The Popular/Charismatic Beta Always Thinks They Are Universally Disliked - Chapter 63

Chapter 63: Weekend (The Dog)

The past week had been relatively calm for Wen Zhiyi. He hadn’t encountered the troubles he’d feared, and aside from the handful of exes refreshing their appearances at random times when he got home, he was quite satisfied with his life.

Chen Que had expressed his desire to continue interacting with Little Wen as a friend. He said he would always be Wen Zhiyi’s easily accessible second choice.

The tall Alpha, holding a black Doberman on a leash, sat on the steps waiting for Wen Zhiyi to get off work. He had picked up Wen Zhiyi a few times, which resulted in him taking the subway home with the latter. He found this process both enjoyable and unbearable—it was blissful to sit next to Wen Zhiyi on the subway, but the crowded, body-to-body rush hour made it intolerable.

His mysophobia would flare up at the most inconvenient times.

Wen Zhiyi worried he might release pheromones in the crowd, so he strictly forbade him from doing this.

“Don’t you have work?” Little Wen, who had opened the door and started taking off his shoes and tie, turned back with annoyance to look at Chen Que, who had shamelessly followed him in.

Chen Que was frowning, cleaning and disinfecting the dog’s paws. He squatted, holding the Doberman’s paw pad, hastily wiping away the visible dirt with a wet wipe he carried, and then looked up at Wen Zhiyi’s expression, trying to determine what answer Wen Zhiyi wanted:

“I can go to work, if Zhiyi wants me to.”

He thought for a moment and proposed a constructive solution: “I can join Zhongcheng and be Zhiyi’s assistant. I hear interns there have to pour tea and water?”

In reality, this was a feudal remnant left by a former senior partner at Zhongcheng and was once widely ridiculed in legal circles. With the partner’s resignation, this ridiculous unwritten rule was quickly abolished, and the other intern lawyers jokingly referred to the incident as “smashing the four olds.”

Wen Zhiyi tutted, raising an eyebrow in rebuttal: “How old is your news?”

He pushed past Chen Que, who was wiping the large dog’s paws, and held the Doberman’s thick, soft paw pad. He quietly sighed in his heart; truthfully, the fact that Little Wen allowed Chen Que inside owed a significant percentage to this large dog with entirely black fur and a fawn-colored muzzle.

The large dog, which had been resting listlessly with its head tilted, sensed gentle goodwill. It carefully rested its large head on Wen Zhiyi’s thigh, looking up at Little Wen from below.

Its daily care had been entrusted to specialized personnel by Chen Que. Though it lived a life of luxury, it wasn’t often affectionately stroked. Given Chen Que’s level of mysophobia, having him frequently pet a furry animal was barely less painful than cutting off his own hand.

From this angle, the Doberman’s head, from its nose to its ears, formed a narrow isosceles triangle, looking almost like a bicycle saddle that could be ridden off immediately if there was an urgent matter.

The large dog, with its glossy black coat and robust physique, quietly watched Wen Zhiyi. The two small, honey-yellow spots above its eyes furrowed seriously, letting Wen Zhiyi know that its “brows” were intently concentrating.

So well-behaved.

The damp, warm muzzle rested obediently in Wen Zhiyi’s palm. He had to admit that a puppy’s muzzle had more presence than a kitten’s mouth.

The Doberman hesitated, wanting to extend its long tongue to lick the slender, well-proportioned hand in front of it. Its canine instinct made it crave expressing its affection this way, but its excellent training allowed it to suppress the instinct. Its slightly drooping, sharp, long ears revealed its current urge to relax and roll around.

“What’s its name?” Wen Zhiyi stroked the dog’s head, finally remembering that he didn’t know the little one’s name.

Chen Que stood beside them, expressionless, his deep, dark eyes fixed on Wen Zhiyi’s movements. He said with extreme jealousy and stiffness: “Its name is Dog.”

…?

Wen Zhiyi doubted his hearing.

“Are you saying its name is Dog?” Little Wen confirmed seriously again. “So when you take it for a walk, if you call it, you literally call out ‘Dog’?”

“No,” Chen Que shook his head. His handsome, pale face appropriately showed coldness and indifference. “I don’t walk it; that’s someone else’s job.”

As for what those people named the dog, Chen Que didn’t care.

Wen Zhiyi scratched the dog’s chin, speaking to it in a coaxing tone: “You want a name, right? What should a good little dog be called?”

Chen Que sat down next to Wen Zhiyi, also extending a hand to touch the Doberman’s long muzzle. “If you name it, it won’t remember immediately, but if you give me a nickname, I will remember it instantly.”

His hand, coming from the opposite direction, gripped the Doberman’s muzzle, meeting Wen Zhiyi’s hand in a perfect circle.

This pale, slender, bony hand could easily bypass the long muzzle to touch Wen Zhiyi’s hand. He was a lifelong sculptor, and his knuckles, fingers, and palms bore shallow and deep scars. Of his entire body, only these hands least resembled those of a wealthy heir.

Wen Zhiyi withdrew his hand and glared at him.

Chen Que graciously amended: “I believe it needs a name. So, I leave it to you.”

