Chapter Text
If asked, Shen Yuan would definitely lie about having an emotional dependency on the fluffy black Pomeranian that waited anxiously at the door every day when he came home. But he would also be easily caught in said lie by anyone who heard him say this nonsense.
Shen Yuan didn't have many close friends, but anyone who even remotely knew of his existence had heard of his complete obsession with that animal—from his background photo boasting the complete cuteness of Bingpup lying on his back on the floor with a plush version of the epic Xin Mo in his mouth, to his social networks containing more photos of the puppy than his own face, or the many opportunities he never missed to mention him in every conversation.
He never had a habit of taking many personal photos, with his gallery containing only one or two occasional selfies and only during special events. In his camera folders, Bingpup was also king.
There was only one person in this world that Shen Yuan did try to hide the pure beauty of his precious Bingpup from, and that someone happened to be his best friend.
In his defense, it had been a good few years since he had adopted the puppy, and Shen Yuan hadn't considered at the time the consequences of naming his new son as the protagonist of the most disastrous novel he had ever read in his life. Proud Immortal Demon Way was a big bag of shit, full of dumb characters, plot holes everywhere in the script and problem resolutions that didn't make the slightest sense; but even he had trouble pretending that the protagonist's charm didn't get to him too.
(Outside he could still dodge the question and change the subject, but his room secretly filled with merch from the fascinating Luo Binghe revealed the truth a little too much).
And Shen Yuan never expected that the idiot he met by complete chance in the college canteen, and who quickly became his friend (so quickly that he could no longer remember how he was able to let this absurdity happen) would be the much-hated Airplane-bro. The creator of his biggest nightmare, the one who terrorized his dreams and made him boil with hatred at least once a week—following him side by side to class every day. Like a friend!!!!
Some nights he still found it hard to absorb the reality of the irony that fate had brought him: the one who, for years, he had most considered his enemy, was now putting up with all his long-winded rants, keeping all his secrets and never letting him down, always by his side, dealing with all his worst sides every day. The years had given this friendship a little more meaning—no one in the world was more used to dealing with his anger than the very target of his giant hateful comments. And no one could give Shang Qinghua better opinions than the one who had studied the world he created the most, whether for good or bad reasons.
(Of course, his original name wasn't Shang Qinghua either, but Shen Yuan obviously got a kick out of calling him by the disgraced traitor's name, a change he made as soon as he found out who he really was, using the name of one of his 'sons' that he detested. The threat of calling him Airplane in the street was met with another threat of being called Cucumber, and Shen still had a reputation to uphold).
But no matter how strong their friendship has become over the years, it was still extremely embarrassing when a mutual friend found them together in one of the computer rooms and filled her mouth to ask, “How's your Binghe? He was sick last week, wasn't he?”
Perhaps if she'd used his real name, Shen Yuan might have tried to disguise it as something else, but of course MingYan would use that name—she'd understood immediately why he'd named his Pomeranian that from the very first time she'd heard the nickname!
The damned Airplane made fun of him to this day, how could he not! The one who most said he hated his work had named his own little dog as the protagonist, his most beloved son—yet another victim of Luo Binghe's glorious halo.
The elevator doors closed as Shen Yuan grumbled, leaning against one of the metal walls. That old story repeated itself in his mind as he read and re-read his friend's messages asking when he would meet his Bingpup, and why Shen Yuan was so jealous of him that he never even let him visit his apartment.
(He wouldn't admit that the real problem was Shang seeing all the PIDW posters on his wall, that would be his real death).
Shen Yuan blocked his phone screen, deciding that he would answer it later, and put it back in his backpack. Perhaps the lack of an immediate response would make him stop procrastinating and find something actually useful to do.
A low tinkle indicated that he had reached his expected floor, and with calm steps he stepped out of the elevator. The walk to his apartment was silent, but as he neared the door he could already hear signs of the presence he loved most in his life.
