Extra 3: A belated daily life

Translator: Abo Dammen

1. A belated daily life

After being together for several years, a new family member arrived in their home this autumn. It was a three-month-old golden retriever puppy, adopted from a colleague.

That noon, while the colleague was showing Chi Zhao medical imaging scans of a patient, he accidentally clicked into his photo album. The first picture that popped up was a group photo of several puppies. With just that fleeting glance, Chi Zhao suddenly remembered one of the puppies lying at the very edge of the frame, as if it was love at first sight.

After work in the evening, Chi Zhao specifically went to his colleague’s place to inquire, “Were those dogs in the photo from noon yours?”

“What dogs?” The colleague was utterly confused, having completely forgotten about it. After being stunned for several seconds, he finally reacted, patted his own head, and reopened his phone’s photo album to show Chi Zhao. “You mean this?”

With the photo right in front of him, Chi Zhao took a look and said, “Yes, this one.”

“These are the pups from my dog,” the colleague said, looking at the photos with Chi Zhao, his smile both happy and helpless. “She had several in one litter, and it’s getting hard to manage them all.”

In the photo, several puppies were lying together, like a large ball of golden, fluffy cotton. Newborn puppies don’t look very different from each other; they’re all furry and round. But Chi Zhao found his attention drawn solely to one—the one lying at the very edge of the frame, partly squashed under another puppy. That puppy’s face was half-hidden, its eyes half-squinted. Its frame was noticeably smaller and thinner than its siblings. Its long, golden fur was slightly curly, its ears drooped, but its squinting eyes held a sparkling light.

“It’s just too adorable,” Chi Zhao praised with a laugh. His fingertip circled)on the screen, and finally he pointed at it: “What’s this one’s name?”

“Let me see…” The colleague squinted at the screen for a moment and said, “This one is called ‘Chidao’.”

Chi Zhao was stunned, “What did you say?”

Colleague: “Chidao!”

Chi Zhao: “Chi Zhao?” (Thinking his own name was said)

The pronunciations of “Chidao” and “Chi Zhao” are somewhat similar. It took the two of them a good while to straighten things out. The colleague quickly waved his hands: “No, no, not your name! It’s ‘Chidao’!”

The colleague exaggerated his mouth movements and traced his finger on the screen: “Chi—Dao—! The ‘Chi’ from ‘come late’, the ‘Dao’ from ‘arrive’.¹ The ‘Chidao’ that means ‘to be late’.”

The colleague explained to Chi Zhao that this puppy was the last one born, keeping the mother dog in labor for several extra hours, so the family had given it this name. The similar pronunciation created a small mix-up, seeming like a fated connection, and this little dog truly did end up coming to Chi Zhao’s home.

That day, while looking at the photo, the colleague asked Chi Zhao. “Do you like it? Why don’t you take it? I think you two are quite fated.”

The colleague’s dog had had a litter of puppies, and he had been looking for people to adopt them. Chi Zhao’s gaze repeatedly fell on the screen, meeting the eyes of that one puppy, looking again and again. But in the end, he shook his head. “Forget it. Both my partner and I are busy. I’m afraid we wouldn’t raise it well.”

Chi Zhao had always liked dogs, but before this, he had never seriously considered getting one. Having a pet isn’t a whim, it means taking responsibility for a living creature. Feeding it when hungry, caring for it when sick, along with daily training and companionship—it’s a long-term process. Chi Zhao was genuinely afraid he wouldn’t do a good job. Both he and Fu Nan’an were too busy. Professor Fu’s eyes had only recently improved, and Chi Zhao didn’t want to cause Fu Nan’an any extra worry.

“Really won’t take it?” the colleague persisted. “Actually, puppies aren’t that hard to raise.”

Chi Zhao moved his gaze away from the screen and smiled. “Better not.”

Having refused his colleague like that, for the next several days Chi Zhao dreamt of the little dog named “Chidao”. He dreamt of it scampering towards him on its short little legs, its long, droopy ears flopping about. He also dreamt of it nuzzling and burrowing into his arms, sticking out its pink tongue to lick his face as if acting spoiled.

He was thus preoccupied for a long time. Then, a couple of days later during lunch, Fu Nan’an suddenly asked Chi Zhao. “Would you like to get a dog?”

Chi Zhao’s hand, holding his chopsticks poised over a dish, paused. “Why bring this up suddenly?”

