Despite the prevalence of dog owners in the area, Jing Lan’s immediate intuition told him that the dog he had accidentally struck was this man’s.
Approaching the man, Jing Lan inquired, “Is your dog black and yellow, a little stout, with long ears?”
“It is? Boss, have you seen him?”
“I might have hit him with my car.”
Ling Yechen had fully expected Brother Dao to erupt in anger at Jing Lan; however, Brother Dao merely revealed a crestfallen expression. “Alas,” he sighed, “it’s just the poor dog’s unlucky fate. Master Daosheng once advised me to give him a humble name, but I didn’t listen, and now this has happened.”
Upon hearing the name Master Daosheng, Jing Lan’s eyebrows subtly arched. The name resonated with familiarity, yet he harbored no desire to delve into the topic.
“It was my careless driving, Big Brother, I truly apologize,” Jing Lan admitted, not shying away from responsibility. “I can offer compensation.”
“No need! Absolutely no need!” Brother Dao vehemently waved his hands, as if Jing Lan were merely being overly polite. “I was the one who failed to keep my dog properly restrained!”
Ling Yechen found the unfolding events utterly surreal.
He had been dreadfully concerned that Brother Dao would mercilessly fleece Jing Lan for a hefty sum.
At that moment, the old uncle standing nearby interjected, “Little Dao, you won’t believe it, but you two share a peculiar karmic connection. Little Jing here is actually a disciple of Master Daosheng.”
Following a brief exchange of introductions, and with no further small talk, Jing Lan reiterated his offer to compensate Brother Dao for the dog. Yet, Brother Dao adamantly refused, even remarking, “It’s still uncertain whether that was even my dog!”
“Well, that settles it then, Big Brother, why don’t we just drive back and take a look?” Lui Si suggested, currently enjoying a bowl of “Paoruda”—a Southeast Asian snack featuring breadsticks steeped in coconut milk—which Old Uncle Lü had brought over.
“Indeed!” the old uncle chimed in. “Little Dao, dog meat is said to nourish trees. You two should bring the deceased dog back and bury it beneath your pomelo tree—you know, the *paoguo* tree, as we call the local grapefruit here. This year, you’ll surely harvest plump *paoguo*.”
Ling Yechen struggled to comprehend why his senior would so readily confess to hitting the dog, thereby risking financial repercussions, and even more so, why Brother Dao remained so remarkably amiable throughout the ordeal.
Having been raised in a sprawling metropolis, he had long since been instilled with the harsh parental philosophy that ‘the world is a dog-eat-dog place.’
Even in his academically distinguished past, he had not been immune to experiencing a certain ruthless pleasure from the cutthroat competition inherent in examination-focused education.
Confronted now with such magnanimous and benevolent individuals, Ling Yechen felt an profound sense of unreality, which quickly gave way to a wave of sorrow. He perceived a certain ugliness within his own soul.
Brother Dao readily agreed to return to the accident site immediately. Ling Yechen and Lui Si, meanwhile, remained at Baoguo Restaurant to continue their rest, as Jing Lan drove Brother Dao back to the scene.
Though it wouldn’t have mattered if they hadn’t returned, the moment they arrived at the site, Jing Lan was utterly dumbfounded. The large dog was nowhere to be found. All that remained was a pool of blood in the center of the road, along with the telltale bloodstains left by him and Ling Yechen as they had dragged the dying animal.
Another pool of blood marred the roadside.
“With that much blood, it’s definitely dead,” Brother Dao muttered, shaking his head in resignation as he fixed his gaze upon the bloodstains on the ground.
“The body was likely picked up by some passing old man,” he speculated, using the local term for an elder. “It’s quite impressive, though—which old man possesses such immense strength?”
Jing Lan stepped forward, observing closely. “No, Brother Dao, look closely,” he stated, “there are paw prints beside this blood.”
Brother Dao moved closer to inspect, and sure enough, beside the roadside bloodstain, a series of dog paw prints—each stained with blood, resembling a trail of crimson plum blossoms—extended for a meter or two along the road. The prints then faded, presumably as the blood on the dog’s paws ran out.
Brother Dao, utterly astonished, crouched down, meticulously examining the paw prints on the ground. “I’ve truly seen it all now!” he murmured incredulously. “What kind of dog possesses such an indomitable will to live? Brother Jing, let’s scour the area immediately! It’s possible Wangcai is still alive!”