Agitated footsteps approached the door as he turned the key in the lock, pausing for a few seconds in an interminable wait. Shen knew exactly what kind of image awaited him before he even opened the door.
The first bark came only when the puppy's dark eyes were able to see him again; a low bark as if he couldn't believe that his master was there again. Stories that Shen created in his own head or real facts, he didn't know; but the way he always looked at him seemed to be surprised that Shen never wanted to abandon him as happened before with his previous owner.
Then Bingpup went into a whirlwind of emotions in the next second, spinning tirelessly in the same place, barking several times a second and waiting for Shen to finish closing the door and looking back at him to run to his owner, snuggling into his legs covered by his dark jeans.
Shen Yuan smiled, bending down to reach the height of the little one who loved him so much. He tossed his backpack and shoes aside absent-mindedly, and immediately reached out his arms to embrace the puppy, who missed him so much.
“I'm home.”
Perhaps he was hallucinating, but his big, bright eyes seemed to smile as he looked at him, as if absorbing the image of the God of his world. Bingpup barked a few more times, wagging his tail with impressive speed, and only calmed down a little when Shen Yuan pulled him out of his embrace and returned to standing.
With his eyes still fixed on the puppy, he picked up his backpack from the floor and began to walk into the apartment, smiling when he saw the way Bingpup was still following him like a shadow, full of expectation with every little step he took.
“How was your day, huh? Was it good, did you get much sleep?” Shen Yuan asked as if the puppy could answer him, and perhaps he could from the way he barked back immediately after the question, trying to make Shen understand him. He also seemed excited as he tried to answer, circling three times in the same place immediately afterwards, his tongue sticking out as he looked at him excitedly.
A laugh couldn't help but escape his throat when he saw that little black ball of pure energy. He inevitably crouched down and stroked the raised ears one more time before dropping his backpack on the sofa and starting his trek to the kitchen in search of scraps of food to satisfy the endless hunger that was already eating him up inside.
“How come you're still so energetic at this time of night, boy? What's the matter with you? Is it because I've been out all day?”
Night—because on that particular day, Shen Yuan lost track of time studying in the college's huge library, waking up from his trance only when an alarm went off at 6pm (specifically the time when the rank matches of one of the games he was addicted to opened). That was the sacred hour of his day, the moment when he left the whole universe behind and went to spend a few hours cursing all the players in the world for damaging his rank. After all, he was always at home when evening came; and it was because of this that he was startled to see the time—what the hell was he still doing there? And how could lonely Bingpup be waiting for him, thinking that he'd never come back, that he'd been abandoned!
The truth was that Shen Yuan didn't have much love for his own course, but if he failed the exams whose dates on the calendar were already threatening him, it would definitely become an annoying subject at the next family dinner; no matter how much they loved him, he would hear a lot.
The way he was raised had accustomed him to not putting much effort into his duties, he wouldn't be the face who inherited the family business, and his position as third son offered him the luxury of just relying on the money that fell into his account without any effort on his part. However, a few years ago a small economic crisis hit the business and it turned out to be worse than expected for his parents. The problem itself wasn't difficult to solve, a mere fixable accident, but fear had already settled in their hearts—“what if the worst happened in the future and, in the worst case scenario, Shen Yuan could no longer live off the easy wealth they had provided him with?”
And, of course, as a consequence, he was forced to choose a college and study to secure his own future, a cruel fate that he never expected would fall on him. Sigh.
In the end, the classes weren't too bad, as he had deliberately chosen a course that was close to some of his hobbies, so some of the things he learned ended up being useful in his day-to-day life as a semi-otaku. This was the motivation he clung to so that he didn't end up freaking out as he absorbed the absurd amount of new information he was forced to study every day. After all, even though it was sometimes interesting, it was still extremely exhausting and he still found it difficult to genuinely imagine himself working with all that in the near future. A sad future, he would say.
But his hands were tied, and he feared that his allowance would be cut off that month if his grades weren't satisfactory—and the books he'd been waiting for literal months were about to be released, so he couldn't risk missing out on the limited collector's edition.
