Using the Little Milk Dog for desensitization therapy was a great idea.
Cute things soothed the soul. As he watched the Little Dog slurp down the milk with noisy biabiabia laps, that lingering unease and horror in his heart completely faded. His gaze turned into that of a besotted first-time dad, overflowing with “My pup is so cute!“
It wasn’t rose-tinted glasses—the Little Dog was genuinely adorable, with a soft brown-yellow coat as its main color, a damp white patch on its chest like a little necklace, and another white tuft on its head.
Once the pup’s belly was round and full, he grabbed the soft scruff covered by that white “necklace” and lifted it, flipping it onto his lap and prying apart its hind legs.
“Are you a boy pup or a girl pup?”
The question that made his vision go black came with a faint itch on his lower half. Huo Tingfeng let out an unprecedented roar, attempting a carp flip… carp flip… carp… roll…
…He couldn’t roll.
“Too shy to be looked at, huh, baby?” Shen Leyuan asked with a laugh.
What the hell kind of disgusting tone is that?
Just then, that hand reached over. Huo Tingfeng lowered his head and chomp—bit down.
Then his tiny milk teeth got rubbed.
The Milk Dog had been so still earlier, like it was dead. Shen Leyuan had been worried, but the moment he put the milk can to its mouth, it gulped it down like a whale, even biting with gusto. Looking back, it was probably just too starved and weak before.
He’d bought the milk cans from a roadside pet store. He hadn’t really understood the shopkeeper’s spiel about the nutrients, but online reviews seemed decent, so he grabbed a bit of everything. Only when paying did he remember he was living under someone else’s roof—not exactly ideal for keeping a pet.
He rubbed the Little Milk Dog’s head and called the big shot: “Mr. Lin…”
He had no idea how long Lin Yuan had been waiting for this call.
From the moment the young man appeared, every minute and second had been under surveillance cameras, entirely within his control. If he wanted, he could know exactly where the young man was and what he was doing.
Today was the first time he hadn’t monitored him.
To say there was no surveillance wasn’t quite accurate—there was still the tracker on his phone—but Lin Yuan couldn’t confirm the young man’s condition. He didn’t know what experiences awaited him on the road, who he’d interact with, or what conversations they’d have.
Why has he stopped there, refusing to move?
Some accident? Or did he deliberately ditch the phone to escape?
Will he come back?
Lin Yuan grew agitated, like a drowning man bereft of driftwood. An immense suffocation engulfed him, leaving him immobile—a rigid stone sinking into ever-deeper waters.
Until that most special ringtone sounded, pulling him back.
“Mr. Lin.”
The young man’s voice was soft, as gentle as ever: “You know I’ve got this psychological shadow about dogs lately. I want to do some desensitization therapy. I just happened to pick up a little dog on the road… Can I keep it?”
Lin Yuan heard his own cold voice: “No need to ask me.”
“I still should, since I’m living in your house.” The young man seemed to chuckle: “Also, I wanted to ask if I can have the cage and dog food delivered to your address here. If not, I’ll take them back myself.”
Lin Yuan: “Fine.”
Shen Leyuan said: “Then I won’t disturb you. I’ll be back soon.”
So obedient.
That promise was like a spell, unshackling Lin Yuan. His whole body relaxed, the furrow between his brows smoothing out.
He set down the phone, and his palm stung.
Looking down, he’d gripped the brooch too tightly earlier. The stem’s thorns had pierced his skin, blood dripping freely, even staining the casing—a vivid, glaring stain like his sanity slowly leaking away.
He clenched his fist. Lin Yuan leaned back in his wheelchair, exhausted.
“I’m not normal,” he murmured.
But desire could perhaps be curbed with drugs. How was he supposed to rein in these feelings without letting a hint slip?
…
Shen Leyuan’s first thought upon returning to the villa was to show the big shot the dog.
Sure, the big shot preferred raising big dogs, fierce ones, but a silly new dad with his freshly adopted “son” didn’t care. He had to chat about it with elders, friends—with the people he trusted—gushing about how lively and cute the dog was.
Lin Yuan filled all three roles. Shen Leyuan couldn’t think of anyone else.
But the big shot wasn’t there.
Word was some urgent matter had come up, requiring him to head out—and he’d taken Little Deer, Lin Yao, and even A Si with him.
“When will you be back?” Shen Leyuan asked.
The bodyguard, following instructions through his earpiece, replied: “Indefinite return.”
Shen Leyuan sighed and griped to the bodyguard: “This salary’s really weighing on my conscience. First, I get dog-bit and rest a few days. Then a student gets dog-bit, and I rest more. Now it’s ‘indefinite return’…”
The bodyguard kept his eyes on his nose, nose to the ground, saying nothing.
