Chapter Nineteen: Inquiry

Little Darling Pet Shop sits along the street near a residential neighborhood. The storefront is modest, but the shop itself is longer than it is wide. At the entrance, wooden cages for display stand empty, no animals housed within. Shelves nearby are stacked with pet food and toys. The cashier’s counter is tucked into a corner, small and unobtrusive. Deeper inside, an enclosed space holds a pool for bathing pets, a grooming table, and a dryer.

The shop manager is a young man nearly six feet three, always smiling, who has won the favor of the elderly residents of the community, earning their unanimous praise. Sheng Yao knows the man’s surname is Yue—like his own, a rare surname pronounced “yue” in this context. Yue likely only knows Sheng’s surname, having heard bits of his story from neighbors.

Sheng Yao’s parents-in-law, who live in the neighborhood, don’t keep pets, only flowers. Yet, as they often chat and play chess with old neighbors, some of whom have pets, they’ve grown familiar with the young shop owner. They’ve even mentioned pet-keeping to Sheng Yao in passing.

In essence, the two are mere acquaintances, unrelated and unfamiliar. Yet Yue’s well-intentioned introduction once saved Sheng Yao’s life, altering the course of his existence.

A sense of fondness and kinship toward Yue has grown in Sheng Yao’s heart. With questions for the doctor lingering, he came straight to Yue, trusting that, given Yue’s helpful nature, he would neither conceal the truth nor harbor ill intentions.

“Hey there, little one, what are you looking to buy?” Yue greeted Sheng Yao with a broad grin, pausing his inventory work.

Sheng Yao felt a moment’s awkwardness.

Given his present appearance, Yue could hardly call him “Uncle Sheng.”

“Looking to buy a pet? Have you discussed it with your family? Want a cat, a dog, or something more unusual?” Yue asked warmly, stepping out from behind the counter, then stopping to examine Sheng Yao closely.

Sheng Yao smiled.

He and Bai Xiao had talked about how to comfort the frightened security guards and Aunt Qin from Longevity Park, but he had no intention of misleading Yue. The shop owner knew about the Monster Clinic and was well aware of the doctor’s “skills.”

“You look just like Uncle Sheng,” Yue said, suddenly startled by the realization. “Are you related to him?”

Sheng Yao was about to reply when a voice sounded behind him.

“Yue, I’ve brought Darling over. Could you give him a bath and a blow-dry? I’ll come back at lunchtime.”

Yue walked past Sheng Yao. “Alright. Darling, Darling! We’ll have a nice bath soon, you’ll smell wonderful.”

“Woof woof!”

“Oh, there’s a customer here. Who’s this…” The elderly man handed Yue the leash, lingering out of curiosity as he eyed Sheng Yao.

“He’s Uncle Sheng’s relative,” Yue said familiarly, “Right, little brother? You’re Uncle Sheng’s relative, aren’t you? You look so much like him…”

Sheng Yao was caught off guard. He had overlooked the fact that he was in the neighborhood where his parents-in-law lived, among familiar faces. Had he been at his and Bai Xiao’s new apartment, there would be no such trouble; he’d lived there thirty-six or thirty-seven years, and neighbors might recognize him, but not know him.

Resigned, Sheng Yao turned around, only to see the familiar face of Old Zhang, his father-in-law’s chess companion. The day of his father-in-law’s burial, he’d bumped into Old Zhang at the fitness plaza.

“I’m Sheng Yao’s nephew, his cousin’s son. You can just call me Xiao Sheng,” Sheng Yao introduced himself.

“Oh! You really do look alike!” Old Zhang marveled.

“Yes, yes, I thought the same when I first saw him. I even wondered if Uncle Sheng had gotten a facelift or some injections and turned young again,” Yue laughed heartily.

The mongrel dog wagged its tail happily and barked.

“How’s your uncle doing?” Old Zhang asked with genuine concern.

“He’s fine. At home, sorting things out, getting ready for a trip,” Sheng Yao lied.

He certainly wouldn’t grow those wrinkles again anytime soon.

“That’s good. Old Bai used to tell him to travel more. He worried about Old Bai’s health—‘with parents alive, don’t travel far.’ Now Old Bai has passed, he’s retired, so it’s good for him to go out and enjoy himself,” Old Zhang nodded repeatedly.

