Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Sled Team Begins Their Work

Such an embarrassing incident was something Song Jiawei would never tell Zhang Congwen, not even at gunpoint. If Zhang Congwen ever found out about this, he’d surely tease him for at least the next three years. Fortunately, when Song Jiawei held Xie Julie’s delicate hand, she hadn’t tried to pull away; otherwise, he would have been depressed to death today.

“It’s just holding a girl’s hand. Look how pleased you are with yourself,” Zhang Congwen remarked with a hint of disdain.

“You don’t know a thing! Now that I’ve held her hand, how far off can making it official be?” Song Jiawei replied arrogantly.

But before long, Song Jiawei sidled up to Zhang Congwen with a sly look. “By the way, the day after tomorrow is Xie Julie’s birthday. What do you think I should get her?”

Zhang Congwen slapped his thigh. “You’ve come to the right person. Of course you have to give a girl a gift on her birthday. What you give isn’t as important as the thought behind it.”

Song Jiawei’s eyes lit up as if he’d found a savior. He nodded eagerly, waiting for Zhang Congwen to continue.

But instead, Zhang Congwen said, “As for what really shows thoughtfulness, that’s up to you to decide.”

“Damn it! Isn’t that just useless talk? Of course I know it has to be thoughtful, but you have to tell me what to get specifically!” Song Jiawei protested.

Zhang Congwen replied indifferently, “How would I know? I’ve never even had a girlfriend. And here you are, about to get a girlfriend, coming to ask me—what’s wrong with your brain?”

At that moment, Song Jiawei almost wanted to knock Zhang Congwen’s brains out. But considering Zhang Congwen was still of use to him, he abandoned the idea.

“Don’t rely on anyone. I’ll figure it out myself,” he declared, then returned to his room.

The next morning, Song Jiawei headed out early. When he came back, he was carrying a shopping bag and looked elated.

He told Zhang Congwen, “Tomorrow, I’ll be bidding farewell to singlehood. I won’t be in the same league as single dogs like you anymore.”

With that, he went back to his room.

On the day they’d agreed to train the dogs, Zhang Congwen got up early, only to find Song Jiawei had gotten up even earlier. Song Jiawei was holding a gift box and about to head out.

“What’s that smell on you?” Zhang Congwen asked, catching a whiff as he walked past.

“Well? Smells good, right?” Song Jiawei answered, brimming with pride.

“What is it, some old domestic brand of soap?” Zhang Congwen sniffed again, unconvinced.

“Old domestic brand, my ass! Soap, my ass!” Song Jiawei was on the verge of losing it. “It’s perfume! Perfume! I spent over a thousand bucks on this.”

“But it smells just like soap,” Zhang Congwen replied aggrievedly. He sniffed again, even more certain. “Definitely soap.”

“Get lost! No taste at all,” Song Jiawei muttered, thoroughly disgruntled, and stormed out.

Song Jiawei had indeed bought perfume, and on a whim, he’d sprayed himself with the complimentary sample that morning. He thought it smelled amazing, but being told it reeked of soap made him doubt his own judgment.

Zhang Congwen didn’t bother worrying about whether Song Jiawei was upset. He made his way once again to Zhuang Bowen’s house.

Zhuang Bowen was already prepared. Several small wooden stools, a few pillows, and a battered chair were arranged in the yard. Clearly, he’d learned his lesson and wasn’t investing as much as last time. Still, determined to get to the bottom of the issues with his dogs, he’d bought several extra cameras and installed them in various corners of the house to observe the four sled dogs from every angle.

After moving everything into the living room, the two left Zhuang Bowen’s house and used his phone to monitor the sled team’s every move through the home security cameras.

At first, as they left, the four dogs acted entirely normal, lying quietly at the door where Zhuang Bowen had exited, looking well-behaved.

“They must miss me,” Zhuang Bowen said, moved by the sight. “I think they really have separation anxiety.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the Husky suddenly jumped up and dashed away. Zhuang Bowen quickly switched camera angles and saw the Husky at a window, front paws on the sill, peering out.

“Is something going on outside?” Zhuang Bowen wondered aloud.

The Husky soon answered him—it returned to the door without doing anything else, but the other three dogs stood up in perfect sync.

The Samoyed barked, as if to say, “All right, team, let’s get to work! Safety first, everyone!”

Leading the whole sled team, it trotted cheerfully straight into the living room.

“That’s not what separation anxiety looks like,” Zhang Congwen commented, watching the four dogs scamper off.

Zhuang Bowen switched the feed to the living room and saw the four sled dogs had clear roles. The Husky immediately chose the battered chair, expertly knocking it over and beginning to gnaw. The Husky found a pillow and started biting into it, while the other two each picked a small stool and began chewing away.

After a short while, the Samoyed stood up, glanced at the pillow the Husky had already ripped open, and switched targets, picking a new pillow to destroy.

“Pick the softest fruit first,” Zhang Congwen quipped.

The Alaskan abandoned its stool and joined in on a pillow too. Only the Husky remained stubbornly gnawing the battered chair.

Three pillows were quickly gutted. The Husky finally gave up on the chair and joined in on the remaining pillows. But with only two pillows left, four dogs had to share—two per pillow, pulling from either end.

With teamwork, the sled team’s demolition efficiency soared—the last two pillows were torn apart in no time, their stuffing scattered all over the floor.

With the pillows gone, nothing soft remained, so the four dogs turned back to the stools and the battered chair.

But this didn’t last long. The Samoyed got up again and headed to the kitchen door, where a lattice gate had been installed to keep the dogs out. The Samoyed sniffed around the gate, then disappeared from camera view. Soon after, the Husky trotted over, put its front paws on the highest part of the gate, and gave it a strong push. The gate didn’t budge.

But the Husky didn’t give up. It pushed several more times. Then, with a loud crack, the supposedly sturdy gate collapsed, screws flying from the wall.

“Son of a—” Zhuang Bowen exclaimed, torn between exasperation and amusement.

He’d always known the gate wouldn’t keep out his four dogs, but he’d never seen how they actually took it down. He’d thought it would take all four working together, putting in a real effort. He never imagined it would only take one Husky, who handled it with ease.

“Veteran,” Zhang Congwen remarked.

Clearly, this Husky was an old hand, knowing exactly how to dismantle a gate and where its weakest point was. To be this skilled, it must have done this countless times before.