Taming the Fierce Hound | Chapter 30 | The Weight of Weariness | Novela.app

Chapter 30 - The Weight of Weariness A thin, crimson line bled across the horizon, slowly chasing away the remnants of slumbering dreams. The streets began to stir with sparse, ghostly figures: elderly joggers moving with rhythmic precision, vendors with faces etched by exhaustion setting up their stalls, and the "walking corpses" stumbling out of 24-hour internet cafes. Near a flickering streetlight, a man suffering from a mid-life crisis clung to a utility pole, his incoherent wails muffled by the sour, acrid stench of his own vomit. Zong Yan walked in the opposite direction, her hands shoved deep into her pockets. Her silhouette was thin and straight, like a blade that could be chipped but never bent, fated to carve its own path forward in solitude. She walked slowly, every step feeling as though it were pressing down upon her own raw nerves. The phantom sensation of the leash she had held all night was still there, the memory of its texture etched into her palm like a serrated blade, as if a voice were whispering from the marks: *Why did you abandon me?* "I’m heading out now. You go on back." "Got it. Remember, I’ll be waiting for you at home." At a street corner, a pair was saying their goodbyes. The one staying behind waved lingeringly, repeating the same refrain: "Make sure you come back soon." Those words struck Zong Yan’s mind like a heavy mallet, sending a sudden wave of vertigo through her. No one was waiting for her to return anymore. She truly had nothing left. The early spring air was biting and raw, and Zong Yan was dressed far too thinly for the season. Yet, she didn't feel the cold. There were places deep within her body that were far more frigid than the morning mist. When she reached the back gate of her residential complex, a middle-aged man yawning loudly spotted her and called out. "Xiao Zong? Where have you been so early in the morning?" Zong Yan kept her head down, offering no reply. The man was wearing a security guard’s uniform. It had been a long time since he had bothered to wear it properly, but today it was crisply ironed, lending him an air of newfound dignity. "About what we talked about yesterday—have you thought it over? I know it might be hard to accept at first, but look at the big picture. This is definitely good news." He stepped closer, his eyes reflecting a patronizing sort of pity. "I know these years haven't been easy for you. You and your father were the only ones still living in there. I never reported it because, well, where else would a kid like you go? But things are different now. A big company has taken over the project. Once the funding is in place, this whole development will come back to life!" He patted Zong Yan on the shoulder, his voice rising with excitement. "You should start moving your valuables out soon. The construction crews will be moving in any day now, and you don't want your things tossed out as debris. Child, the 'good days' are finally coming. This is what the owners of these unfinished buildings have been praying for for years. If you can't move the heavy stuff, find me. I know a moving company." To him, the rebirth of the building meant a steady paycheck and a future. To Zong Yan, it was the final nail in the coffin. "...Alright," she whispered. He was too immersed in his own hope to notice her profound desolation. Zong Yan’s worn-out sneakers crunched against the gravel path—a path she had walked when she was part of a pair, then alone, then as a pair again, and now, finally, as a solitary figure traversing the weed-choked ruins. *The good days are coming?* Zong Yan looked up at the skeletal frame of the concrete giant. A sardonic, hollow laugh bubbled in her throat. What impeccable timing for these "good days." They hadn't come when her mother was alive and suffering. They hadn't come when her stepfather was drowning in poverty. They hadn't come while she was suffocating under the weight of inherited debts. They chose to arrive now—arrogant and high-handed—just as she had finally turned that dilapidated little room into a home, a sanctuary for her "pet." They demanded she vacate within a week. This news effectively severed her last retreat. Her final refuge was to be smashed to pieces and repainted into a sterile, cookie-cutter apartment. Would that still be her home? All those memories—bitter, sour, but hers—were about to vanish in the dust of a construction site. Zong Yan opened the door and surveyed the living room. For a fleeting second, familiar shadows seemed to flicker in the dim light. Someone was preening in front of the mirror. Someone was sprawled out, sleeping off a drink. Someone was running toward her, saying, "You're back." She blinked, and the visions dissipated like smoke. *Valuables?