Wen Zhiyi withdrew his gaze.

The Doberman resting on his thigh let out a small yawn. It lifted its front paw, seemingly wanting to rub its eyes as it did when it was a puppy, but then suddenly alerted its ears. Wen Zhiyi followed its gaze and saw Fat Mi gracefully leap off a cardboard box in the corner, trotting over toward them.

The fat, round Golden Tabby froze in place.

It tentatively trotted a few steps closer, leaped nimbly onto the sofa, and, after settling beside Wen Zhiyi, cautiously sized up the large monster that had appeared in its territory.

Can dogs and cats coexist peacefully?

Wen Zhiyi belatedly began to ponder this question.

“I think it can be called ‘Weekend’,” Wen Zhiyi explained. “Because everyone loves the weekend.”

If he were naming it based on the criteria that “everyone loves it,” Chen Que thought he had a better suggestion, but he didn’t voice it. He had a premonition that saying it would get him and the dog thrown out of the house by Little Wen.

The young Beta of exquisite appearance cupped the Doberman’s head, telling it: “—Weekend, you’ll be called Weekend from now on. You can definitely remember this name, good boy.”

This Doberman, which Chen Que had chosen on a whim, had undergone extremely rigorous and excellent training. It was alert, keen, yet docile and loyal. Its long, pendulous ears, bright, gentle eyes, straight, stern nose bridge, and developed, strong muscles… it was an extremely fine specimen of a purebred Doberman, and naturally, it quickly memorized its name. By the third time Wen Zhiyi said it, its tail was already consciously wagging slightly.

The Doberman’s four thick, strong legs eagerly paced back and forth. Zhuang Zhuang tentatively approached it. It seemed to recognize the little creature’s status in the house and held its breath, ceasing all movement. Its four frozen legs stood like Roman columns brought into the house.

As the sole beloved pet of the house, Fat Mi accepted the new puppy well. In its eyes, this was probably just one more attendant, after all, everyone who stepped into this home would eventually become its temporary litter-scooper.

Wen Zhiyi sighed in relief.

He felt guilty because before he found Zhuang Zhuang, he was a firm supporter of the dog religion.

He didn’t pick up and adopt Zhuang Zhuang purely out of fondness for kittens but out of compassion, wanting to prevent it from dying, wandering, or getting sick.

Of course, the haughty Mimi was unaware of this. It believed its owner was completely infatuated with it.

After petting the large dog’s head for a while, Wen Zhiyi finally remembered that he needed to start preparing for the graduate forum presentation, so he reluctantly gave the eviction notice. One person and one cat stood at the door, seeing off one person and one dog.

Chen Que stood in the hallway waiting for the elevator. He was looking expressionlessly at the electronic display when he suddenly turned to look at Wen Zhiyi, giving him a gentle smile: “If you like it, should I give Weekend to you? I’ll send people to walk it, clean up, feed it… Zhiyi only needs to play with it.”

The elevator had arrived on this floor, but Chen Que stubbornly waited for Wen Zhiyi’s reply, completely ignoring the car that came and left. The passenger inside the car was surprised by the sight of the tall Alpha standing still outside the door with a gentle smile, and then became confused.

The passenger tried to wait for Chen Que, but Chen Que maintained his smile and looked at Wen Zhiyi.

Wen Zhiyi shook his head calmly. He solemnly and seriously warned Chen Que: “Never give your little dog away. If you do, the little dog will feel like you don’t like it, and it will doubt if it’s not good enough.”

I really don’t like it, Chen Que thought, annoyed.

He only kept the dog because Wen Zhiyi had once said two years ago that he wanted a dog.

Wen Zhiyi could tell what the Alpha was thinking. He paused, then said to Chen Que, whose eyes were as black as an abyss: “—You must love it. Because you chose it, you cannot let it be sad.”

If Chen Que could give even a fraction of his attention to Wen Zhiyi to his little dog, Weekend would be the happiest dog in the world.

Chen Que nodded, slowly and gently saying, “I understand.”

After seeing off the little dog, Wen Zhiyi turned back to look at the ball of fur by his feet, genuinely missing the dog’s long muzzle for a minute.

He closed the door and began preparing the content for the late-September forum presentation.

This was work that required complete concentration, but Wen Zhiyi’s mind began to wander after only a few PPT slides.

This was due to a cardboard box Wen Zhijie had brought home.

A cardboard box filled with documents.

Wen Zhijie was indeed a good older brother. He wanted Wen Zhiyi to stay away from the old whirlpool, but he would never unilaterally hide things to make decisions for Wen Zhiyi.

He had handed the cardboard box, brought by Wu Cheng, to Wen Zhiyi, completely untouched.

The box was brought two days ago, and during this time, it had been piled in the corner. Zhuang Zhuang sometimes slept on top of it, which was normal, as creatures like cats mostly have an inexplicable preference for cardboard boxes.

Wen Zhiyi looked calmly at the cardboard box, thinking without expression.

He thought this box from Wei Yuzhi could be left for Zhuang Zhuang to use as a cat bed, but before it could become a cat bed, it first had to be emptied.