Chapter Sixty-Five: Taming a Dragon

“It’s as stubborn as a mule. When I came down, it still hadn’t eaten. It kept guarding its food bowl like some precious treasure,” Sun Zimu said with a hint of helplessness.

“Let’s go up and have a look,” Zhang Congwen replied with a smile. He paid no further attention to Song Jiawei’s affairs, heading upstairs with Sun Zimu.

Zhang Congwen had already anticipated Mud Snow’s stubborn temper. But if the dog continued to be obstinate, the last step in its training might never come, and when the time came to collect payment from Sun Zimu and her family, things would get awkward.

He was pondering what else he could try if that stubborn “mule” still refused to eat, when, upon reaching Sun Zimu’s apartment, he unexpectedly bumped into Sun Zhong at the door.

Sun Zhong greeted Zhang Congwen with delight, saying, “Mud Snow finally finished all the dog food in its bowl.”

“Has it been let out?” Zhang Congwen asked.

“Not yet. I wanted you to see its current state first. I was just about to call you up to check on it,” Sun Zhong replied.

Zhang Congwen walked to the room where Mud Snow had been confined, opened the door, and saw the food bowl completely emptied.

Mud Snow, too, had lost the intense drive to guard its bowl; now it gazed longingly at the doorway, clearly desperate to leave the stuffy room.

Zhang Congwen chuckled, a hint of schadenfreude in his expression. He knew Mud Snow’s mind was now wholly focused on escaping the room, and the food bowl had been utterly forgotten.

“You never thought you’d see a day like this, did you?” Zhang Congwen said to Mud Snow, enjoying the irony.

Instead of immediately letting the dog out, Zhang Congwen stepped over the barrier and entered the room. With Mud Snow watching, he kicked the now-empty food bowl over.

Sun Zhong and Sun Zimu felt a jolt of anxiety.

Given Mud Snow’s temper, it usually wouldn’t let anyone near its bowl—even after eating, they couldn’t take the bowl away without resistance. Every time they tried, it turned into a battle of wits, and sometimes Mud Snow would bite.

To Sun Zimu and her father, Zhang Congwen’s action—kicking the bowl—looked like a death wish.

They braced themselves to rush in and rescue him, but to their surprise, Mud Snow didn’t react at all to Zhang Congwen’s move, quickly shifting its gaze back toward the living room, full of yearning.

Even Sun Zimu could see that Mud Snow’s eyes held nothing but longing, no other emotion whatsoever. Zhang Congwen’s act of kicking the bowl was simply ignored.

And it wasn’t because Mud Snow feared Zhang Congwen.

“This… this…” Sun Zhong and Sun Zimu were too stunned to speak.

They’d thought Zhang Congwen’s earlier training methods were impressive, almost magical, but this single act was far more astonishing.

They knew Mud Snow’s obsession with its bowl bordered on pathological, an impression etched deeply into their minds.

They didn’t believe the problem was unchangeable, but Zhang Congwen had simply shut Mud Snow in a room, and done nothing else, yet the issue was improved.

The logic, the reasoning behind it, was utterly perplexing to them.

“What’s going on?” Meng Rou asked casually, noticing the strange expressions on father and daughter.

“Dog Trainer Zhang kicked over Mud Snow’s food bowl,” Sun Zhong replied.

“Kicked it over… wait, Mud Snow’s bowl! Did Trainer Zhang get bitten? Why are you just…” Meng Rou at first didn’t see the issue, but when she realized, she rushed over.

And froze.

Zhang Congwen stood perfectly fine, unharmed.

Mud Snow was also perfectly fine, unharmed.

“What happened?” Meng Rou asked, incredulous.

Zhang Congwen casually bent down, picked up the bowl, and handed it to Sun Zhong. “Is it really that dramatic?”

Sun Zhong blinked, realizing his family’s reaction might indeed be exaggerated. He composed himself, but looked at Zhang Congwen with newfound respect.

Especially Sun Zimu, whose eyes gleamed with admiration.

Though Zhang Congwen wasn’t quite the legendary trainer their school spoke of—someone who could train a dog with a single sentence—his results weren’t far off.

“Trainer Zhang, what’s the reasoning here?” Sun Zhong asked.

Zhang Congwen posed a question: “If your favorite food was placed before you, wouldn’t you want to eat it?”

Sun Zhong nodded.

Zhang Congwen continued, “If five million in cash was set beside the food, and you were told you might get it, would your attention still be on the food?”

Sun Zhong replied, “Of course not. Even five thousand, I wouldn’t spare the food a glance.”

Zhang Congwen smiled and explained, “That’s exactly Mud Snow’s situation. Its desire to leave this room is now greater than its urge to guard the food bowl. It knows the power to let it out doesn’t lie with itself, but with us. So, when I kicked the bowl, it didn’t care, and even if it did, it wouldn’t dare protest.”

Everyone suddenly understood.

Before grasping the principle, it had seemed an unsolvable puzzle; once understood, it was surprisingly simple.

But Sun Zimu’s family didn’t dismiss Zhang Congwen’s method as trivial or worthless, unlike Sister Wang. They knew the logic was simple, yet discovering it was not.

Zhang Congwen then opened the barrier and let Mud Snow out. The dog excitedly ran circles around the room, no longer bothering the other dogs.

Meanwhile, Song Jiawei returned upstairs, flashed an OK sign to Zhang Congwen, indicating the training fee had been collected.

After observing Mud Snow for a while and seeing no issues, Zhang Congwen addressed Sun Zimu’s family, “That’s it for today’s training. It’s getting late, and we should head out. If you plan to keep Mud Snow, this kind of training must continue consistently, without lapses.”

He emphasized again: even with such training, once the second baby is born, don’t slacken, and never let Mud Snow interact with the infant. Don’t wait until things are irreparable—you’ll regret it deeply then.

Sun Zhong readily agreed.

Unlike Sister Wang, he transferred seven thousand for the training fee without complaint.

Zhang Congwen didn’t ask the family whether they’d continue keeping Mud Snow; he’d already taught them the methods, and what happened next was their own responsibility.

Mud Snow’s ultimate fate would depend on what Sun Zimu’s family decided.

In the rideshare, Zhang Congwen asked Song Jiawei, “How much did you collect?”

Song Jiawei replied slyly, “Eight thousand.”

Zhang Congwen looked astonished. “You’re ruthless.”

Song Jiawei shrugged, “With that one, I don’t think I was ruthless enough.”

Zhang Congwen was impressed. “Getting eight thousand from Sister Wang for dog training is something else. How’d you manage it?”

Song Jiawei grinned smugly, “A mountain man has his own tricks.”

Then he asked, “Any plans for tonight?”

Zhang Congwen shook his head.

Song Jiawei said slyly, “I got you all this training money—shouldn’t we celebrate tonight?”

Zhang Congwen replied, “Sure. How?”

Song Jiawei answered, “Train a dragon!”

Zhang Congwen was baffled. “Train a dragon? What dragon? Go see ‘How to Train Your Dragon’ in theaters?”

Song Jiawei rolled his eyes. “Two grown men going to a movie theater? You really thought of that?”

Zhang Congwen asked, “Then what dragon are we training?”

Song Jiawei replied, “Train—a one-stop dragon.”