* Zong Yan wondered. *Was there ever such a thing here?* She picked up her backpack from the sofa, slid her laptop inside, and went into the master bedroom to retrieve one specific item, tucking it into a hidden compartment. Standing in the center of the room, she saw the rug still neatly laid out. The indentation on the sofa where Si Jiang had slept remained, as if at any moment he might groggily roll over and complain, "Why are you up so early?" Suddenly, Zong Yan was tired. She had never felt a weariness this heavy. It was as if ten years of suppressed exhaustion had finally broken through the dam, surging forward like a flood to sweep her off her feet. She picked up one last item, took a final look at the small space she called home, and slowly pulled the door shut. As she descended the stairs, her legs gave way, and she tumbled into the darkness. *** "Zong Yan? Are you listening? What do you think of the proposal?" When she regained consciousness, she was standing in the school’s administrative office. "What?" Zong Yan asked, her voice sounding far away. "Honestly, child, why aren't you paying attention?" Mr. Song said, his irritation evident. He repeated himself with a sigh. "Look, Li Jie and the other students have proposed a settlement. They’ve expressed their sincere apologies. They admit there was a misunderstanding and that their language was... perhaps a bit heated. In exchange, the school will retract your disciplinary record, and you won't have to pay their medical bills. Just sign this agreement, and we can put this whole mess behind us." *Settlement? Misunderstanding?* Zong Yan looked at the four boys standing nearby. They were watching her with thinly veiled contempt. She pointed a trembling finger at them and looked at Mr. Song. "To whom did they express their 'sincere apologies'?" From the beginning to the end, she hadn't heard the words "I'm sorry" once. Mr. Song stammered slightly. "They... they confessed their regrets to me. They know they shouldn't have treated you that way." "Then shouldn't they say it to my face?" Zong Yan tilted her head, her gaze cold. "Am I not the one involved?" "You little—! Zong Yan, don't push your luck!" Li Jie snapped, his anger boiling over. "A girl like you... you think you're worthy of an apology?" Zong Yan ignored him, keeping her eyes on the teacher. "You see? Does he look like he's sorry?" Mr. Song coughed twice, shooting a warning glare at Li Jie. "Control yourself." He turned back to Zong Yan. "Zong Yan, look. You aren't entirely blameless here either. Regardless of any misunderstanding, you can't go around hurting people. These boys ended up in the hospital; some were there for quite a while. A settlement is best for everyone. I know you're an orphan, and perhaps that makes you a bit... extreme in your actions, a bit lacking in social grace. That’s not entirely your fault. But you must learn to be more forgiving." Li Jie let out a cold, mocking snort. "An orphan? No wonder she has no upbringing. Did your dead mother teach you how to be a whore?" "Li Jie, shut your mouth!" Mr. Song barked. *I really am tired,* Zong Yan thought. *Why am I still standing here?* She had spent her whole life surrounded by these hypocritical, ugly faces. She usually ignored them, telling herself that if she just endured, it would pass. But why? When did she decide that endurance was her only option? It seemed to have started when there was no one left to back her up. But why should she be the one to suffer just because she was alone? Did having no one behind her mean she was born to be trampled? Zong Yan shook her head. "I won't sign." "What?!" Both Mr. Song and Li Jie stared at her in disbelief, as if she had just rejected a divine blessing. "You..." "If you want me to sign a settlement, it's not impossible," Zong Yan said, stepping right up to Li Jie until they were eye-to-eye. "?" "Kneel down. Give me three kowtows and say you're sorry." Her voice was low and dangerous. "Say: 'I am a foul-mouthed, blind, bullying piece of trash. I was born of parents but never raised by them. Without my family's money, I