Dog Training (2/2)
[Brother Gong Chuang: Dog Corp actually stormed into our lab back then. Right in front of everyone, they pointed at your brother and demanded to know why he was being so vengeful and relentless. Said it was unsportsmanlike, that he was just a glory hound in the research world.
But I still remember exactly what your brother said back then—haha, he was so cool, such a badass.
He looked annoyed and replied indifferently: “If I have resources, why wouldn’t I use them? You really think I’m some uptight gentleman? Sorry, but I’m a madman who’ll stop at nothing to achieve his goals.”]
[Brother Gong Chuang: You should’ve seen Dog Corp’s faces, haha. No matter how shameless they were, they had no way of dealing with someone who had zero limits.
In the end, your brother completely destroyed them—and lost a ton of money in the process. His parents were furious for days.
All the students who witnessed him pulling every dirty trick in the book to bring Dog Corp down are afraid of him now. But it’s a respectful kind of fear. If your brother ever gets into trouble, they’d definitely step up to help.]
[(o^^o): My brother would never get into trouble!]
[Brother Gong Chuang: Haha, you’re right, that was my bad. But hey—don’t you think there’s something… off about the logic in this story?]
Su Zesui didn’t expect Gong Chuang to test his reading comprehension skills too. He frowned slightly and started thinking hard.
[(o^^o): You’ve got such a good memory. You even remember exactly what my brother said.]
Gong Chuang let out a chuckle, amused by the boy’s train of thought.
[Brother Gong Chuang: Don’t you think… someone who’s goal-oriented should be more “ruthless”—willing to put even their pride and dignity on the line?
He took down that awful company, but what did he gain in the end? A mountain of debt and a sliver of dignity? Can you still call him the kind of madman who’s willing to sacrifice everything for his goals?]
Su Zesui couldn’t make sense of it. Logically speaking, Gong Chuang’s point seemed solid.
[Brother Gong Chuang: Alright, I won’t beat around the bush anymore. I’ll just tell you directly. He is the kind of person who can stake even his dignity and pride for the sake of a goal—but he hides his true objective so deeply that almost no one knows what it is.
But I know a little.
For some reason, he cares deeply about his physics research. At the same time, he really doesn’t give a damn about the family business.
Even if the company loses millions, to him it’s like losing nothing—because he doesn’t care. But if his research progress gets delayed, then the loss is infinite. Trading zero for infinity? That’s a good deal.]
Su Zesui suddenly understood.
No wonder at that wedding banquet, when Father Gu asked him to handle company matters, he was clearly reluctant.
[Brother Gong Chuang: Anyway, I’ve gone off topic. What I really wanted to tell you is this—he probably posted that thing on his Moments just to scare you on purpose. He doesn’t care about his reputation at all. Even if it gets ruined, it’s still a “zero loss” for him.
Gu Yilan is someone with a strong need for control—but at the same time, he doesn’t care about most things. He’s perfectly willing to trade away everything he doesn’t care about just to get what he wants.]
The terrifying thing is that extreme control and extreme indifference exist in the same person.
But that’s easy to understand. After all, there’s only so much one person can control. When you pour all your energy into holding onto just a few things, naturally you stop caring about the rest—if they break, so be it.
[Brother Gong Chuang: There are very few things he actually cares about. But I feel like… if you keep trying just a little harder, you might end up becoming one of them.]
[(o^^o): Then teach me, Brother Gong Chuang.]
Su Zesui was absolutely in awe.
Gong Chuang smiled and typed:
[Brother Gong Chuang: Don’t rush it. Just now, I made a decision—I’m on your side!]
. . . . .
In the afternoon, Gu Yilan arrived at his office on time with two lunch boxes in hand.
Last night, the drunk teenager had made one thing clear through his actions—keeping distance, avoiding, and putting up walls were no longer enough. The boy had already started down the wrong path, and it was time for some serious discipline. He needed to be corrected, little by little.
So far, Su Zesui was being fairly obedient. He followed instructions without fuss and hadn’t said anything outrageous again. A good, well-behaved little brother.
And if he’s being good, then everything becomes easier. Just go step by step.
As soon as he walked in, Gu Yilan saw the boy holding a book with a brown cover, chin resting on his palm, reading intently.
The moment he noticed Gu Yilan enter, Su Zesui quickly closed the book, sneakily slipped it into his backpack, and zipped it up with an exaggerated zip—as if trying to cover up the crime scene.
The whole thing looked exactly like a student caught off guard by a teacher.
That thin brown book definitely wasn’t part of any competitive exam prep.
Gu Yilan figured the boy was sneaking a peek at a novel during study time and chose not to say anything.
After stowing the book away, Su Zesui puckered his lips and asked, “Brother, is there anything on my lips?”
His lips were pale pink, and a bit of moisture clung to the pout, like a delicate flower bud just starting to bloom—soft and tempting.
“There’s nothing,” Gu Yilan gave it a glance, then looked away.