Jing Lan replayed the harrowing image of the dog splayed grotesquely in its own blood, finding it impossible to believe that the creature’s life force could be so incredibly tenacious.
Yet, a dead dog could not possibly walk, and the clear paw prints on the ground unequivocally confirmed that the dog had indeed risen and walked away after being struck.
In stark contrast to certain unscrupulous individuals who might feign injury for personal gain, this dog genuinely commanded a sense of profound respect.
Furthermore, Jing Lan’s curiosity was piqued by what appeared to be a biological marvel.
The two men scoured the highway for nearly half a kilometer, yet their search yielded nothing.
“Alright, alright, he’s as free as the wind now, so we can only turn back,” Brother Dao conceded. With the dog still elusive, he abandoned his persistence and gestured for Jing Lan to head back.
Jing Lan acknowledged him with a soft “Eh,” but his ears caught a faint, indistinct clamor emanating from behind them.
Listening more intently, he distinguished what sounded like the bleating of sheep.
Brother Dao had evidently heard it too, and he turned around. “Sheep bleating? That’s Little Lamai from our town; he’s a shepherd.”
As he spoke, Brother Dao bellowed into the distance, “Little Lamai, come join us for a drink later!”
Gazingo down the road, they watched as the young shepherd boy sprinted towards them, his voice carrying clearly. “Brother Dao, I was just looking for you!” he cried. “What’s wrong with your Wangcai? He’s attacking my sheep!”
Upon hearing this, Brother Dao exclaimed with excitement, “What? You saw Wangcai?”
A moment later, however, a sense of unease settled upon him, for he knew Wangcai to be good-natured, never attacking humans or animals.
He swiftly ran towards Little Lamai, questioning as he went, “How could he possibly bite a sheep? Are you certain you haven’t mistaken him for another dog?”
“No mistake at all! He just bolted into the woods, and I think he’s still right there!”
Almost simultaneously, Jing Lan, trailing behind Brother Dao, caught sight of a black and yellow flash disappearing into the tall mugwort leaves by the roadside.
“The dog is there!” Jing Lan exclaimed. The moment he spoke, the unseen presence in the tall grass rustled, then launched itself with startling speed towards him.
Muscle memory, swift and decisive, took over. The combat techniques he had diligently honed over the past two years, for reasons unknown, sprang into action as Jing Lan pivoted, delivering a forceful kick to the head of the lunging dog.
“It’s me! Wangcai! Don’t be scared!”
Witnessing his beloved canine companion seemingly resurrected, Brother Dao was naturally overjoyed, hurrying forward, clapping his hands together, to greet the dog.
He quickly, however, sensed that something was profoundly amiss with the dog.
One side of the dog’s head was visibly flattened, a comminuted fracture discernible even at a glance. Its ears were tattered and pulpy, resembling overcooked wood ear mushrooms, and one eyeball seemed perilously close to rolling out of its socket. Moreover, the dog’s fur bristled wildly, as if it had suffered an electric shock.
This was unequivocally not a normal dog.
Nevertheless, his deep affection for his dog prevented him from exercising caution in a timely manner.
The once-loyal dog, which had daily wagged its tail and licked his hand, now suddenly bared gleaming, ferocious teeth, snorted foul breath from its nostrils, and with a grotesque roll of its askew eyeball, it launched itself at Brother Dao, sinking its fangs into his forearm.
Brother Dao cried out in agony, yanking the folding knife from his waist and wildly stabbing at the dog’s neck.
Fortunately, his extensive experience with dogs meant he knew precisely where the carotid artery lay in a dog’s neck. A single, decisive stab found its mark, and as blood gushed, the dog’s thrashing body gradually, finally, went limp.
By this point, Little Lamai had also rushed over. The three men gathered closer, observing two rows of deep teeth marks on Brother Dao’s forearm, the skin already broken.
“Thank goodness, thank goodness!” Brother Dao murmured.
“What’s ‘good’ about this?” Jing Lan inquired.
“I received my rabies vaccination just last year!”
“That truly *is* fortunate! Nevertheless, we must take you to the clinic right away. A dog bite is no trivial matter and cannot be overlooked.”
Brother Dao and Little Lamai quickly settled the matter, with Brother Dao agreeing to compensate Little Lamai for the cost of a sheep. Jing Lan, in turn, offered to pay for Brother Dao’s dog, but Brother Dao waved his hands dismissively. “No, no, please,” he insisted, “I finally understand what happened. My dog must have been ill for a while, which is why he was running wild. The primary responsibility for him being hit by your car lies with me. Similarly, my dog was also responsible for biting Little Lamai’s sheep, so I’m the one who should compensate him.”