Yue glanced at Sheng Yao, saying nothing.

Old Zhang, eager to get to his chess game, spoke to the dog a bit more, then left with hands clasped behind his back.

Yue led the dog called Darling into the shop, calling back to Sheng Yao, “Your uncle’s going on a trip? Did he ask you to come?”

Sheng Yao hesitated.

Yue seemed not to be hiding anything, and Sheng Yao wondered whether to continue playing the nephew.

He did have two nephews, the younger a university student, not much different in age from his current self. Though they didn’t look much alike, the neighbors here wouldn’t know that.

Sheng Yao looked at Yue.

Yue carried Darling to the pool. The dog, true to its name, behaved quietly, wagging its tail and panting as it gazed at Yue, its mouth shaped in a canine smile.

Splash!

Yue turned on the faucet and began washing the dog.

Remembering Liu Yu’s escape from the Monster Clinic last night, Sheng Yao said, “My uncle asked me to inquire. He visited the Monster Clinic.”

Yue turned, delighted. “Really? I was just there a few days ago! I told the doctor to take good care of your uncle. He said your uncle was undergoing treatment. It’s curious… usually he’ll fix people up with a bit of medicine… Oh, that’s for injuries. I only go there for injuries. Your uncle’s is a mental illness, isn’t it? Maybe that’s different.” He sighed, rare worry showing on his face.

Sheng Yao’s heart skipped. “How did you meet the doctor?”

Yue smiled, rubbing the dog’s head. “Because of him!”

The dog barked, tail wagging, sending water everywhere.

Yue laughed, rubbing the dog’s head harder. “Darling, you remember, don’t you? That doctor saved you, right?”

The dog, previously lively, suddenly grew subdued, tail drooping between its legs, large dark eyes rolling upward to gaze at Yue, whimpering in plea.

Yue kept smiling, stroking the dog’s back. “He remembers, and he’s a bit scared.”

“The doctor saved… this dog?” Sheng Yao was astonished.

He knew the doctor didn’t turn away patients, but didn’t expect he’d be so indiscriminate.

Yue sighed. “Yes. Late one night, after closing, I saw something lying in the middle of the road. Closer, I realized it was a dog, likely hit by a car, bleeding heavily, barely alive. I picked him up and ran, but couldn’t find a car. The nearest pet hospital is four bus stops away, too far to make it in time. I thought, since the pet shop was closer, I’d bring him in for emergency bandaging, then find a bike or call for a ride to the hospital. On the way, I saw the Monster Clinic.”

Yue smiled as he petted the dog. “The clinic must’ve just opened that day—I hadn’t seen it that morning, but it was open that night.”

“You just went in?” Sheng Yao realized this was not as he’d imagined.

Yue nodded. “I thought any clinic would have bandages, medicine, sutures. I actually graduated in veterinary medicine, but I’m clumsy, not very skilled.” He scratched his head, wetting his hair with damp fingers.

“How did the doctor save him?” Sheng Yao asked.

Yue chuckled. “I don’t know. I burst in, shouting for a doctor or nurse. The doctor came out, seemed startled by me. I rambled on, he didn’t respond. I was about to grab bandages and suture myself, but he took Darling from my arms.” He turned off the faucet, massaged shampoo into the dog’s coat. “Darling was barely responsive, I thought he wouldn’t make it. But his eyes were still open, he was whimpering… The doctor carried him into a room, closed the door. I don’t know what medicine he used… maybe just the usual stuff I use. Many pet medications aren’t so different from people’s, just the dosage varies.”

“And then he was cured?” Sheng Yao watched the dog.

Yue’s voice rose, joyful. “Yes! After a short wait, the door opened and Darling came running out. He was so good, just sat at my feet, not fussing.”

Sheng Yao stared at the dog. Since Yue mentioned the doctor, it had wilted, as if frightened.

It reminded Sheng Yao of Liu Yu. Did Liu Yu look like this during treatment? Perhaps he still did.

Yue, by contrast, seemed wholly unafraid.

Was it a matter of temperament?

Suddenly, a thought crossed Sheng Yao’s mind. “This happened last year, didn’t it?”

