Feeling the tense body beneath his palms gradually relax, Qin Suixi continued his motions.
Not shedding in winter, just freshly bathed—the combination made the fox simply irresistible.
He couldn’t help but feel a bit curious. Was it just as warm and harmonious when the fox stayed with his father at the Qin family villa?
Thinking of this, Qin Suixi felt a slight unease. He looked at the fluffy, smooth fur on the fox’s back, which had once been stroked by another pair of hands. Even if that person was his father, Qin Suixi still felt somewhat annoyed.
He looked again at the half-drooping tail. Every time he came home, the fox would wag its tail in welcome. The mere thought that this tail had once wagged for others…
If he had known, he wouldn’t have moved out just for the sake of convenience.
The pressure on his hand suddenly increased, and Ning Qi’an let out a soft huff. Qin Suixi’s wandering thoughts snapped back.
I’ve really got some issues, he thought. People really do love to let their imaginations run wild when they have too much free time.
He loosely held that tail, and suddenly, it twitched unconsciously. The soft fur gently brushed against his palm, bringing a slight tingling itch.
Within a few minutes, the fox was fast asleep in his arms.
Qin Suixi’s heart softened. He touched the fox’s brow, set a ten o’clock alarm on his phone, and leaned against the sofa to watch TV, accompanied by the narration of the news.
Before long, two steady rhythms of breathing echoed in the living room.
Ning Qi’an: Zzz Qin Suixi: Zzz
There was no helping it; the news commentary was far too hypnotic for them.
The ten o’clock alarm woke them both up. Qin Suixi raised his hand to turn off the alarm, covered his eyes for a few minutes to adjust, then lowered his head to nudge the bleary-eyed fox. “Go back to your bed and sleep.”
Hearing this, the fox struggled to climb up, walked over unsteadily, collapsed into his bed, and fell into a deep sleep. Within seconds, the steady, rhythmic breathing started again.
Qin Suixi muttered, “You’re such a good sleeper.”
The news on TV had already jumped from some school to some factory. Qin Suixi turned off the TV with one click. Without the hypnotic commentary, he felt a bit more energetic.
He took one last look at the fox, and with a “click,” the living room plunged into darkness.
Just like last time, he didn’t close the door all the way, leaving a crack. But since the fox was already asleep, he didn’t enter the room for the rest of the night.
Early the next morning, while Ning Qi’an was still hovering between dream and reality, he was dressed in a newly purchased small yellow vest by the energetic Qin Suixi.
“Let’s go, we’re going out for a walk.”
Even in the middle of winter, Qin Suixi was wearing thin black-and-white sportswear. He picked up the still-confused Ning Qi’an, walked toward the door, and said, “You shouldn’t be too tired since you just arrived. We’ll run two kilometers today.”
Upon hearing that number, Ning Qi’an cast aside the boundary between dream and reality, instantly alert, staring at Qin Suixi in disbelief.
Who in their right mind goes for a two-kilometer run in the winter morning?
Ning Qi’an declared that without breakfast, he had no motivation.
He aimed for the sofa, preparing to leap down, but was scooped back up by Qin Suixi in mid-air.
Qin Suixi said, “Aren’t canines supposed to be great runners?”
Ning Qi’an rolled his eyes: Being able to run and wanting to run are two different things.
At the very least, he didn’t want to move right now; he just wanted to sleep in and wait for breakfast.
Qin Suixi flicked his nose. “Playing cute won’t work. You have to come with me today.”
Ning Qi’an: …
I struggle every day with this communication barrier between species.
Want to run, huh? Whoever runs the slowest doesn’t get to eat.
Ning Qi’an stood on the path, the breeze rustling the fallen leaves on the ground. As Qin Suixi finished his warm-up and started jogging, Ning Qi’an shot forward like a fish leaping into a river.
Since you dragged me out to run in the morning, I’ll show you who’s the king here.
Ning Qi’an sprinted a few steps with dashing style, leaving Qin Suixi behind. Just as he was leading by more than a meter, a massive pulling force suddenly manifested on his back, abruptly stopping him in his tracks.
Ning Qi’an: ???
He looked back and saw a white leash extending from his back all the way to Qin Suixi’s hand.
Ning Qi’an: …
I forgot my freedom is under Qin Suixi’s control.