“You are truly a good man, Big Brother,” Jing Lan remarked with a sigh of admiration. “May the Bodhisattva protect you.”
Brother Dao offered a guileless smile. “That’s right, I do believe in the Bodhisattva, in our new Bodhisattva. If you have the time, I’ll take you to see our new Bodhisattva.”
Little Lamai herded his sheep back home alone, while Jing Lan drove Brother Dao to the rural clinic. It was there that Jing Lan finally learned Brother Dao’s true name: Dao Shangzou. “What a formidable name!” Jing Lan exclaimed. “To ‘Walk on Blades’—that’s truly a hero’s moniker!”
“Hehe,” Dao Shangzou chuckled. “It just so happens that many in our ethnic group share the surname Dao, and we’re rather fond of unusual names. Brother Jing, your name is excellent too; your surname and given name align perfectly, bringing ‘calm to the waves’!
As the two men chatted, the doctor administered rabies immunoglobulin and a tetanus shot to Dao Shangzou, prescribing some medication. The doctor then advised Dao Shangzou to rest for the next two days and to return punctually for follow-up examinations and four additional booster shots, before finally discharging them.
Time swiftly advanced to four o’clock in the afternoon, the sun already dipping below the mountainous horizon.
The sky assumed a cobalt blue hue, tinged with a subtle chill.
Evenings in Mengli Town were typically tranquil, marked only by the cheerful clatter of stir-frying emanating from every household.
Today, however, was an exception. The distinct sound of firecrackers echoed from a few houses away.
“Is someone getting married today?” Jing Lan asked, chatting with Uncle Baoguo.
“You should come join the festivities too! You’re Old Cun’s eldest grandson; even if they don’t know you personally, they’ll know of you.”
“No, thank you. I’m rushing to Mengshan.”
Mengshan County was his cousin Keke’s hometown. His cousin was now in university and had just returned home a few days prior.
The incident with the dog had already caused significant delays. Any later, and they would be driving at night.
As one of China’s three major forest regions, the Southwest Forest Area presented unpredictable hazards at night, with unknown creatures potentially darting out from the roadside.
Lost in thought, Jing Lan suddenly remembered he should call his cousin Keke. He might arrive later than expected tonight.
As he pulled out his phone, the screen flickered with an incoming call; his cousin, by a remarkable coincidence, was calling him at that very moment.
A faint smile touched his lips. Truly, a meeting of minds.
– “Where are you, Big Brother?”
– “Mengli. Our car hit Big Brother Dao Shangzou’s dog…”
– “See? That’s why I told you to play less GTA. Good thing it was just a dog this time…”
The pleasantries did not last long.
– “Let’s get to the point. Brother, I’m afraid you and Lui Si won’t be able to reach Mengshan tonight.”
When his sister’s voice turned serious, it carried a chilling edge that sent a shiver down his spine.
Jing Lan’s heart indeed sank.
– “Did something happen?”
– “Likely. Mengshan County has been placed under emergency lockdown, and the Ethnic Middle School is also in lockdown. It’s infuriating; I can’t seem to get out.”
– “Wait, you’re a university student. Why are you at the Ethnic Middle School?”
– “I came back to visit a junior. But never mind that. The information I’ve gathered suggests there might be an epidemic outbreak.”
– “That doesn’t warrant such an extreme reaction, does it? Mengshan County isn’t Raccoon City.”
Jing Lan found it somewhat unbelievable.
– “I don’t know. You’re right, Brother. If it’s truly just an epidemic, this response seems overly drastic. It feels more like some kind of critical emergency.”
– “What about our band’s performance…?”
A brief silence followed on the other end of the line.
– “Ling Yechen really wants to play the drums again, doesn’t he? If nothing unexpected happens, this arrangement will likely have to be canceled. He might be upset. Brother, please comfort him well. This is just my feeling, but he… he’s quite fragile.”
His cousin then lowered her voice, murmuring softly, “Just like you used to be. Mwah.”
After bidding his cousin farewell, Jing Lan hung up the phone. He noticed several more vehicles entering Mengli Town.
Among them was the truck transporting fat pigs that they had encountered earlier on the road.
The news of the blocked road leading into Mengshan County quickly spread through the small town, carried by the drivers of these vehicles.