Taming the Fierce Hound | Chapter 23 | A Lingering Fever | Novela.app

*Clink, clink.* The transparent jar swayed in the sunlight. On it was a handwritten label: *Property of Si Jiang.* He carefully placed his treasure on the sofa before picking up a rag to start cleaning. In truth, there wasn't much to clean in the apartment. There was little furniture, and their range of activity was limited. Many areas remained closed off; even if they gathered dust, Zong Yan rarely opened them. She and Si Jiang lived almost exclusively in the living room area. Si Jiang was not the type to clean. He had hardly lifted a finger in his entire life, but as he watched the weather grow colder, he realized in the blink of an eye that the Lunar New Year was approaching. In a typical family, a thorough spring cleaning was mandatory before the New Year. In the Si family villa, however, it was always the servants who busied themselves with such tasks. When the elders were still alive, Si Jiang would follow his parents to the ancestral home for the holidays. It was a house full of people, each harboring their own ulterior motives and schemes. Once New Year’s Eve passed, he would be whisked away to pay New Year visits and attend various social functions. The three of them—father, mother, and son—rarely sat down for a proper New Year’s Eve dinner. Once the festivities ended, his parents would go their separate ways to attend to their own affairs, leaving Si Jiang alone in the house. Finding the massive villa too desolate, he would seek out Chen Bai and his other fair-weather friends for some excitement. Amidst the clinking of wine glasses, he could forget many of his troubles. But when the night grew deep and everyone returned to their respective homes, he would sit in the empty living room, turn the television volume up high, and chat with the various sycophants sending him New Year greetings on his phone. Now, he was no longer Young Master Si. This New Year was special, and he wanted to truly experience it. When he reached the master bedroom, Si Jiang hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open. His master had allowed him inside to fetch clothes before, so she probably wouldn't object to him entering now. He carried the mop, dragging it back and forth with half-hearted strokes. The room was much cleaner than he had imagined, as if someone looked after it regularly. It was simply furnished: a bed, a wardrobe, a vanity, and a nightstand. The vanity was empty, and the mirror was covered with a cloth. As Si Jiang observed this mysterious master bedroom, he wondered who had lived here before. It probably wasn't Zong Yan; she didn't seem like the type to use a vanity. It was likely her parents. However, he remembered that when they first met, Zong Yan only had a father left. That father had only come to the school once. It was the first time Zong Yan had been bullied by her classmates; both sides had come to blows, and the school called the parents. Si Jiang had watched the drama from the sidelines and saw a drunken man walk into the office. Not long after, he led Zong Yan away. Later, he heard from others that Zong Yan’s father didn't care at all about what happened to her at school. He had forced her to apologize on the spot and told the teacher not to bother him with such things in the future. From then on, everyone knew that Zong Yan had no one standing behind her. She was a target that could be bullied at will. At the thought of this, Si Jiang gripped the wooden handle of the mop tightly and shook his head in panic. *Don't think about it anymore, Si Jiang. Stop thinking about those things.* He had done so many filthy, cruel things to his master; they were beyond forgiveness. If she remembered, if she decided to settle the score, what would he do? Nothing he did could ever make up for it. The mere thought of such a scenario—the thought that he might be discarded in the darkness again like that night—made it impossible for him to breathe. *Cleaning. Right, I’m cleaning.* Si Jiang set the mop aside and began wiping the nightstand. He noticed that one of the drawers wasn't fully closed. As if possessed, he pulled it open. Inside were just some odds and ends, along with two photographs. Si Jiang wiped his hands and picked them up. One was very old and wrinkled, as if it had been soaked in water. It showed a young woman with two braided pigtails, holding an infant and smiling quietly at the camera. The other was a wedding photo. It was the same woman, though she looked much older, pictured with a younger man. Si Jiang recognized him—it was the man who had walked into the school office. So, that wasn't Zong Yan’s biological father, but her stepfather. He stood there dazed, his mind a whirlwind of unknown thoughts, before finally placing the photos back exactly as he had found them. "Si Jiang?" Zong Yan’s voice drifted in from outside. Master was back! He hurried out with the mop to greet her. "Master, you're home." With the mop in his left hand and a rag in his right, he stood obediently before her. "Mm." Zong Yan glanced at the direction he had come from, then at his shifting eyes, but said nothing. "You're cleaning." "Yes." Si Jiang nodded, answering like a child seeking praise. "The New Year is coming soon. I wanted to tidy up the house." *The house.* Zong Yan’s cold expression softened slightly. She took the mop from him. "Let's do it together." "Okay!" With another person participating, the entire apartment felt significantly more lived-in. Usually, Si Jiang was alone most of the time with nothing to do. Aside from taking care of personal needs, he could only clutch his phone and check if Zong Yan had replied to his messages. Other than that, he either slept or stared into space. When the room fell completely silent, the desolation was terrifying. He would often retreat to the sofa clutching his jar, clip the leash to his collar, and start counting the hours. *Just a few more hours and Master will be back. I won't be forgotten here. This is our home.