Immortal Takeout - Chapter 25

Just as Mr. Grey Dog thought his short life was about to end, a human appeared.

That human wasn’t old, looking about fifteen or sixteen, chubby, with round eyes, striking premature white hair, and wrapped in a loose, shapeless school sports jacket.

“So it was you making noise,” he said, leaning over to lift the dog cage out of the trash bin. His movements were somewhat rough, and the front of his jacket got stained with nasty, greasy kitchen waste.

Mr. Grey Dog strained to lift his eyelids, weakly sizing up the other. This was a strange, brand new human. His face carried a smile, and when he spoke, his fleshy cheeks puffed out, like a fat squirrel.

“Your fur is white like my hair. You’re so cute,” the little fatty praised like this, “And your eyes are one yellow and one blue. So impressive.”

Mr. Grey Dog wanted to make a sound, but couldn’t utter anything.

The chubby kid waited near the trash bin for a long time. After confirming no one was coming back for the dog, he took Mr. Grey Dog home. Compared to the previous human family, the little fatty’s home seemed a bit strange. It was near the Spring Festival, but the house was cold and cheerless, without any sign of human activity. There were no adults at home. The little fatty brought Mr. Grey Dog a small bowl of leftover rice—that was originally his own dinner.

It was just a pity that Mr. Grey Dog couldn’t eat anything. He felt terrible, lying on the cold tile floor, emitting low whimpers.

The little fatty had never had a dog before and had no experience. He scratched his head and ears, at a loss. He tried to carry Mr. Grey Dog to his own bed for warmth, but before long, Mr. Grey Dog would tumble off the bed himself and continue lying on the cold floor. No matter how many times he repeated it, it was the same. Even more miserable was that shortly after dinner, Mr. Grey Dog started having diarrhea, and an indescribable smell filled the room.

The little fatty clumsily cleaned the room, pondering whether the dog was sick, then took all his pocket money and went out to buy medicine. In his mind, there was no concept of a pet hospital. The little fatty went to a human pharmacy to buy medicine. Relying on his memory of having diarrhea himself, he bought some gastrointestinal medicine. He ran home, tried to feed the medicine to the dog, who vomited it all over the floor again. They struggled on until midnight.

The next day, the situation didn’t improve. Mr. Grey Dog lay in the corner of the kitchen, motionless. Only the occasional blink revealed he was still breathing. The little fatty ran to a classmate’s house who had dogs to ask for help and learned that if a dog got sick, it needed to be seen by a specific doctor. But during the Spring Festival, all the pet clinics in the city, big and small, were closed.

The little fatty ran through more than half the empty city but ultimately returned home. He hugged Mr. Grey Dog, secretly wiping his tears, and continued feeding it human medicine. The little fatty’s parents both worked in other cities; he could only spend the holiday alone. Facing a sickly dog alone was really somewhat heavy for a child still in high school.

The little fatty made a long-distance call to his parents, patting his fleshy chest and guaranteeing he could make the top hundred in his grade in the next mock exam, thus overdrawing his entire pocket money allowance for the new year. On the first day the clinics opened after the Spring Festival holiday, the little fatty took Mr. Grey Dog to the nearest pet hospital. Mr. Grey Dog was diagnosed with late-stage parvovirus. The doctor said the possibility of a cure was very low. The little fatty took out all the money he had. The doctor, seeing his pitiful state, voluntarily reduced part of the medicine cost.

Mr. Grey Dog’s memory of this part is very blurry. He only remembers it was a rainy Spring Festival, incessant icy rain falling for a week. IV drips, injections, noise. The little fatty carried his cage, traveling back and forth between the hospital and home every day.

Mr. Grey Dog lay in the narrow cage, a soft sweater padding his belly. He stared intently outside, his nose filled with strange, new smells.

‘This world is so big’, he thought.

The little fatty told him, ‘When you get better, I’ll take you to the park, I’ll take you to climb mountains. He said, I told my classmates I have a Husky, and they’re all so envious. He said, Fried chicken is the best thing in the whole world.’

