Chapter Seventy-Four: Ghostly Cries at Midnight

Zhang Congwen clutched the slip of paper in his hand as he returned to his rented room. Today, he had gained quite a bit of insight from Master Wang, the cat trainer, and wanted to digest it further while the impressions were still fresh.

Song Jiawei still hadn’t gone to work, nor did he rush out early as he used to. Instead, he was in a cheerful mood, carefully grooming himself. Casually, Zhang Congwen asked, “Why are you dressing up so nicely? Got a date today?”

Song Jiawei shook his head and replied, “No dates today.”

Zhang Congwen’s mind was entirely occupied with thoughts of dog training, so he didn’t catch the implication in Song Jiawei’s words. He asked offhandedly, “Tomorrow I’m going to train someone’s dog. Do you want to come along?”

“No, no,” Song Jiawei said impatiently.

He shot Zhang Congwen a strange look. He’d just said there was no date today, which obviously meant there was one tomorrow. How could this guy be so oblivious now?

But soon, Song Jiawei tossed his annoyance aside and continued happily with his grooming. Tomorrow was an important day for him. After much effort, Xie Julie had finally agreed to spend a day out with him. He was determined to seize the opportunity and make a good impression.

Meanwhile, Zhang Congwen returned to his room, rummaging around for quite a while before finally finding the pen and paper he hadn’t used in ages. He started jotting things down.

Dog training itself wasn’t a simple matter; it required standards and guidelines. For this, Zhang Congwen, unusually, searched online for videos by professional dog trainers, watching and taking notes as he went. The level of diligence he showed now was likely greater than anything he’d demonstrated back in school.

Aside from the training protocols, Zhang Congwen also drew inspiration from Master Wang, the cat trainer, and glimpsed a business opportunity. Not every household needing dog training had all the necessary equipment. For example, with more aggressive dogs like Big Tiger, a muzzle might be required, but not all dog owners had such devices. Zhang Congwen could exploit this gap to sell some of his own equipment.

Besides muzzles, items like collar-style leashes, anti-bite gloves, and dog toys could also be sold. Although the profit margin from sales during training wasn’t large, because he helped the owners train their dogs, they might develop a dependency and return to him when they needed more equipment in the future.

When Song Jiawei felt he had groomed himself to peak handsomeness, he noticed Zhang Congwen was still scribbling away. He didn’t bother him, his mind filled with thoughts of how to take Xie Julie’s hand during tomorrow’s date.

Just imagining the possibility of holding Xie Julie’s soft, warm hand made Song Jiawei grin foolishly. He decided to go to bed early tonight, hoping to meet Xie Julie tomorrow in perfect spirits.

“Damn!”

As Song Jiawei lay half-awake in bed, hoping to dream of holding Xie Julie’s gentle hand the next day, he was jolted awake by a sudden, anguished scream from Zhang Congwen, as if he’d been assaulted.

Rushing into Zhang Congwen’s room wearing only his underwear, Song Jiawei found him sitting there perfectly fine, not at all in the predicament he’d imagined.

“What’s wrong with you? I’m telling you, my orientation is perfectly normal, so don’t come any closer,” Zhang Congwen said, perversely accusing Song Jiawei as soon as he barged in wearing only his underwear.

Song Jiawei was furious. “If it weren’t for your ghostly wailing in the middle of the night, who’d bother coming to your dump of a room?”

He’d come rushing in out of concern for Zhang Congwen, only to have his sexuality questioned. Song Jiawei felt like beating him up.

“Did I scream?” Zhang Congwen muttered gloomily. He hadn’t realized how loud his outburst had been.

“No, you didn’t scream. The dog did,” Song Jiawei retorted angrily. “Could you not bark like a dog in the middle of the night? It’s disturbing the neighbors. Crazy!”

With that, Song Jiawei slammed Zhang Congwen’s door and returned to his own room.

But Zhang Congwen was too absorbed to care what sort of madness Song Jiawei was spouting. Staring at the notes he had written, he was filled with frustration, wishing he could beat himself up.

His handwriting was atrocious—almost unreadable. His elementary school teacher had once remarked that his writing looked like spider tracks.

Zhang Congwen knew his handwriting was bad, but hadn’t realized just how terrible it had become. Having not written in ages only made matters worse. As he wrote further, his hand grew tired, and his script became increasingly careless and unrestrained, adding another layer of chaos to the already disastrous mess.

It was simply unbearable to look at.

He could still recognize the first part of his own writing, but by the middle section, it was only barely legible. By the end, where he’d completely let loose, even he could barely decipher what he’d written.

At times, he had to guess to read a passage coherently.

When I don’t take notes, I’m afraid I’ll forget what’s in my head. When I do take notes, I’m still afraid I’ll forget what’s in my head. Doesn’t that mean I took notes for nothing?

Frustrated, Zhang Congwen balled up his notes and threw them onto the floor, finally calming himself.

He suddenly realized something was off with himself today. The dog trainer business, for him, was at most a side job—it could end any day if he couldn’t find new clients, and he’d return to his normal life.

So why was he bothering with these notes now?

Lying in bed, Zhang Congwen could only comfort himself with such thoughts, fearing that his frustration might keep him awake.

The address Aunt Liu had given him wasn’t in his city, but in a nearby rural area.

He had already made arrangements with the dog owner to visit and assess the situation tomorrow.

All he knew was that this owner had four dogs, and the issue to be solved was their destructive behavior.

If it was only the matter of them wrecking things, it wouldn’t be too difficult, so Zhang Congwen didn’t worry much about it.

But since it was a bit far, he got up early the next day. Seeing that Song Jiawei was still sleeping like a dead dog, he knocked loudly on his door.

“You little mutt, banging on my door at the crack of dawn—have you no decency? Your father has a date to go to today, you’re ruining everything. When you get back, I’m going to kill you. No, I’ll neuter you first, then kill you!”

“Hehehe!”

Zhang Congwen ignored Song Jiawei’s threats, treating them as nothing more than barking.

“Just wanted to remind you to get up and pee,” Zhang Congwen said lewdly, then, amid Song Jiawei’s curses, quickly slipped out of the rented apartment.