Volume One Chapter Two The Dog Running in the Void

Chapter Two: The Dog Running Through the Void

Tu Zhe was certain he wasn't seeing things—what he saw was, without a doubt, a dog. At first, the dog appeared as a milky-white dot of light, moving across the empty expanse. Initially, Tu Zhe thought it was a shooting star. But as the star revealed itself in the dark blue-black void, Tu Zhe realized he was witnessing something extraordinary. As the thing drew closer, Tu Zhe's eyes widened in astonishment.

Hmm... he had no eyes, but somehow, Tu Zhe could see—see clearly, even. Do souls have eyes? If not, where does sight come from? Could it be... spiritual perception? But there was no time to ponder these things now.

Tu Zhe had been drifting through the void for so long he was nearly mad with loneliness. At last, he’d encountered something alive. Even if it wasn’t a person, or a ghost, or a female ghost—fine, it was just a dog. But still, it was alive. Do you know what that means? No longer a butcher, no longer a murderer, now just a wandering soul, unsure of where hell or the King of the Underworld might be. Do you know what true loneliness is?

Climbing a tower and forcing out melancholy verses? Alone at the top, declaring how refreshingly cool the autumn air is? That’s not loneliness, that’s just pretentiousness.

If you were left in this boundless, directionless, soundless void for a while, you’d realize—even the sound of a fart would be as beautiful as a divine melody.

Tu Zhe was so overwhelmed he nearly wept with joy, mustering all his strength to shout, "Come here, come here, my merciful and compassionate Bodhisattva of dogs—"

What a dog it was.

It trotted out of the nothingness, the whole black-blue void its backdrop or perhaps its stage. Its four little paws moved with a light, graceful rhythm—not hurried, not slow, fluid and lively, as though the void weren’t void at all, but a stage for its dance. The paws stirred blue ripples in the emptiness, like waves on water, as if it were a divinity walking across the surface. Tu Zhe recalled the passage in Genesis: "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters."

Tu Zhe thought, perhaps it looked just like this.

In an instant, his heart overflowed with longing, affection, joy—an overwhelming urge to come close. He nearly howled with tears, "Dear dog, come here—"

But Tu Zhe’s soul could only drift, unable to move on its own. As he called out, the dog stopped, pausing a dozen yards away, and Tu Zhe finally got a good look at it.

Was the dog wearing clothes?

A dog barely a foot long, dressed in clothes. Did it belong to someone?

Tu Zhe felt his mouth go dry.

The little dog was wrapped in a peculiar garment, shimmering with a silvery-gray luster. Along its base glimmered subtle, flower-like runes—mysterious and adorable. The strange outfit covered the dog's hindquarters, from which a tail like a plume of reeds bloomed, swaying gracefully. Four little paws peeked out, with the garment ending just at the thighs.

What was this, hot pants, or should it be called a hot suit?

Tu Zhe rubbed his nose, though he wasn’t sure where his nose was anymore.

Next, his attention was caught by the dog's head and neck. Its head and exposed limbs were covered in soft, fine, slightly curly, milky-white fur—smooth and lustrous, glowing faintly. Around its neck was a band of cloth matching its suit, tied in a bow beneath the chin. Hanging from the bow was a jet-black bell, occasionally shrouded in wisps of darkness.

Its mouth was as delicate as a dewy morning rose—moist, dainty, impossibly lovely... Uh...

No, not "lovely." That word was too brazen—this dog deserved better.

Page 2 of 3

Tu Zhe didn’t see himself as lecherous, but the word "lovely" felt like a desecration of this adorable creature. He felt a pang of shame.

Let’s just say it was "beautiful beyond compare"—anything but "lovely," which was too crass and unworthy.

Thinking this, Tu Zhe felt as though he might drool, and instinctively wiped the corner of his mouth. Dammit, you're a butcher—are you really drooling over a dog this cute?

Then he noticed the dog's delicate, moist nose... "Jade nose"? Was it right to call a dog's nose that? But beauty is beauty, whether in a woman or a dog. "Jade nose" it is, and who cares if anyone objects?

So he looked into the dog’s eyes.

And when he did, Tu Zhe’s mouth fell open, and he shivered, cold and hot at once, unable to control himself.

Eyes—how could any eyes be like this?

Black gems? Gems shine, but can you see into them? These weren’t just transparent, they were pure. Even the waters of Sanya’s Yalong Bay were nothing compared to the depth and clarity of these eyes. Who has ever seen such pure water? Compared to this dog’s eyes, even the clearest spring water was nothing but bathwater.