He could only hope that his rare effort would pay off the following week.
Shen Yuan let out a long, tired sigh at the thought of what lay ahead, but then something new appeared in his field of vision to occupy his mind. Entering the kitchen, the first thing he saw, even before the unopened pizza box left over from the night before, was Bingpup's little bowl of food.
The bowl that had been hastily filled that morning when he'd left late for class and hadn't even been able to say a proper goodbye to his son, the same one that he'd never seen Bingpup eat and which, even so late at night, still looked exactly the same as he'd left it.
His puzzled gaze wandered between the puppy, who was still panting happily while completely ignoring the problem, and the untouched bowl. Bingpup, are you on a diet now? What happened????? You're beautiful just the way you are, my love, don't get me started on this!!!
But Shen didn't say any of those words, instead he walked over to the little bowl and crouched down next to it, knowing that Bingpup would follow him there without a second thought.
He stroked the dog's soft fur and had a sad look on his face when he spoke.”You haven't eaten till this hour? Is the food no longer to your liking?”
Bingpup barked happily and ate some of the food left for him, as if acting only on command. Then, still bursting with happiness, he circled Shen Yuan three times before returning to his bowl to eat some more.
“Don't tell me you were waiting for me to eat, Binbin.”
But a little bark, as if to say YES!!!
So…
Had he really spoiled his Bingpup so much that the puppy was so dependent on him??? How could he have managed to ruin even something as simple as raising a pet?
Don't trust me so much, Binbin, your father is an irresponsible man!
[...]
Shen had already read the same sentence at least 15 times. Again and again, he tried to rest his eyes and read once more, over and over again, and still his brain couldn't absorb any word typed on the illuminated screen, the letters jumbling together like a strange anagram.
That very afternoon a new chapter had been released in Zhongdian, a critical moment in one of his favorite webnovels, and yet he didn't have the mind or motivation to appreciate what should have been the best moment of his day; the reward for all his hard work on the rare days he used his energy for something productive!
Every paragraph of long academic texts was absorbed thinking about what he would read when he got home in the evening, every summary and every note and he wondered if the protagonist would finally be able to free himself from the prison he had been put in. All the times he thought that academic books alone weren't enough and he also started researching recent articles on the Internet—and, my God, is he going to make his way among the terrible monster made of pure cosmic dust that has practically no weaknesses? How will he find its weaknesses? He must have some plan for at least a careful escape! And the worst part isn't even the escape or the fight, but how he'll manage not to die when the Colors haven't even been born yet, embedded in the earth absorbing everything around him, absorbing all his vital energy while he changed into something grotesque and putrid???
And yet, his so-called reward didn't seem all that exciting anymore. Not when the consequence of his efforts had been so disastrous, and he couldn't stop thinking about Bingpup, the real victim of his terrible life choice.
What he had done wrong and how he could fix his mistake—if he even had a way of fixing the gigantic mess he had been capable of making.
Shen was about to re-read the open paragraph in front of him for the sixteenth time when something caught his attention: the sound of a call. (A call he answered so quickly, so instinctively that he wasn't proud of it.)
“Is my favorite reader cheating on me and reading TCOOS?” The annoying voice immediately went on the attack.
“Fuck you Qinghua, at least this novel knows how to close plot holes, unlike that piece of crap of yours.”
A laugh erupted in his ears before he could even finish speaking, taking him by surprise and making him even angrier than he already was. It was amazing how quickly Airplane Man could get him down. Not even 40 seconds into the call!!!!
“What the hell are you fucking laughing at, asshole?”
“Does this novel fill the plot holes? Ah Yuan, you've got to be lying to me! I read it too, you ass, there's no point pretending it was any good.”
“Huh-HUH?!”
