Chapter Ninety-Seven: Before the Campaign Bears Fruit, the Foot Is Already Wounded

Now that the problem was understood, the next step was naturally to train it.

No one had expected an accident to happen before the training had even begun.

Training such a bad-tempered large dog was something even Zhang Congwen would not dare treat lightly. So before starting, Zhang Congwen had Ding, the kennel manager, put a muzzle on the Tibetan mastiff.

But to his surprise, Ding made a fatal mistake at that very moment. When he went into the dog cage, he had not shut the gate properly. The instant he tried to fit the muzzle on it, the Tibetan mastiff suddenly flew into a rage and charged straight at Zhang Congwen.

Because the gate had not been secured, the dog burst through it at once.

"Watch out!" Ding shouted in alarm.

Zhang Congwen was startled and reacted immediately, forcing every muscle in his body to go still.

It was already too late. The Tibetan mastiff clamped its jaws around his ankle.

Zhang Congwen could clearly feel its fangs sink into his flesh as easily as a sharp dagger. Even so, he did not dare move a muscle. He could only endure the searing pain and stand frozen in place.

For any unnecessary movement, or even the slightest sign of fear, might only stir the dog's ferocity further.

All Zhang Congwen could do now was remain motionless and wait, judging whether the dog truly intended to attack him or whether this was merely a tentative strike born of its sensitive temperament.

If it was the former, then all he could do was leave his fate to the heavens, struggle a little, and suffer his injury like a hero. If it was the latter, then after one attack it would quickly back off and would not continue pressing the assault.

Fortunately, what this Tibetan mastiff showed was the latter, not the former.

Ding quickly brought the situation under control and shut the dog back inside the cage.

Only then did Zhang Congwen finally let out a breath of relief. At the same time, however, a fierce wave of pain came surging up from his ankle. Though he could barely stay on his feet, the leg that had been bitten still trembled uncontrollably.

Blood instantly stained his trouser leg, socks, and shoes, sticky and hot.

All the while Ding apologized to him in shame and took him to the hospital.

After a round of examinations at the hospital, Ding finally put his mind at ease.

The Tibetan mastiff had not bitten with full force. Though its fangs had pierced the skin and flesh, the wound was not deep and had not caused any more serious injury. It was only that Zhang Congwen's foot would be unusable for the time being.

Since he could not use his foot, dog training could not continue, so Ding had no choice but to send Zhang Congwen back to his rented room.

While lying on the bed, Zhang Congwen kept sighing, feeling that he had been too careless after all.

Especially when dealing with Ding.

Back at the dog market, Ding had already had one incident where a wolf-dog escaped. And now, during the training of this Tibetan mastiff, a similar accident had happened again.

It was plain to see that Ding was the sort of person who was careless and inattentive.

"Ah, I'm just too kind, too quick to trust people," Zhang Congwen lamented to himself on the bed.

When Song Jiawei and Zhu Qingyan heard about it, they quickly came to the rented room to visit him. After learning that Zhang Congwen would not be left disabled because of it, they too finally relaxed.

However, Song Jiawei did not stay in Zhang Congwen's room for long before thinking of leaving again.

Zhang Congwen could not help complaining, "You fat bastard, do you even have a conscience? I’m injured, and you still don’t want to keep me company a little longer?"

Song Jiawei, looking utterly unconcerned, said, "Listen, you can call me fat, but don’t put 'dead' in front of it. Besides, I'm working on a big deal right now. I don't have time to sit around with you."

Then he tossed Zhang Congwen a plastic water bottle and said, "And don't say I have no conscience. I borrowed this bottle from the lady downstairs who collects recyclables, and I did it with a thick enough face."

"There's not even a drop of water in this bottle. What are you giving it to me for? If you want me to drink more water, at least bring me a cup," Zhang Congwen said indignantly.

Song Jiawei replied, "It's not for drinking water. It's for draining water."

With that, he walked out.

"Damn it!" Zhang Congwen angrily threw the bottle into the trash.

It turned out Song Jiawei had given him the bottle to pee into.

Although his ankle was injured, he simply could not put weight on it. That did not mean he could not walk at all; going to the bathroom to pee was still possible.

Besides, the bottle opening was so small that not even the tip would fit through. How could he possibly aim into it?

If he tried to pee while pressed right up against the mouth of the bottle, not a single drop would go in; everything would spray outside. Don't ask Zhang Congwen how he knew that.

"I may be able to piss ten zhang against the wind, but I can't fight against atmospheric pressure," he thought bitterly.

But if he held the bottle at some distance and tried to pee into it, the aim required would be absurd. Worse still, he might end up peeing on his own hand. At the very least, it would need to be the kind of wide mouth found on those sports drink bottles.

If nothing else, a funnel would do.

Zhang Congwen felt rather depressed.

Fortunately, Zhu Qingyan had plenty of conscience and did not leave like Song Jiawei. Instead, she took up the task of caring for Zhang Congwen.

It had to be said that Zhu Qingyan was excellent at looking after people. She even made Zhang Congwen wonder at one point whether he had been admitted to the ICU, as if he were suddenly incapable of taking care of himself.

Even that night, Zhu Qingyan cooked him a meal. After Zhang Congwen finished eating, she tidied up a little more before finally leaving in peace.

"So comfortable."

Those two words slipped from Zhang Congwen's mouth.

Being looked after felt wonderful. Especially by someone as gentle and attentive as Zhu Qingyan.

Although her cooking was not as delicious as that of her mother, Liu Mei, it was still very good in Zhang Congwen's eyes.

At the very least, it was much better than his.

After all, Zhang Congwen was not one of those catastrophic kitchen disasters you see in online videos, but he was the kind of person who often had a shaky hand and accidentally added twice as much vinegar or salt as needed.

Because his ankle was injured and that foot could not bear weight, Zhang Congwen's range of movement for several days was limited to the rented room.

But he did not sit idle during that time. He continued researching how to train a guide dog for Xiao Xiao.

Zhang Congwen had always been in excellent shape, and his recovery was very fast.

Originally, the doctor had said it would take about ten to fifteen days for Zhang Congwen's injury to heal, but after only a week, he had already recovered to nearly full strength.

As soon as he was better, Zhang Congwen rushed straight back to Dingxi Dog Farm, ready for a second battle with the Tibetan mastiff.

He was in such a hurry because, in the past few days, Song Jiawei had somehow contacted several clients, all of whom wanted Zhang Congwen to train dogs for them. But the delay from Zhang Congwen's foot injury had held things up.

If he did not start hurrying soon, those hard-won orders were going to slip away.

"Sometimes being too good at business isn't a good thing either," Zhang Congwen sighed sincerely. "Now they even want me to go into battle while sick. They don't even treat a production-team donkey this badly."

Though he said that, Zhang Congwen was actually very happy inside. Before, he had been working for others, being a beast of burden for someone else, so of course there had been some reluctance in it. Now he was a beast of burden for himself, working for himself, and naturally it felt different.

"Be a monkey, be a carefree, dashing monkey. While freeloading and mooching, I can still slap them all silly..."

Singing as he went, Zhang Congwen arrived at Dingxi Dog Farm.