Miraculously, Mr. Grey Dog gradually recovered.

The doctor said to the little fatty, “It’s really incredible. Maybe the dog just has a connection with you. You can give it a name now.”

The little fatty said, “My name is Ma Yuliang, so the dog will take my surname, Ma. I want to call him Haha, because Haha sounds very happy. Ma Haha will definitely be the happiest dog in the whole world.”

Mr. Grey Dog wagged his tail.

Scolded by his parents for keeping a dog without permission, the chubby kid spent a rather unpleasant summer. He was ordered to focus on his studies and prepare for the class placement exams, shedding a whole layer of skin and losing two full clothing sizes.

Mr. Grey Dog lay at his feet, tongue lolling. Cicadas sang their hearts out in the trees outside the window, the scorching air distorting and warping all scenery between heaven and earth into colorful spots of light. Shuttling between dreams and reality, he fell from summer into autumn, then tumbled through winter.

Winter was no longer cold; there was no more enduring hunger or cold. After spring came another summer; the days never stopped. Life passed by swiftly. The chubby teenager grew into an adult, becoming a lean, wiry young man. He dyed his premature white hair strange colors, made different friends, left his hometown to study, then returned to Maochun from the big city.

The fondness of youth might be momentary novelty and impulse. But when the youth grows into an adult, love becomes responsibility. He loved Mr. Grey Dog wholeheartedly, accompanied him, and fulfilled all the promises made in his youth. They climbed high mountains together and ate fried chicken together. Mr. Ma Daha always had all sorts of whims, taking Mr. Grey Dog on one great adventure after another.

‘Haha’, he said, ‘I read in a book that your coat and eyes aren’t very common. If you lived in the wild, you might not survive because of the mutation. But it’s okay, I think you’re perfect just as you are. Look at my hair, it’s been white since I was little. To others, I’m a mutation too. We’re really a perfect match.’

When Mr. Grey Dog reached this point, he sighed. “Although my human wasn’t always reliable, he was a good person. When I was about to leave the human world, I finally admitted that what the old dogs in the puppy mill said back then wasn’t false. My previous life was fulfilling and satisfying.

The only one I couldn’t set my mind at ease about was my human. I know cultivating a human is a long and difficult process; it might succeed, or it might fail. I chose a successor for him to continue caring for him. I knew he could still be happy.

But if possible, I still wanted to return to his side. I hoped to become his friend. The same age as him, growing old together, always accompanying him. When he felt lonely, I could appear, not with my paws, not with my tongue, but with my words, my thoughts.

If one day he had a whim and said, ‘The weather is so nice today, let’s go fishing.’ I could answer, ‘Okay.'”

Tano blew his nose hard, making a ‘toot’ sound, and kept rubbing his eyes.

Luo Xiang had already finished his portion of fried chicken and was silently staring at the portion belonging to Mr. Grey Dog.

After his long speech, Mr. Grey Dog felt parched. He stopped and carefully licked the tip of his nose.

Tano rubbed his face, hiccupping as he said, “Even if you couldn’t speak before, Mr. Ma Daha must have heard your answer.” He lifted his face, looking seriously at Mr. Grey Dog. “Some words don’t need to be spoken aloud.”

Mr. Grey Dog’s heterochromatic eyes were clear and bright under the light, shining brilliantly.

Luo Xiang suddenly ‘tsk’ed, and abruptly threw his phone at Mr. Grey Dog, hitting him square on the head and raising a bump. Mr. Grey Dog let out a pained ‘yowl’. Startled, Tano instantly stopped hiccupping, his eyes wide with panic as he looked at the Little Boss.

Luo Xiang said, “That human is clearly an idiot. I don’t want to be contacts with an idiot. Here’s the phone, you deal with it yourself.”

At first, Mr. Grey Dog didn’t understand, a look of confusion on his face. Later, he caught on and was instantly overjoyed. “You mean… I can have this phone?” If he had a phone, he could interact and communicate with humans—a method he had never even considered before.