am a worthless scrap of garbage who doesn't even have the capital to be a gigolo.' Do that, and maybe I'll sign." Zong Yan’s lips curled into a smile that was more a baring of teeth than an expression of joy. "You bitch!" Li Jie exploded. Forgetting the teacher’s presence, he lunged forward, swinging a fist at Zong Yan’s face. Zong Yan simply shifted her weight, letting the blow whistle past her ear. Her expression remained eerily calm. "What, you want to hit me again?" she whispered. "Let me give you some advice: when you're trying to hit someone, never leave your back exposed." In one fluid motion, she seized Li Jie’s arm and shoulder, twisting them behind him. She drove her knee into the back of his leg, and with a sharp cry of pain, Li Jie was forced to his knees. "What's this? Has Young Master Li changed his mind? Are you ready to kowtow?" "You motherf—!" Zong Yan’s other hand tangled into his hair, and she slammed his head into the floor with brutal force. The sound of his face hitting the tiles was sickeningly loud. The other boys stood frozen, unable to process the sudden violence. Zong Yan crouched down, yanking his head up by the hair once more. His face was a mask of blood; his nose was clearly broken, and several front teeth were loose and jagged. "How about now? Have you changed your mind?" "I'll fucking kill—" *Thud.* She slammed his head down a second time. "That’s two, Young Master Li." "Let go of me!" Li Jie shrieked, the pain blinding him. "And the last one." *Bang!* The impact of bone against floor finally snapped the onlookers out of their trance. Mr. Song and the three other boys rushed forward to pull her away. "Zong Yan! Have you lost your mind?!" Zong Yan let go, showing no desire to continue. Li Jie curled into a ball on the floor, moaning in agony, unable to utter another word. She turned her gaze toward the other three. "And you? What do you think?" They were terrified. They couldn't fathom how a girl who looked so unremarkable could overpower a grown man with such calculated, cold-blooded violence, seemingly indifferent to any retaliation from Li Jie’s powerful family. If she didn't fear him, she certainly wouldn't fear them. "We... we're sorry," the three of them stammered, the words squeezed out like bitter medicine. They were humiliated, but the fear of receiving the same treatment outweighed their pride. Zong Yan picked up the settlement paper, scrawled two messy characters across it, and walked out without looking back. "Zong Yan, stop! This is assault!" Mr. Song screamed after her, but she ignored him, leaving the chaos behind. *** When Zong Yan was a child and the world felt too small, she would run to the riverbank. She would sit by the water, watching the endless flow, and feel her troubles wash away. Eventually, her mother would come to find her and lead her home. As she walked along the familiar bank now, she felt a strange sense of lightness. It was as if all her emotions were being drained away, leaving her hollow and buoyant. Her steps became airy. She took out her phone, left a message for Wang Yao, and then switched it to silent. There was a small, hidden path that led down to the water’s edge. As she prepared to descend, a soft whimpering sound came from behind her. She tried to ignore it, but the sound turned into a sharp bark. She turned around. A scrawny, yellow stray dog was watching her warily, its head tilted in confusion. Zong Yan stared at it for a long time before recognition dawned. "It's you. You didn't die." After the earthquake, she had searched for the stray cat and dog for a long time. When she couldn't find them, she had assumed the worst. But the resilience of animals was beyond her imagination. Hearing her voice, the yellow dog’s tail began to thwack against the ground in excitement. "Woof! Woof woof!" "You really are strong," Zong Yan murmured, bending down to pat its head. "But I have nothing left now. I can't feed you. Go find someone else." She gave the dog a faint, apologetic smile. "I promised I’d take you in if I could. I’m sorry. I have to break that promise." The dog didn't understand. It sat on its haunches, whining softly as the human it recognized turned away and walked toward the water. What was the human doing? The dog followed. It watched as the girl placed her backpack on the dry grass, took off her worn sneakers, and set them neatly beside the bag. Then, step by step, she walked into the cold embrace of the river.