Raising My Sweet, Well-Behaved Puppy-Snake to Be My Wife - Chapter 9

Regardless of the circumstances, the anniversary of Shen Zhiheng’s grandmother’s passing had to be observed every year. Shen Zhiheng did not understand the persistence of outsiders like Uncle Wang and Lin Ze. Even his grandmother’s own children did not care, and none of the other relatives in the Shen family cared, so why must this formal ancestral memorial ceremony be held with such fanfare?

The designer responsible for tailoring Shen Zhiheng’s clothes held a measuring tape, carefully updating his new body measurements in preparation for cutting a new, black, high-end bespoke suit. Outside the study on the first floor, Shen Zhiqi curiously peeked through the door crack, slithering over to his brother’s side to observe the designer’s work.

Shen Zhiheng met the little snake’s curious gaze, and his tense expression relaxed slightly. “Uncle, please also tailor a few outfits for Xiao Qi. He does not have any proper clothes to wear.”

“The snake has plenty of clothes,” Shen Zhiqi countered, recalling the many outfits his brother had asked others to buy for him.

“Those are not proper clothes.” Shen Zhiheng felt that a wardrobe full of clothes was still not enough; his adorable younger brother could wear many, many more beautiful and stylish outfits.

The commotion from the living room drifted in through the door that the little snake had left ajar.

“Uncle Wang, I have told you already, the enterprise evaluation on Star A is at a critical stage; how could I possibly get away? Why must the memorial ceremony be held every year?”

Hearing his father’s voice once a year was truly a rare occurrence. Shen Zhiheng looked down at the floor, his previously happy mood—instigated by seeing the little snake—completely disrupted. In truth, his father had not returned for many years; although it was said to be held annually, he had never actually attended once.

Outside, Uncle Wang and Lin Ze listened to the voice on speakerphone, completely unaware that the door nearby was open. Every year, it was their routine to call Shen’s father, and every year, they were scolded just like this. The voice on the other end continued to nag, speaking rapidly and interspersed with English that Shen Zhiheng did not like at all.

He smiled self-deprecatingly, suddenly feeling that he was not all that pathetic. After all, if his father did not even care about his own mother, how could he possibly care about his son? Shen Zhiheng felt a wave of nausea; a sense of disgust, mixed with exhaustion and numbness, welled up in his heart, and his limbs gradually grew cold.

He let out a long, heavy sigh and silently closed his eyes, attempting to calm his emotions. Beside him, the little fellow tilted his head, looking at his brother, who had his eyes closed, and then looked around in confusion.

Shen Zhiqi could not understand what the humans outside were yelling about. His small brain processed language slower than a human’s to begin with, and he was being forced to listen to a foreign language that the snake did not understand at all. He frowned, flicked his forked little tongue, and looked up at the big brother he relied on most. He saw that Shen Zhiheng had closed his eyes.

Shen Zhiqi blinked and followed suit, closing his eyes just like his brother. The chatter of the humans gradually became very distant, eventually fading into inaudibility. So, when you cannot understand what people are saying, closing your eyes makes you very comfortable! Brother is amazing; Brother knows everything!

Shen Zhiqi not only closed his eyes but also slowed his breathing. The entire snake relaxed, turning soft and limp. Before long, he curled up, his upper body resting on his own snake tail.

The noise outside ceased; Uncle Wang and Lin Ze went back to busy themselves with the ancestral memorial preparations. Only then did Shen Zhiheng open his eyes and sigh heavily. He felt his instep being pressed by something, and upon looking down, he saw the little snake curled into a large, ink-green ball.

“?” The gloom in Shen Zhiheng’s eyes was replaced by a screen full of question marks.

The designer stood before him, at a loss, not knowing whether it was better to wake the little young master who was sleeping so soundly or to let him continue his slumber.

“I am sorry to trouble you to come again tomorrow,” Shen Zhiheng said, picking up the ball of snake on the floor and holding him in his arms. His movements were quite broad, yet they failed to disturb the sleepy little snake in the slightest.

“You are too kind, young master,” the designer said respectfully, beginning to pack his tools. He glanced at the little fellow sleeping with such serenity in Shen Zhiheng’s arms and could not help but laugh. “The little young master’s sleep quality is truly enviable.”

“He is indeed very sleepy. I have checked; snakes are low-energy animals by nature and need to sleep eighteen hours a day.” Shen Zhiheng cradled the little snake, one strong arm supporting him steadily while the other rhythmically patted his shoulder, lulling the little one to sleep. “I do not know if Xiao Qi, who sleeps ten hours a day now, counts as staying up late among snakes.”

“Indeed. Young master, you picked him up and did not even wake him. He can fall into a deep sleep anytime, anywhere.”

Shen Zhiheng was more than happy to chat with people about his little snake; his mood was like someone showing off a treasured possession. After chatting with the designer for a few more moments, he carried the little snake back to the first-floor bedroom to sleep.

After the little snake had slept for a very, very long time and was finally woken by his own hunger, he sat on the bed in a daze, as if still groggy from sleep, trying to recall what had happened before he drifted off.

“Awake?”

Shen Zhiqi turned toward his brother’s voice and nodded blankly.