Luo Xiang used the tip of his foot to kick away a small stone. He had stayed too long and was growing impatient. The small stone tumbled and skipped a few times, bouncing far away, and finally hit Tano on the instep. Tano sucked in a sharp breath and squatted down to pat his shoe.

Mr. Grey Dog held the phone, utterly at a loss. He thanked him repeatedly, somewhat incoherently.

Tano was also happy for him. It seemed things had finally reached a perfect resolution. He said, “Now you can use the phone to take photos and send them to Mr. Ma Daha. He must miss you very much.”

Mr. Grey Dog nodded solemnly. He lowered his head and used his nose to tap open the phone’s web browser. After years of observing human life, he was no stranger to this. Slowly, Mr. Grey Dog typed the first Baidu query of his dog life into the new phone: ‘How can a dog take a selfie?’

Tano squatted nearby, watching enviously.

The human world is really wonderful, full of countless novel and fun things. You can communicate without even meeting—though you can’t be sure if the one chatting with you on the other end of the network is a human or a dog.

Just then, the little white umbrella emerged from somewhere, circling Luo Xiang once. Luo Xiang said, “Didn’t find it?” He frowned, his expression starting to turn serious. He looked up and called to Tano, “Collect the payment. Time to go home.”

Tano felt a bit reluctant to leave. He let out a hesitant “Oh,” slowly handed the fried chicken to Mr. Grey Dog, slowly accepted the payment, and slowly returned to Luo Xiang’s side.

“Can I have a mobile phone too?” he asked, looking up cautiously.

Luo Xiang raised an eyebrow, glanced at him, and said nothing.

Tano’s head drooped. He remembered—he still owed the Little Boss a jar of small dried fish.

“It’s good that you actively remembered this debt,” Luo Xiang said, as if seeing through Tano’s thoughts, nodding with satisfaction. “You should develop the habit of keeping accounts, always checking what you still owe.” Regarding Tano’s “previous poor record,” Little Boss Luo Xiang still held a grudge.

“But… I usually don’t run up debts,” Tano retorted quietly.

Luo Xiang said, “The shop needs proper bookkeeping. Are you planning to rely on memory alone from now on?”

Tano walked ahead in silence for a few steps. A long while later, he suddenly had an epiphany, grasping another layer of meaning in the Little Boss’s words.

“Are you saying I succeeded?” Tano’s eyes widened, and he clenched his fists tightly. “Are we strategic cooperative partners now?”

He had been fixated on this plan. Otter Big Brother had once told him that in the human world, a strategic cooperative partnership was the highest-level, largest-scale business relationship. Tano firmly believed that only by establishing this relationship with the Daluo Grocery could he possibly reach the peak of his career.

“Did I say that?” Luo Xiang frowned, seemingly speaking offhandedly. “I only said it’s under consideration. As for the final result of the consideration…”

Tano nodded vigorously, repeating eagerly, “I know, I know! It all depends on my own efforts!”

Luo Xiang looked at him, his face like a still pond, his eyes like morning stars.

Tano was so happy his tail was about to pop out. He bounced on the spot, feeling it wasn’t exuberant enough, then grabbed the Little Boss’s arm and shook it. The salt jar in his bag made a ‘swish-swish’ sound from the grains rubbing together.

‘Ding ding—swish swish—’

Luo Xiang shook off his arm disdainfully and wiped the back of his hand vigorously on Tano’s clothes. He said nothing, his lips pressed tightly together, looking somewhat annoyed. Tano didn’t mind, still beaming with a radiant smile.

Mr. Grey Dog, holding the phone in his mouth, nodded in farewell to Luo Xiang and Tano, watching them leave from afar.

— I’ll go make a “Immortal Takeout” signboard to hang up tomorrow! I designed it ages ago. Guess what color I plan to use?

— I don’t want to know.

— Then I’ll tell you. I want pink with gold trim. That looks both lively and professional. And the signboard absolutely must be big, that’s more impressive. We can even write a lot of thank-you credits underneath!

— If you dare put my name on it, I’ll hit you.

— Do you want the small dried fish with pepper-salt or cumin flavor?

— Pepper-salt.

— Okay!