The chat group’s hot topic was this Teacher Shen. Regardless of prior contact, like or indifference, everyone agreed: he’d surely become Madam Lin.
This messenger bodyguard was in the indifferent camp. Even if Shen Leyuan became the family head’s wife, it’d just be boss-subordinate to him—no need for chit-chat. If possible, better to keep distance, lest the jealous boss note it down.
Shen Leyuan was just venting casually, oblivious to the cold shoulder.
He pondered for a moment, then said: “With the boss and his ‘kids’ all out, does that mean you guys don’t need to patrol so diligently? You could take shifts to rest?”
The bodyguard frowned: “No…”
Just one flip of the lips and he’s egging us on to slack? What if the boss asks?
Before he could speak, the young man pulled out his phone: “Hold on, let me check. Oh, right—I still owe you all that BBQ I promised last time.”
…Voice low, ass up, tip-toeing, a few minutes later, he waved his phone with a brilliant smile: “Done!”
Bodyguard: …
He silently opened his phone and messaged the slacking-off group: 【Is that Madam Group still around? Drop the group number.】
The BBQ was a raucous feast, not wrapping up until midnight.
Shen Leyuan carried the Little Milk Dog the whole time, even popping two milk cans midway, watching his “pup” drink with fatherly love.
Familiar bodyguards teased with winks: “Gentle Teacher, mom of three now.”
Shen Leyuan rolled his eyes: “First time being a dad here, just this one pup. Where’d three come from?”
The guy grinned: “Young master and second young master, duh.”
Shen Leyuan laughed and shoved him: “Go eat your skewers. With just two peanuts in you, no wonder you’re this drunk!”
Amid the noisy banter and lively chaos, no one noticed the Little Dog choke on its milk.
Mom’s ghost! Taking liberties with me!
Mouth all wet and sloppy, Huo Tingfeng instinctively wiped it with his paw—smearing a mouthful of dirt. He glared up at the culprit who’d turned him into this, then furiously rubbed his face against the guy’s pant leg, shaking wildly to wipe off the milk.
Shen Leyuan was delighted, scooping up the pup for a smooch: “Baby’s rubbing on Daddy?”
So cute~
Huo Tingfeng: Roll!
But the sound wasn’t even a bark—just a tender, soft “Ying.”
Shen Leyuan laughed harder: “Aww, chatting with Daddy now~”
Huo Tingfeng: “Ying… wu wang!“
He barely managed a “fierce” sound, meaning: Like hell I wanna chat with you!
Shen Leyuan: “Mm, got it. Daddy’s gonna give you kisses~”
The massive face loomed. Huo Tingfeng flailed in terror, paws blocking his face, his milk-voice wailing shrill and pitiful. He’d forgotten his badass “Wang wang,” unleashing a string of “Ying ying ying ying ying ying ying ying!!!“
What a heartwarming scene—the Little Milk Dog enthusiastically cuddling Daddy.
A bodyguard who often hung around the kennel passed by and paused: “Teacher Shen likes dogs?”
Before Shen Leyuan could reply, he continued: “The kennel’s got a new Tibetan Mastiff pup born recently—pure bloodline. If you’re interested, check him out. We’ve got other cute pups too; raise ’em and they’ll guard you.”
Shen Leyuan heard nothing after that.
From “Tibetan Mastiff,” he zoned out, his mind flashing to that dog-man’s storyline.
It was after Lin Yao—or rather, the adoptive brother gong—showed up.
Little Deer got… whatever, euphemisms it is, or it’d be too cringey just thinking.
Simply put: after the Flower Market uke got deflowered by the evil tutor, the ghost-dad gong broke his seal, pimping out partners for the uke while watching from the sidelines, itching to join but held back by that ethical hurdle.
Until the adoptive brother gong flew back from abroad, found his “wife” poached, assumed it was bio-dad hogging, mocked him as “little mom” while devouring, then dragged him off to elope.
En route, brother gong distracted the bodyguards; Flower Market uke hid in the kennel.
Dog cage wasn’t latched tight. The ferocious Tibetan Mastiff pounced the uke for this and that. Inner monologue: He used to be human, named Huo Tingfeng. Betrayed in a deal abroad, woke up as a dog.
Flower Market uke had fed him a bite of rice days prior, so the dog fixated, fell in “love.”
Shen Leyuan figured it was pure lust at first sight.
Otherwise, why no insta-love for the bodyguards’ daily bucket-feedings of meat? That one bite from Little Deer just extra tasty?