Transparent, clear, deep, pure—without a trace of impurity. Words failed. Nothing could compare.

Who has seen transparency that illuminates the soul? Clarity that pierces the void? Depth that traverses countless universes? Purity that washes away every worldly thought, leaving you only wanting to be drawn in, to weep, to devote yourself utterly?

Tu Zhe trembled, overwhelmed by a tidal wave of emotion, feeling he would willingly die a thousand deaths for eyes like these.

"Dear dog..."

He croaked the words, as if his throat were being squeezed.

The dog gazed at him, crossed the rippling void, circled him once, then rose until its eyes were level with his. A tender voice sounded:

"What did you just call me?"

Heavens, a talking dog—a talking dog! How magical was this world? Tu Zhe nearly shook with excitement.

"De—"

The dog rolled its eyes mischievously, flicked its delicate tongue, and said,

"Do you mean you think I’m cute, or do you actually want to kiss me?"

This was no ordinary dog—this was a little demon!

"You’re very cute... uh, and yes, I’d like to kiss you, haha..."

The dog lifted its head, tilting its eyes with a distinctly human blink. "You really want to kiss me?"

Tu Zhe pinched his nose. Do people really have more expressive faces than this dog? No way—he’d never seen anyone so expressive.

So, channeling his inner dog, he replied, "If I could kiss you, what more could I wish for?"

The dog widened its eyes in surprise. "Huh, why does that sound so awkward?"

Awkward? Was this some kind of internet-savvy dog?

"Dog, have you... ever chatted on QQ?"

Page 3 of 3

The dog flicked its tongue, looking a bit guilty. It shook its little head, eyes sparkling, glancing around. "Is there any language this dog can’t speak? Hmph..."

Tu Zhe eyed the dog. "You mean... English? German? Spanish? Birdsong from Guangdong? You know them all?"

The dog looked impatient, as if it wanted to hide something. "Stop beating around the bush. Do you want to kiss me or not?" It struck a coquettish pose, its delicate nose nearly touching Tu Zhe’s illusory face.

Tsk... Who wouldn’t want to? Only a fool wouldn’t. But just as he thought this, the dog suddenly reared up, one paw on its hip, the other pointing at Tu Zhe’s nose, and shouted, "I knew you were a lecherous ghost, dreaming of such nonsense! Fine, I’ll let you kiss my little paw—ha!"

With that, the dog’s hind leg shot out, and Tu Zhe’s soul was sent flying through the void—if not a thousand miles, then a hundred at least.

Tumbling through the emptiness, Tu Zhe had barely regained his bearings when the dog appeared before him again, grinning, supporting itself on one paw as it watched him.

"Lecherous ghost, how was that?"

Tu Zhe felt as if that kick had rattled his very soul. He forced a bitter smile and sighed.

"You’re... a bit of a bratty dog, aren’t you?"

The dog shot him a glare. "Hmph, I am not bratty—I’m a very refined dog!"

Tu Zhe was laughing so hard he was nearly in tears, pointing at the dog, unable to catch his breath.

The dog, embarrassed and annoyed, stamped its paw. "Lecherous ghost, stop laughing! Laugh again and I’ll drag you off to Mount Zhujialuo... oops..."

The dog clapped a paw over its mouth, its eyes flickering with a hint of embarrassment, as if it had let something slip.

"Mount Zhujialuo? What’s that? Where is it?"

The dog glanced up and down, refusing to meet Tu Zhe’s puzzled gaze.

"Did I say Mount Zhujialuo? What’s that? Did I say anything? I didn’t say anything!"

Tu Zhe rubbed his nose, sizing the dog up and down. "Dear dog, uh..."

Before he could finish, the dog pounced and scratched at Tu Zhe’s face with a little paw. "Lecherous ghost, if you call me that again—"

Tu Zhe dodged. What kind of dog was this? Wasn’t he just a disembodied soul? How could a scratch hurt?

He suddenly froze. A paw that could scratch a soul—what did that even mean?

Tu Zhe was in awe—not only was this dog adorable, but also mysterious. He looked at the dog, who was pouting.

"Dog, are you sure you never mentioned Mount Zhujialuo?"

The dog looked up and down, feigning innocence and playing dumb. "Did I? I didn’t say anything. Maybe your ears are broken, lecherous ghost... hmph..."

Tu Zhe grinned slyly and whispered, "My ears are fine—you must have a secret, hehe..."

The dog raised a paw, and Tu Zhe found himself flying through the void again, the dog’s shrill voice echoing after him: "This dog has no secrets, but she does have paws—"