Ning Qi’an resigned himself to following the man’s pace. But two legs and four legs were destined not to be on the same frequency. Qin Suixi’s “perfect speed” was a fast walk or a light trot for Ning Qi’an. With the speed constantly changing, it wasn’t long before Ning Qi’an was panting with his tongue hanging out.
When they finally finished the target distance Qin Suixi had set, Ning Qi’an collapsed on the ground, refusing to budge another inch.
Qin Suixi unscrewed his mineral water bottle and drank half of it. Squinting at Ning Qi’an panting, he crouched down and slowly poured the remaining half into his palm.
Parched, Ning Qi’an didn’t care about the hygiene of sharing, and lowered his head to lick the small puddle of water.
His soft, pink tongue lapped away the coolness in Qin Suixi’s palm. The lingering dampness and the tingling itch of the tongue licking his skin surged straight into his heart. The sincere, straightforward intimacy and reliance were sprayed out with the hot breath, but before he could process it, the air whisked it away.
Soon, there wasn’t much water left in the bottle. Qin Suixi stared blankly at his palm, which was glistening, unable to tell if it was water or the fox’s saliva.
Qin Suixi felt he should be repulsed, so he used the last of the water to wash his hands. There was no trash can nearby, so he gripped the water bottle in one hand and held the leash with the other.
Looking at the fox, who was catching his breath, he said, “I knew two kilometers would be just right for you. It looks like we need to run more often to exercise your body.”
Ning Qi’an: Heh.
He turned his head away, refusing to look at the man because looking at him just annoyed him.
The route Qin Suixi planned ended near their apartment complex. On the way home, Ning Qi’an walked a few steps ahead of Qin Suixi, not looking back once, and refusing to respond even when Qin Suixi called him.
“Fox.”
Ning Qi’an pretended to look at a breakfast shop on the roadside.
“Fox.”
Ning Qi’an pretended to look at the birds on the utility pole.
“Fox!”
Ning Qi’an paused for a split second, then lowered his head to lick the snowy white fur on his chest.
Qin Suixi rubbed his forehead. Even an idiot could see the fox was giving him the cold shoulder now.
He hurried forward, picked up the fox, and said, “What are you angry about? Are you mad that I forced you to run?”
Ning Qi’an hung his head very low. It was clearly a dejected posture, yet the way he did it looked like a tantrum.
What else could I be mad about? I’m mad that you always misinterpret my intentions.
Qin Suixi couldn’t stand seeing the fox like this. He was a domineering CEO, after all. He grabbed the fox’s sharp chin with his big hand, forcing it to look him in the eye, and asked again, “What are you angry about?”
Ning Qi’an: … What? Are you expecting me to open my mouth and tell you?
Qin Suixi clearly realized it was impossible to communicate with a fox. It was just that the fox was usually so spiritual, which made him think the creature was a human with thoughts.
He pursed his lips and loosened his grip. Before he could let go, the fox whipped its head to shake off his hand.
“Sometimes I really want to know what you’re thinking,” Qin Suixi said. He smoothed the fox’s fur, deliberately massaging the paw pads with his fingers.
“Fox,” he said, remembering that the creature was always particularly happy at mealtime, “there’s a breakfast shop nearby. Their xiaolongbao (soup dumplings) are delicious. I’ll buy you some, and you can’t be mad once you’ve eaten them.”
Ning Qi’an had never eaten xiaolongbao; he had only seen them in short videos at night. They were tiny, not as big as regular steamed buns.
Ning Qi’an nodded imperceptibly. In reality, rather than being angry, he was perhaps feeling a sense of agitation—the agitation of being unable to communicate with language. But that wasn’t Qin Suixi’s fault; it was the inherent barrier between their species.
Even between humans, it is difficult to understand each other’s thoughts, let alone between a fox and a human.
Ning Qi’an rubbed against his exposed arm. His nose, aching from the cold wind, accidentally brushed against the cool skin, and he smelled the vibrant scent of sweat on the human body.
Sensing the change in Ning Qi’an’s attitude, Qin Suixi relaxed his arms slightly. “Forgave me?”
Ning Qi’an turned his head, struggling to pull his front limbs out of the restraint, his eyes darting toward the ground. After the exercise, Qin Suixi’s body felt like a large furnace, the heat of his circulating blood baking the air, and coupled with Ning Qi’an’s own thick fur, he was feeling stifled and hot. It wasn’t long before he couldn’t take it anymore.
Qin Suixi had been observing the fox, and seeing it couldn’t stay still and wanted down, he said, “If you let go, it means you’re not angry anymore.”