And really liking someone? Mounting them as a dog?
He set the newly arrived Tibetan Mastiff on the carpet and stared idly for a bit, then barked sharply: “Huo Tingfeng?”
The Milk Dog at his feet shuddered: “Ying!“
Shen Leyuan ignored it, reaching to soothingly pet it, eyes locked on the Mastiff—meeting those wise little eyes nearly buried in fur.
Shen Leyuan: “Is that you?”
The Tibetan Mastiff didn’t twitch, utterly steady, looking even wiser.
Shen Leyuan thought, then shifted his other hand from the Milk Dog and cracked open a can of meat mush.
The Mastiff’s nose twitched, sniffed—and like a switch flipped, he bounded over wildly. Shen Leyuan dodged; the oversized chonky pup circled his feet, spinning and aowoo-ing like a pig squeal.
Definitely a real dog.
Shen Leyuan didn’t dare imagine if someone were in there now—how shameless they’d have to be to ham it up like this.
Behind him, the Little Milk Dog belly-crawled, shakily reaching under the bed.
Moments later, it crawled out in horror.
Too terrifying, fuck!
There’s surveillance under the bed!!!
Before he could scout another hidey-hole, fate’s scruff was pinched. Shen Leyuan plopped the pup on the bed, cradling and petting it while scrolling his phone.
Huo Tingfeng didn’t dare move. Not one bit.
Looking back, the weirdness started when this guy showed up. He wasn’t the good-Samaritan type, but he’d thought this one seemed decent—worth a small favor.
Then came the one-love-at-first-sight pretty boy… Pah!
The Little Lunatic!
After the Little Lunatic appeared, his “incurable illness” vanished without meds. He lost his mind wanting the Lunatic as his wife, getting handsy at a glance—no touch or kiss needed to get him riled.
Before that, he’d been a celibate bachelor.
Now the real freakshow: this Teacher Shen, who’d first crossed his path and now treated the Little Lunatic like an innocent kid, was yelling “Huo Tingfeng” at a Tibetan Mastiff.
He knows me?
Did he mess up the surname on purpose today? Actually gunning for me?
If he finds out which dog I’m in…
Huo Tingfeng sneaked a peek at the young man, who was glued to his phone. Emboldened, he craned his head for a screen-glimpse—checking for contacts plotting against him.
The top phrase jumping out: Tibetan Mastiff, neuter.
Shen Leyuan refreshed the search; past queries popped up below:
Tibetan Mastiff puberty age?
Tibetan Mastiff neuter age?
Earliest neuter age for Tibetan Mastiff.
Chemical neuter for Tibetan Mastiff—possible at two months?
Huo Tingfeng: !!!!!!
Absolutely cannot let him find out, or I’m worse than dead!
He yanked his head back, burrowing into the big towel specially wrapped around him, trembling.
Shen Leyuan ruffled the pup a few times, drawn by an off texture—guessing it was cold—and cranked the AC higher, lest his fragile baby catch something.
He poked its ear softly: “Cold, baby?”
Huo Tingfeng didn’t dare make a peep or dodge.
Shen Leyuan patted its plump little belly, bundled it up, and set it bedside—away from direct AC—and turned off the lights to sleep.
Neutering later.
That was the Flower Market gong, after all—probably not possessing a sire dog. Once he confirmed the dog turned man-dog, neutering one-stop would end it for good.
From now on, he’d keep the dog by his side to observe it—easier to spot any changes that way. No more calling it by name, either; otherwise, neutering it right after would definitely piss off its owner. Huo Tingfeng’s background wasn’t clean at all. The guy had blood on his hands—a real tough customer who’d taken lives.
The tough guy with blood on his hands huddled by the bed, trembling, utterly unable to sleep.
He’s bold, sure, he thought, but even the boldest would cower at something like this. Especially when what the bastard’s after isn’t just my life… but my… my…
I’ve only just started feeling it! My virgin body’s still intact!!!
Rubbing bitter tears onto the towel, the Little Milk Dog inwardly swore: Bide my time for now. Eat more, drink more, pack on the pounds. Native dogs bulk up big by one year old. Then I’ll bite that Shen bastard first and escape this hellhole!
Now the enemy’s out in the open while I’m in the shadows. How could I not outmaneuver him?
Maybe it was heartburn from all that barbecue, but Shen Leyuan couldn’t sleep well on the bed. He tossed and turned for a bit before pulling out his phone and opening Baidu’s image search.
Still don’t know what breed the pup is.
The screen jumped to results in seconds—a full page crammed with adorable little dogs. Shen Leyuan’s eyes lit up.
Cute! It’s a big-butted Corgi!
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