He recalled Old Zhang got this dog last year, saying it was a stray, given free by Yue. His father-in-law had hinted at getting a dog or cat, but Sheng Yao had no interest.

“Yes. Darling was lucky, survived, and found an owner. Uncle Zhang treats him so well—he’s put on so much weight in just a few months.” Yue weighed the dog’s round belly. “I’ll have to remind Uncle Zhang not to overfeed him. Too much weight isn’t good.”

Sheng Yao barely heard these words.

His heart grew heavy.

So Yue hadn’t known the doctor long, and likely understood little about him.

The doctor had indeed revived Bai Xiao—but what price had to be paid for such resurrection? What hidden dangers lurked?

Sheng Yao’s voice was dry. “Did he charge you for medicine?”

Yue looked back, puzzled. “Of course. Though he didn’t fuss much, I paid him. He didn’t have a payment system, luckily I had cash. Now it’s easier. When I go for minor injuries, treatment comes first. I don’t think he cares much about money. Sometimes I bring him things, nothing valuable—fruit, or extra food I’ve made. He’s happy with that.”

Yue smiled. “If Uncle Sheng wants to thank him, a small gift is enough. Nothing expensive, just something heartfelt.”

Sheng Yao forced a bitter smile.

The doctor had brought Bai Xiao back to life—what could he possibly give to show “heartfelt thanks”?

…

On the screen connected to the operating table, Sheng Yao and Bai Xiao embraced, weeping. Music played, the image filtered; as the melody faded, “To be continued” appeared in the lower right.

The doctor stroked his chin, scrutinizing the work, both satisfied and dissatisfied, and with a flick of his hand, pushed open the side door, fingernails clattering noisily.

Neither room had lights or windows, darkness filling the interior. Yet compared to the narrow operating table screen, the home theater’s large projection was much brighter.

The doctor half-reclined on the sofa, fished a remote from between the cushions, pressed it toward the projector, and the paused scene resumed.

…

Liu Yu tapped at the keyboard absentmindedly, lines of code appearing on the screen. His mind was completely vacant, fingers moving only by habit. Occasionally, his left hand would falter, making both hands less coordinated—like water tumbling over rocks.

A strange sensation lingered in his left arm—not the itch from previous allergic attacks, but the feeling of insects crawling beneath his skin, trying to burrow out.

Liu Yu felt no pain, only fear.

He wanted to escape, but he’d left early last night, and this morning, after a mix-up with Yu Guangchun, his supervisor, Brother Lu, excused him from the morning meeting, giving him two hours off. Leaving again now would be impossible to justify.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap…

The keyboard issued a steady, soft clatter.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap…

Another keyboard echoed alongside Liu Yu’s, out of sync, creating a chaotic, discordant rhythm, aggravating him.

The spikes in Liu Yu’s arm emerged, exuding a cold, slippery fluid that adhered to his skin.

Uneasy, he glanced sideways—his sleeve was bulging, rising and falling like a musical fountain. The fluid seeped through the fabric, leaving blotchy stains.

Perhaps some chemical reaction occurred between the liquid and the cloth. His blue sleeve now showed an eerie ink-green.

Liu Yu held his breath, body rigid, though his fingers kept typing mechanically.

Next to him, Yu Guangchun was also typing, though intermittently, pausing for water or to consult files with the mouse. He must have spent the previous night at the office, perhaps without washing up. Liu Yu imagined a smell emanating from him, as if from his own arm.

Liu Yu’s hands stopped; his right hand covered his left arm.

Beneath the long sleeve, the strange skin protruded, ready to pierce through at any moment.

His heart skipped a beat.

“Xiao Liu, are you alright? Not feeling well again?” Yu Guangchun stopped working and asked softly.

Liu Yu hurriedly shook his head, grabbed his cup from the desk, and rushed to the break room.

Yu Guangchun seemed about to follow, but Brother Lu had business with him, stopping him.

Liu Yu watched this, relieved.

Alone in the break room, he glanced around and carefully rolled up his sleeve.

The skin on his left arm was perfectly normal; the spikes had vanished.

He couldn’t help but clutch his head, bending over in distress.

What on earth had that Monster Clinic doctor injected him with? Damn it… what was happening to him?