“Did you really like what he did...? The author totally ignored how OP the Colors Out of Space is and didn't know how to end it. Since when absorbing the plant is enough to scare them off, it would have been safer to go the route of escaping discreetly rather than tackling it head on. He still tried to use the excuse of love to justify his wife removing the effects of the plant with a hu—
“HUH?! HE DID WHAT?”
There was a silence on the VC, so quiet that you could clearly hear Shen Yuan's angry snorts.
“Dude... haven't you read it yet...?” Silence was the answer he didn't really get. “I can’t believe it, didn't you say you were going to read it straight away...?”
“I was fucking trying!” And once again he was interrupted by a horrendous laugh in his ears, which he very much considered simply silencing or abandoning the call. There really was a limit to how much he could handle his best friend.
Finally, he just slammed his hands down on the table to vent his anger—and looked away in awe, remembering that his Bingpup was asleep in his bed nearby, all curled up in an incredibly fluffy ball of fur, but by some kind of miracle he was still as quiet as before, his cute little belly (now full of food) rising and falling with a gentle rhythm.
He sighed, relieved.
Then, in a lower voice, he finally answered.
“Fuck you, this shit was the only good thing to happen in my day and now I can't even look forward to it. I hope with all my heart that Muxuan dies in the next chapter.”
“My Muxuan??? Not at all, go get someone else!”
Shang complained, but didn't insist for long. He was used to his friend wishing he'd lose all his favorite characters, partly out of sheer spite for Yuan, partly because he'd never gotten over Qingge's ridiculous disposal in PIDW.
There was a soft sound at the call, and Shen Yuan could clearly imagine his friend throwing himself on his own bed, all sprawled out like some potato shit in the dirt.
“I thought your Binghe was the only good thing you see in your days. You know, the dog named after my son that you never introduced to me.”
The curse was on the tip of Shen Yuan's tongue, but then he felt his heart heavy with worry. There were few things in the world more important to him than an opportunity to swear at his friend, but Bingpup was one of them.
So he sighed.
“If I tell you something, will you promise not to laugh or make fun of me?”
“Huh?” Shang sounded confused for a second, not used to the serious tone in Shen's voice, but then there was more rustling of sheets as he also adopted a serious tone. “What—Like, of course. Did something happen?”
Shen Yuan looked once at the Pomeranian, his eyebrows sad and his face uncertain.
“He hasn't eaten all day. I couldn't read the chapter of the novel because I kept thinking about him. I’m fucking worried, man.”
“I'm not sure I understand, what exactly happened?”
“I was out all day studying, but I left his food ready for him to eat during the day. But the bowl was the same way I left in the morning, I think he was waiting for me to eat.”
“Dude…” For a few seconds there was no response, as if the information was very slowly entering Shang's brain. “He's so... devoted...?”
“Is that what you have to say?!”
“No man, like, how the hell did you even manage to do that? You spoiled him this much?!”
“Fuck, I didn't mean to, shit, but—” Shen then realized that he had once again raised his voice in anger, and again took a deep breath before continuing, now calmer, almost whispering. Something fired him up so that the words began to run over each other. “I didn't want to do that, but I didn't want to leave him alone either, he seemed lonely when I adopted him and he cries when I'm away for too long or if I stay in rooms far from him or if I take too long in the bath, what am I supposed to do, leave him sad and alone for the rest of his life?!”
…
…………
“Bro... I know a good vet, do you want his contact info?”
“My vet is already good, thanks. And my Bingpup isn't sick, he's just lonely!”
“Oh right, when I find a dog psychologist I'll send you the contact—Seriously, Shen, take him to the clinic now! Not yours, that guy didn't even find a very obvious infection that he caught.”
“It only happened once!”
[...]
A few minutes turned into hours of conversation that he didn't see on the clock. Conversations that went from Shen Yuan trying to convince his friend that his puppy wasn't in such a tragic state as to make an appointment, to new episodes of an anime they loved and Shang making him stream the screen so they could watch the new release together.
The city streets were already so quiet that all the sounds of the world echoed much more easily when he finally turned off the VC and removed his headset. A quick glance at the clock on the table confirmed that it was already almost two o'clock in the morning.
