Chapter Forty: Reaping What One Has Sown

Although the plan to draw Zhu Qingyan’s attention with the dog had failed, Yang Baoqian immediately devised another scheme. Seeing that Zhu Qingyan was afraid of the French bulldog, he decided this was his moment to play the hero and rescue the damsel in distress.

Without hesitation, he strode forward and kicked the French bulldog away from Zhu Qingyan. After delivering that kick, he felt incredibly handsome, confident that his decisive action would surely improve Zhu Qingyan’s opinion of him.

In truth, Zhu Qingyan had indeed witnessed Yang Baoqian’s kick, even though she was frightened. But contrary to his expectations, she didn't find the act charming; instead, her impression of him worsened further.

Yang Baoqian hadn’t used much force; he merely sent the French bulldog tumbling across the floor, causing no harm. The dog’s barrel-shaped body rolled a few times, then struggled to its feet and, still eager to please, approached Zhu Qingyan and the others once more, seemingly unfazed by its recent treatment.

This display, though Zhu Qingyan was still scared, made her feel a pang of sympathy for the bulldog, as round and squat as a gas canister.

Zhu Qingyan’s grip on Zhang Congwen’s arm was starting to hurt, so Zhang Congwen, rather than paying attention to the dog, turned to comfort her. He suspected that if he didn’t soothe her soon, she might just snap his arm in two.

With Zhang Congwen’s reassurance, Zhu Qingyan’s fear gradually subsided. At his gentle prompting, she slowly confessed her true reason for fearing the dog.

Unable to help himself, Zhang Congwen chuckled and said, “This is a French bulldog, not a pug. And even ordinary pugs aren’t quite as fierce as you described.”

Zhu Qingyan felt a bit embarrassed at being teased, but for some reason, her sense of dread had diminished considerably.

Yang Baoqian, seeing this, quickly joined in comforting Zhu Qingyan. After all, he couldn’t just stand by and let Zhang Congwen steal all the spotlight. Yet after offering a few words, Yang Baoqian wisely fell silent.

He realized that Zhu Qingyan treated Zhang Congwen very differently from himself. With him, she was always curt and indifferent, but with Zhang Congwen, she was warm and cheerful. This only deepened Yang Baoqian’s rivalry with Zhang Congwen, though he still tried to maintain his composure.

Thanks to Zhang Congwen’s soothing words, Zhu Qingyan finally understood the difference between French bulldogs and pugs, and she even felt a desire to pet the barrel-shaped dog.

Yang Baoqian, thinking himself perceptive, brought the French bulldog over to Zhu Qingyan. With one hand still clutching Zhang Congwen’s arm, she tentatively reached out to touch the dog’s head.

The French bulldog, well raised by its original owner, remained docile despite the uncomfortable way Yang Baoqian was holding it. Seeing Zhu Qingyan’s hand approaching, it didn’t flinch or struggle, almost as if, in its worldview, humans could never possibly harm it.

Zhu Qingyan gently stroked the bulldog a few times, finding its texture quite pleasant and entirely different from her own pet, Tuantuan. This emboldened her further.

In her delight, she reached out to take the dog from Yang Baoqian, who seized the opportunity to adjust his grip ever so slightly.

It was a small move, but Yang Baoqian was cunning. By shifting his hands, he ensured that when Zhu Qingyan took the dog, her hands would inevitably brush against his. Though such a gesture might seem insignificant to most, to Yang Baoqian, it was far from trivial.

He wasn’t trying to take advantage of Zhu Qingyan; rather, he wanted to create a chance for physical contact. Yang Baoqian was no novice in the art of courting women, and he knew that even the smallest touch could subtly close the distance between them. Although such contact wouldn’t be decisive, it might open a tiny crack in the walls around her heart.

Yet, at this critical moment, something entirely unexpected happened.

A loud sound echoed from the French bulldog, audible even from the farthest corner of the living room.

The three were stunned, then a foul stench spread through the air.

At that crucial moment, the French bulldog had let out a most untimely and pungent fart.

Zhu Qingyan, her hand still halfway outstretched, immediately withdrew and covered her nose, darting to the window like a startled rabbit.

Zhang Congwen waved his hand in front of his nose. Though it was unpleasant, he could tolerate it.

Yang Baoqian, however, was annoyed. First, his hands were occupied holding the dog, leaving him unable to shield himself from the smell. Second, the dog had ruined his opportunity at the worst possible moment.

Being closest to the dog’s rear, Yang Baoqian caught the full brunt of the odor, and it made him nauseous.

“Get lost!” he snapped, and in his frustration, he hurled the bulldog away. The dog landed awkwardly and yelped in pain, scurrying to a corner and casting frightened glances at Yang Baoqian, unable to comprehend why this human was treating it so harshly.

Yang Baoqian grew more irritated the longer he looked at the dog. He even felt the urge to punish it further. If Zhu Qingyan weren’t present, and if the dog didn’t belong to someone else, he would have had no qualms about doing so.

He already disliked dogs, and now this one had ruined his plans, making him feel that the food he’d given it that morning was a complete waste. He resolved not to feed it that night, to let it go hungry, and to return it to his friend the next day as a way to vent his frustration.

He failed to realize that it was precisely because of what he had fed the bulldog in the morning that today’s fiasco had occurred.

To his further surprise, Zhang Congwen suddenly asked, “What did you feed it this morning?”

Annoyed, Yang Baoqian replied curtly, “Sweet potatoes, meat, dog food.”

He didn’t notice how harsh his tone had become, so different from the courteous persona he’d tried to present before Zhu Qingyan.

Zhang Congwen didn’t mind his tone, but went on, “You wanted me to help you train the dog, didn’t you? What exactly do you want me to teach it?”