He thought to himself that he hadn’t mentioned to Fu Nan’an about taking a liking to a puppy. Fu Nan’an put down his chopsticks, took out his phone, and with a few taps opened a photo to show Chi Zhao. “I happened to see this, and thought having a dog might be nice. Look at this one, from a friend’s house. I thought you’d like it the moment I saw it.”

Chi Zhao let out an “Ah” and took the phone, both shocked and delighted. The dog in the photo was all too familiar to him. It was none other than the “Chidao” that had been visiting his dreams night after night.

Fu Nan’an added, “Its name is quite fitting too. This little fellow is called Chidao, which also sort of follows your ‘Chi’ family name.”

“This is such a coincidence,” Chi Zhao said, both astonished and overjoyed, holding Fu Nan’an’s phone and looking at the picture repeatedly, confirming it over and over, finding it almost laughable. “How do you also have its photo? I saw it a few days ago.”

Fu Nan’an said,, “It was in Zou Anhe’s social media feed. We mentioned it briefly while chatting the other day.”

So it seems that something like fate truly cannot be blocked. Chi Zhao had refused his colleague, but never imagined that his colleague had once been a student of Zou Anhe’s years ago. And so, going round and round in circles, the news about the puppy needing a home reached Fu Nan’an, and caught his attention.

The medical circle is just that small, so knowing each other isn’t anything strange. But with so many coincidences stacked together, it really did seem like destiny. After comparing notes, the two of them brought the puppy home. They bought all sorts of pet supplies, and their originally quiet home gained a few more touches of liveliness and domesticity.

On the day they first brought it home, the puppy was shy of the new environment. It curled up in a corner and whined “ao wu” all evening. Chi Zhao pulled up a small stool and sat beside it, calling its name over and over, “Chidao… Chidao—”

Little Chidao seemed to really understand. Its round, bright eyes met Chi Zhao’s gaze. It lay down in its bed, then stood up again and touched Chi Zhao’s hand with its nose.

The puppy’s nose was damp, and where it touched his skin felt cool. Chi Zhao’s finger curled slightly. He stared at the small patch of skin the puppy had touched.

“Little Chidao—” he called again, then stretched out his fingers to rub Chidao’s furry head. He slowly curved the corners of his lips into a smile. “Welcome.”

When Chidao first arrived, he was very shy. For the first couple of days, apart from eating, he would just hide in his bed, curled up into a little ball, whimpering and looking especially pitiful. Within two weeks, once he had settled in, the mischievousness inherent in puppies was fully exposed. At two or three months old, a puppy’s curiosity is at its peak. Every day he would look around everywhere and chew on anything he could find. Every time Chi Zhao and Fu Nan’an returned home, it was a scene of disaster—trash from the bin would be dragged out and scattered on the floor, the toilet paper left on the table (who knows how he managed to reach it) would be shredded to pieces, and he wouldn’t even spare the sofa, gnawing and biting it until it was covered in his tooth marks.

Chi Zhao was both angry and helpless. He crouched down and tugged Chidao’s ear. “Chiiiidaoooo—!”

Chi Zhao was both angry and helpless. He crouched down and tugged Chidao’s ear. “Chiiiidaoooo—!”

The little troublemaker would instantly become well-behaved. Chidao would stand properly in front of Chi Zhao, as if admitting his fault, his beautiful eyes blinking. No matter how great your anger was, you’d have to swallow it back.

With scraps of paper all over the floor, Chi Zhao, feeling exasperated and cross, noisily cleaned up the mess on the floor. Then he put his hands on his hips and turned to scold Chidao. “You’re not allowed to do this again, understand?”

Chidao whined, looking utterly wronged. Fu Nan’an walked over, patted his head, then lifted him up into his arms. Turning to Chi Zhao, he said, “Don’t be angry. Why take it so personally with a puppy?”

“Of course I’m going to be angry!” Chi Zhao pointed at the newly tidied trash in the bin. “Look at the state of things!”

Chidao cautiously pawed at Fu Nan’an’s collar. Fu Nan’an was also rather helpless; he curled his fingers and flicked Chidao’s forehead. “Alright then, I’ll teach him.”

Chi Zhao was skeptical. “Can you really teach him?”

Fu Nan’an said, “I’ve raised a dog before, after all. I have some experience.”