Shen Yuan dragged the chair back slowly like a little turtle, still not wanting to disturb the incredible dreams that his Bingpup might be having with his hypothetical harem of cute little dogs-wives just like him, and tiptoed out of the room.
With no distractions and a cold water running down his throat, his mind went back to thinking. He didn't want to admit it, but maybe Shang was right, and he was being childish about it.
Perhaps he was afraid of taking Bingpup to his usual vet and hear that there was nothing wrong with him, consequently repeating the weeks of sheer anguish when he discovered that there wasn’t any he’s all good with Bingpup, and having to watch him suffer again while he failed to find a solution to his pain.
Perhaps he was afraid of taking him to the new vet and finding out that everything was wrong with his Bingpup. That he had been a bad owner, that he had taught him bad habits and that there was no cure for the fear of abandonment that his puppy had developed through his own fear of leaving him alone.
He would blame himself for the rest of his life if that were the case.
Shen Yuan returned the glass to its place on the shelves and turned on his heels to return to his room. It was getting late, and he should definitely rest for the rest of the day, put his worries aside and think more logically when morning finally came.
A Saturday morning, with no predetermined wake-up time. It was exactly what he needed to decide what to do.
But perhaps it was because his mind was still turbulent with worries, perhaps it was the lights out in the room lit only by the moon outside or his own messy positioning of the furniture—he didn't know. Whatever the culprit, the ending was still the same, and Shen Yuan didn't notice the table so centrally located in the kitchen when he screwed his foot into the wooden board, causing a thud to echo throughout the apartment as his body hit the hard floor.
The thud was so loud, but his mind didn't even process the sound of the fall as it immediately became clouded with pain; the elbow that hit the floor, the hand that fell on his face, the knees that simply collapsed.
Shen didn't move for a few seconds. Firstly because he was wondering how one day could have gone so wrong, secondly because a part of him didn't want to move and discover that he would have to clean wounds at that hour of the morning. Thirdly, because it was almost immediate when he heard scurrying paws approaching.
And then an idea crossed his mind. Something so ingenious, yet so agile in his mind that he didn't even have time to decide if it was a good idea before putting the plan into action.
Shen Yuan remained motionless when Bingpup finally reached the kitchen. He ran from side to side, touched him, the barks echoing in his ears, sometimes farther away, often too close. He spun around several times in the same spot and tried to push him a few more times. And Shen Yuan didn't move.
Bingpup, you can't depend on me so much, what the hell would you do alone in this cruel world if I disappeared one day, huh?!
A few more barks erupted nearby, louder and louder, more and more desperate. But his paws weren't enough to lift his owner off the ground, put him in a safer place and tend to his wounds. His voice was unintelligible to the neighbors when he begged for help.
You need to be strong on your own, kid, I'm a lousy father, Bingpup. Words so sincere in his heart, he would only realize when the sun rose again that he should never trust his own mind in the wee hours of the morning.
Shen Yuan didn't plan to do this for long, he just wanted to analyze how the Pomeranian would react if something happened to him, and was about to get up when silence suddenly startled him.
Momentarily ignoring his own pain through despair, he raised his head with agility, only to find Bingpup lying right next to him, as if asleep—too quiet, too still.
"Binbin? Binbin?!"
Shen Yuan's heart raced, fear eating away at his bones and chilling his skin. He took the dog into his arms in complete desperation, trying to recognize his breathing patterns and whether he was still alive.
“Binghe! Hey—I'm here, please wake up, please???”
But there was no answer, and his hands were shaking enough that he couldn't recognize the dog's heartbeat. He heard and felt only his own, so strong inside his own chest that he felt he could throw up his heart at any moment.
Like a flash of memory, he didn't notice how he reached for his phone in the bedroom, his voice trembling with fear and embarrassed, begging for an answer:
“The vet you mentioned also works in emergencies?!”