Ning Qi’an nodded quickly. He wasn’t angry at all now; he just wanted to escape this suffocatingly hot embrace.
With his four limbs back on the ground, Ning Qi’an shook his fur and looked back at him: Let’s go?
Qin Suixi started walking, and Ning Qi’an understood, matching his pace as they strolled home leisurely.
Along the way, Qin Suixi called out “Fox” a few times. Perhaps the fox really did understand his words and had forgiven him—this time, with every call, the fox would stop and look at him.
Can the fox really understand human speech?
Qin Suixi harbored some curiosity and tested him again: “Fox?”
Ning Qi’an paused, turned his head: …What do you want now?
Qin Suixi met that pair of eyes filled with speechlessness and said, “Will you come again tomorrow?”
Ning Qi’an pondered for a moment. He couldn’t just stay home and grow mushrooms all the time; breathing some fresh air in the morning wasn’t bad.
He nodded gently.
He saw Qin Suixi’s eyes light up. Ning Qi’an didn’t understand—wasn’t it just accompanying him for a run? Was there any reason to be this happy?
Qin Suixi’s heart hammered. The fox had actually understood his words and responded to his invitation. Fearing it might be a coincidence, he continued to ask, “Then four kilometers tomorrow?”
Ning Qi’an turned and walked away: Pushing your luck, I’m not going!
Seeing the fox didn’t respond, Qin Suixi couldn’t tell if he felt disappointed or some other emotion.
It seems it was just a coincidence. That makes sense—how could a fox understand human speech? I must still be dreaming.
The leash was pulled taut, and Ning Qi’an couldn’t move. He barked at Qin Suixi: What are you spacing out for?
He intended to tell Qin Suixi to follow, but who knew? The man looked as if he had heard something, looking left and right in disbelief. Ning Qi’an was even more confused and went over to paw at his pant leg.
Are we walking or not? I’m hungry.
Qin Suixi searched a circle but found no one, as if that sentence had just been an auditory hallucination. Yet, that voice sounded incredibly real, as if it were right next to him.
He recalled a few times before when he had heard voices—some male, some female—but they had always felt like they were behind a layer of mist, unclear. This time, however, it was much clearer.
Spacing out?
He was indeed spacing out, but there was no one around. Therefore, it was either an auditory hallucination, or there was something invisible speaking.
Qin Suixi chose to believe in science.
He exhaled a long breath, remembered the phone number of the psychiatrist his secretary, Chen, had sent him, and decided to visit during the next two days of his holiday.
The comfortable fabric of his casual pants brushed against his skin repeatedly. Qin Suixi looked down at the fox’s silent urging and said, “Sorry for the wait, let’s go.”
Actually, it hadn’t been long—only a minute or two.
Watching the fox’s back, Qin Suixi thought in a daze: Could it be the fox’s voice?
But soon, he dismissed the thought.
Must believe in science.
Ning Qi’an got his wish and had breakfast—a piece of boiled chicken breast.
It was as bland as water; even a dog wouldn’t eat it.
Then, he turned his head and saw Qin Suixi elegantly cutting it into small pieces and eating it.
Looking at his muscular physique, Ning Qi’an gave him a mental thumbs-up.
With that kind of willpower, I’m not jealous anymore.
After eating his fill, Ning Qi’an returned to his bed to sleep and bask in the sun. Seeing this, Qin Suixi subconsciously lowered his movements, put the plate into the dishwasher, and went to his room to take a shower.
After putting on clean clothes, Qin Suixi fished out a phone number and dialed it. A second later, the call connected.
“Hello, how can I help you?”
It was the kind, gentle voice of a middle-aged woman.
“Hello, is this Dr. Wang?”
“Yes,” the other side said. “May I ask your name?”
“Qin Suixi.”
The appointment with Dr. Wang was for the afternoon. After eating, Qin Suixi turned on the TV, handed the remote to Ning Qi’an, and said, “I’m going to see a doctor this afternoon. Be a good fox, watch TV, and wait for me to come back.”
See a doctor?
Ning Qi’an grabbed the keyword. He scanned Qin Suixi from head to toe—no missing limbs, his cheeks were rosy and normal, his voice was normal, and he looked perfectly fine.
What kind of illness does he have?
The Monster Bureau had said that it’s not only when one sees blood or flesh that they need to see a doctor; there are some major illnesses that are deeply hidden, showing no external problems, which even doctors find difficult to cure.