From that day on, Fu Nan’an truly took on the task of training Chidao. Professor Fu had raised a dog before and was, moreover, a psychology professor. In theory, he should have been very experienced. Yet, unexpectedly, Chidao still wouldn’t listen to him at all.

After another week, Chidao was still like a little tornado, madly shredding paper and running around the house. When they went to bed at night, Chi Zhao whispered close to Fu Nan’an’s ear: “Is our Professor Fu perhaps not up to the task? Can’t even train one little puppy?”

They had already bathed, and both carried the same scent on them. The room was warm. Fu Nan’an kneaded Chi Zhao’s buttock, raised an eyebrow, and said, “Whether I’m up to the task or not, don’t you know?”

“I don’t know.” Under the cover of darkness, Professor Fu had shed his gentle exterior. Chi Zhao adored him fiercely like this too. He flipped over and straddled Fu Nan’an, deliberately grazing his teeth against Fu Nan’an’s Adam’s apple. “Unless you prove it to me!”

“Why are you biting people like the puppy too?” Fu Nan’an teased, but the movements of his hands were like fire. He turned over, pinning Chi Zhao beneath him, his actions domineering and leaving no room for refusal.

“Your wish is my command,” Professor Fu said with a low laugh.

Outside the door, the puppy restlessly scratched at it. Inside the bedroom, a scene of springtime passion unfolded, the sound of the dog barking mingled with gasps and pants.

It wasn’t until they were completely exhausted that Fu Nan’an brushed aside the sweat-dampened hair from Chi Zhao’s forehead and said leisurely, “You can’t blame me for this, Teacher Chi.”

Chi Zhao had no strength left in his body. He clung to Fu Nan’an and hummed vaguely. “Hmm?”

“Can’t blame me,” Fu Nan’an repeated, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “It’s all because you’re too enticing.”

Entrusting Professor Fu with teaching Chidao was indeed a mistaken decision. No matter how much experience he had, it was useless. Chidao had learned the essence of how Chi Zhao acted spoiled. As long as he let out a wronged whimper, Fu Nan’an couldn’t bear to scold him even a little.

2. A brief follow-up

During Chidao’s relatively short adolescence, the pair of “strict father and indulgent mother”, Chi Zhao and Fu Nan’an, worried themselves sick over this lively puppy. But as he grew older, Chidao gradually became more sensible and steady. The former little troublemaker transformed into an important member of the family and a capable assistant in all sorts of tasks.

If you didn’t want to fetch the remote, he could bring it over for you in his mouth.

Occasionally, when Chi Zhao couldn’t get out of bed, he even provided an early morning wake-up service.

The puppy was truly clingy, his eyes only for his owners. Every time either Chi Zhao or Fu Nan’an went out, the moment the sound of the door opening was heard, he couldn’t sit still. He’d cry out, biting the pant leg of the person leaving, trying to prevent them from going.

Chi Zhao was soft-hearted. Every time Chidao cried, his heart ached, and no matter how busy work was, he would definitely return home early. He’d come back to hug and kiss the puppy. Later, there was a period when Chi Zhao was away on consecutive business trips for several days. Fu Nan’an would send Chi Zhao daily updates about Chidao.

[First day without Teacher Chi: No appetite for food.]

[Second day without Teacher Chi: Stared at your clothes for a long time.]

[Third day without Teacher Chi: Missed you all night long.]

At first, Chi Zhao was genuinely worried about the puppy, anxiously thinking about returning quickly every day. But later, he gradually began to detect another meaning in those messages. He knew Chidao’s personality, no matter how reluctant he was at the moment of parting, he’d forget about it after a few days. With Fu Nan’an there, there was no way he’d be so lovesick that he neglected food and drink.

During another video call, Chi Zhao’s voice came through the phone. Chidao symbolically barked twice but didn’t even come close to the screen.

Chi Zhao raised an eyebrow:.”So this is what you call missing me?”

Fu Nan’an’s expression was unruffled, neither confirming nor denying.

“Is it the puppy who misses me, or is it someone else?” Chi Zhao laughed, asking deliberately. “Why do I feel the reactions you described don’t sound like the puppy’s?”

“The puppy misses you,” Fu Nan’an answered frankly. A moment later, he also laughed. “I miss you too, Teacher Chi.”

And so, Chidao, a true bachelor dog who had been neutered just after reaching adulthood, was forced to witness their love affair once again.