* Only by telling himself this over and over could he block out the lingering auditory hallucinations until they gradually faded. Every time the sound of Zong Yan’s footsteps echoed, it was his happiest moment. Because that sound meant all his anxieties would be dispelled; his soul would be firmly tethered, no longer to be carried away by demons. "Master, how did your family celebrate the New Year when you were little?" Si Jiang asked curiously. He didn't know what needed to be prepared for the holiday; perhaps Zong Yan knew. *The New Year?* The sounds of the Spring Festival Gala mixed with curses and beatings—that was all it had been. Later, when she lived with her mother and stepfather, they did have a reunion dinner once; it was a rare, peaceful New Year’s Eve. After her mother died, the New Year became nothing more than a fresh excuse for her stepfather to get drunk and go on a rampage. "I suppose we should prepare some good food, watch the Gala, see the fireworks, that sort of thing." Even if she hadn't experienced it much, she had seen how others lived. Textbooks often mentioned what ordinary families did for the holiday. "Then shall we prepare like that this year?" Si Jiang looked at her expectantly. Just as Zong Yan was about to speak, her phone rang. She glanced at Si Jiang, who was waiting for her answer, but took the call first. "Senior Zong Yan!" A clear, youthful male voice came from the speaker. "It's me. What is it?" Her tone was gentle, not like her usual self at all. Si Jiang had never seen Zong Yan like this. His smile froze instantly. Who was the guy on the other end? "I'm not disturbing you, am I?" "No." *The hell you aren't! You're disturbing my conversation with her about the New Year!* "Senior, could you check your WeChat when you have a moment? The final exams are tomorrow, but there are a few problems I still don't understand. I'm so worried I'll fail." "Your grades are so good; I'm sure you'll be fine." Bai Mao’s voice sounded pitiful yet full of admiration. Anyone who heard it would find it hard to turn him down. Moreover, Zong Yan didn't dislike him and had already agreed to tutor him. "Alright, I'll take a look. Let's talk on WeChat." "Thank you, Senior! You're the best. I'll be waiting!" After she hung up, Si Jiang’s gaze was practically burning a hole through Zong Yan’s phone. Zong Yan didn't notice and simply resumed what she was doing. Si Jiang, however, had stopped. He endured it, and endured it again, but finally, he couldn't help himself. "Master, who was that guy?" His words were laced with a bitterness he didn't even recognize. "A junior from school." "A junior?" Si Jiang ground his teeth. How did some random junior pop up and act so spoiled with Zong Yan? It gave him goosebumps. "Is Master very close to him?" He squeezed the rag tightly. "He's alright. He's a good person." Zong Yan had met very few "good people" in her life. For her, this was already an exceptionally high evaluation. *A good person? A good person?* What a cliché term. Si Jiang had already forgotten about the New Year plans; his mind was filled with that phrase. No matter how arrogant he had been in the past, he possessed a profound self-awareness: he was definitely not a good person. If it weren't for his family's wealth, he probably would have been expelled from school multiple times and sent to the police station for tea. He was arrogant, lawless, and prone to causing trouble whenever he was in a bad mood. After causing trouble, he would use money to settle it; if money couldn't settle the matter, he would "settle" the person involved. Not to mention the five years of targeted bullying he had inflicted upon Zong Yan. He was utterly mocking to her face and used others as his pawns behind her back. He couldn't stand a lower-class person showing even a hint of pride in front of him. *Why should a poor person look down on me? Why don't they come to flatter and fawn over me?* It was as if he had to crush their pride and see that familiar, pathetic look on their faces before he could feel satisfied. But times had changed, and the one whose bones had been crushed was him. He was the one kneeling before the person he once despised, begging for mercy. He was the one who would collapse without Zong Yan. In the end, wasn't he the most pathetic one of all? How he had the luck to be accepted by Zong Yan as her pet and treated well despite being such trash, he didn't know. But now, Zong Yan had finally met a "good person"? Someone many times better than him? Would Zong Yan... want to change pets? Si Jiang felt as if the ground beneath his feet was suddenly collapsing. His sanctuary felt precarious, on the verge of crumbling. What should he do? Zong Yan didn't notice Si Jiang’s inner turmoil. The only abnormality was that he started having nightmares again that night. It wasn't until she pulled out the leash and held it in her hand that the "pet" managed a faint smile. But he likely didn't sleep well, as he spent the next day catching up on rest. Before long, Si Jiang’s now-fragile body began to protest, and he broke out in a high fever. Zong Yan fed him medicine and applied cold towels, but nothing seemed to work. Left with no choice, she carried him on her back to a small clinic near the residential complex to get him an IV drip. Si Jiang was groggy and lacked the energy to care about his surroundings. He simply pulled his hoodie over his head, wore a mask, and huddled on the cold, hard chair. "Master," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm here." Zong Yan placed her hand on the back of his and patted it gently. *Don't abandon me.* ***