“Go to the study in a moment to have your clothes sized. Our lazy little snake slept for a whole day. How is it that you can fall asleep so easily by Brother’s side?”

Shen Zhiqi crawled out of the sunken bed, his thick tail hanging over the edge.

“I was clearly learning from Brother.”

“Why learning from me?”

“When you cannot understand what people are saying, closing your eyes makes you very comfortable.” The little snake shook his head sagely, appearing as if he were explaining a profound truth.

Shen Zhiheng listened, frowning for a moment. “That is just falling asleep, isn’t it?”

“…”

A brief silence descended upon the room. Shen Zhiqi’s previously calm and collected demeanor vanished bit by bit, his little brain seemingly turning slowly as he finally processed the logic. It seems… I really did fall asleep…

But the little snake, in his self-awareness, could never admit that he was a “lazy snake” who fell asleep anytime and anywhere. He had just guiltily bent his waist, but now he straightened his back again, placed his hands on his waist, and defiantly flicked his pink little tongue.

“No, this is what Brother taught me.”

The haughty little snake lifted his chin and puffed out his chest, like a proud puppy trying to show off its round, puffed-out chest. Shen Zhiheng finally could not hold it in anymore; a soft chuckle rang out clearly in the quiet room.

“Alright, alright, it was all taught by Brother. Brother taught the little snake that if you do not want to listen to people talk, just close your eyes.” Shen Zhiheng ruffled the little snake’s messy hair and continued, “If you are awake, it is time to measure for your clothes. Uncle has been waiting for you in the study for a long time.”

“Mm!” Shen Zhiqi’s long tail rolled off the edge of the bed, and he slithered along behind his brother.

After the designer finished measuring the little snake and sent a copy of the data to Shen Zhiheng, he remarked, “Our little snake has finally grown a bit of meat.”

Shen Zhiheng looked at the data, quite satisfied with the effectiveness of his child-rearing. It was plain to see that Shen Zhiqi’s body was much, much better than when they had first met; his face, which had been so gaunt that it was nearly concave, had grown a little bit of flesh.

“Snake has been eating well,” Shen Zhiqi said, hands on his waist, head held high, speaking proudly. Having no worries about food or clothing, the little snake would, of course, grow up very well.

On the day of the memorial, many other people would come to the manor—some were friends and relatives of Shen Zhiheng’s grandmother, and others were relatives of the Shen family who had flown back from the distant Star A. Naturally, Shen Zhiheng’s father did not come.

Shen Zhiheng calculated the time; the little snake usually slept until noon before waking up. By that time, the memorial would be over. Just in case, he planned to lock the bedroom door to prevent the little snake from having a chance to meet this group of people.

In the morning, Shen Zhiheng got up early, dressed, and left the villa, making sure to lock the little snake’s bedroom door. However, the moment he left, little Shen Zhiqi in the bedroom opened his eyes to the sound of an alarm clock.

The little snake had never gotten up so early and was in a foul morning mood. Through his sleepiness, he raised his big tail and whacked the electronic alarm clock on the nightstand. After successfully silencing the first alarm, the little snake hummed with satisfaction, rolled over, and fell back asleep, sinking into the soft quilt with his fat tail still hanging off the bed.

Finally, after the second, third, and fourth alarms rang, Shen Zhiqi sat up in bed with his messy bird’s-nest hair. He sat there blankly for a moment, and as his attention gradually returned, his pupils snapped from slits into solid circles. He remembered why he had set the alarm! Today was the day Brother was going to the mountain behind the manor to visit Grandmother!

Shen Zhiqi quickly slid out of bed, scrambled to wash up, and smoothed down his messy short hair in front of the mirror. He slithered over to the desk, found the drawing paper tucked under his books, and carefully smoothed it out. Brother said that Grandmother, who lived in the mountains behind, liked his drawings. The brushstrokes on the paper were still childish, depicting a thick snake painted with an ink-green marker. Although Shen Zhiqi had followed a reference picture online stroke by stroke, the final result still looked like a long piece of garlic sprout.

Shen Zhiqi’s thought process was very simple. He understood the taste of loneliness the best; if Grandmother, who lived in the mountains, liked liveliness and liked little snakes, then he would use the drawing to represent a little snake accompanying Grandmother! He must not let Grandmother’s affection down; all humans in this world who liked little snakes were extraordinarily kind humans!

Dragging his big tail, Shen Zhiqi arrived at the door, used his tail to prop himself up higher, and reached out to turn the doorknob. The lock made a click-click sound, but it was locked from the outside and would not open. Shen Zhiqi tilted his head, looking suspiciously at the “broken” door lock. He did not think too much about it, though, as right next to it was the large bedroom window on the first floor, which connected to the small garden outside and was very easy to exit.

The little snake, who had plenty of “jailbreak” experience, would not be trapped. He pried open the window with force, braced himself against the wall to stand taller, and a section of milky-white ventral scales was exposed. Like a slippery loach, the entire snake slid out through the window. Once outside the villa area, Shen Zhiqi realized he had almost no sense of direction and had no idea which way to go. He had no choice but to hug the wall and crawl along, trying his best to follow the direction in his memory.