“Then why does it feel kind of itchy?” Su Zesui kept his lips puckered, mumbling the words.
Gu Yilan: …
Expressionless, he replied, “Maybe you’re just hungry.”
“…Okay.” Realizing his little trick had been seen through, Su Zesui gave up—at least for now—and sat quietly waiting for Gu Yilan to open the lunch boxes.
But as he waited, a new idea popped into his head, and he blurted out, “Brother, actually, about the video—”
Just as his hand naturally reached out and lightly landed on Gu Yilan’s arm, the man shoved a spoonful of rice into his mouth.
“Eat.”
He knew full well that whenever the boy combined words with touch, he risked losing control. So the best move was to prevent those situations from happening in the first place.
He never wanted to experience that feeling of losing control again.
“Mm.” Su Zesui was interrupted mid-thought, chewed the rice in his mouth a few more times, and then completely forgot what he was going to say. He happily continued eating.
They finished the meal peacefully. Gu Yilan gave a brief compliment to the boy for not rambling nonsense this time: “Good boy.”
Su Zesui was delighted by the praise. Excitedly, he said, “Brother, we’re brothers. But I—I’ll give you a chance to pursue me.”
Gu Yilan: …
Something seemed off with Su Zesui—like he had been brainwashed by some kind of cult.
But Gu Yilan had work scheduled in half an hour, so he didn’t have the time to argue with the boy. He simply said, “Stop watching so many videos. Fewer novels. And don’t talk to Gong Chuang so much.”
Su Zesui obediently waved at him. “Bye, Brother.”
It was the weekend, so there wasn’t much going on at the lab. After wrapping up some tasks, Gu Yilan planned to take the boy home early.
But when he returned to the office, Su Zesui wasn’t at his desk. A long chain dragged along the floor, trailing all the way into the slightly ajar bathroom.
Seeing the boy was in the restroom, Gu Yilan casually started tidying up the messy desk for him.
The moment his fingers brushed against a brown book on the desk, Su Zesui burst out of the bathroom in a panic, stumbling over his words. “B-Brother!”
Gu Yilan’s hand paused.
By then, Su Zesui had already rushed to the desk, clutching the book tightly to his chest. He turned his back to Gu Yilan, hurriedly slipped the book into his bag, and tried to act calm. “I’ll clean up, Brother.”
Gu Yilan withdrew his hand, took a step back, and narrowed his eyes at the flustered boy. “What are you hiding? Some kind of cult propaganda?”
Su Zesui quickly shook his head but didn’t dare look at him. He lowered his voice and muttered, “Study materials.”
As soon as he heard the words “study materials,” Gu Yilan frowned. “That secretive?”
“You can’t look, Brother.” Su Zesui declared righteously, though his guilty conscience was clear. After a pause, he added in a soft voice, “Okay?”
Gu Yilan didn’t push further. He casually took the boy’s packed-up backpack and reminded him calmly, “Don’t look at anything pornographic.”
Su Zesui shook his head, checked off his fingers, and said, “I’m not.”
He didn’t look like he was lying. Gu Yilan glanced at his nervous fingers and gave a faint “Mm,” then turned to leave.
But as it turned out, he had let his guard down too soon.
That night, after finishing some work in the study, Gu Yilan pushed open the master bedroom door—only to see the boy kneeling on the bed without pajama pants, eyes bright with anticipation as he stared at him.
He looked like he was up to no good.
The bed was quite far from the door, so even if Gu Yilan wanted to stop him, it was already too late. With no time to interrupt whatever spell the boy was casting, he was forced to hear him say, “Brother, take off your clothes and let’s sleep.”
Gu Yilan: “…”
This person never learned his lesson.
“Brother…” Su Zesui whispered, face blushing, “I’m really shy…”
With a blank expression, Gu Yilan walked over to the bed and looked down at the boy. He gritted his teeth. “I’m not taking mine off. You take yours off. And once you do, I’ll lock your hands and feet to the bedposts. After a while, your limbs will weaken—you won’t be able to lift your arms to eat or move your legs to walk. If you want to use the bathroom, you’ll have to beg me to unlock you and carry you there.”
His ears were turning red, his breathing unsteady, and his voice was low and tense. “Since you don’t like wearing pajama pants, why not just stop wearing pants altogether? There’s no one else at home anyway. When the housekeeper asks, just tell her the truth—it’s not that you don’t want to wear them. It’s that I don’t let you.”
His descriptions were way too vivid.
Su Zesui sat on the bed in a daze, staring blankly down at himself.
“Go.” A vein throbbed on Gu Yilan’s forehead. He pointed to the bathroom with his chin. “Take care of it yourself.”
Su Zesui shot up from the bed, grabbed his pajama pants, and ran to the bathroom.
Gu Yilan let out a long breath, trying to calm down.
At least he’d taught this cheeky little brat a lesson.
He looked up—and his gaze landed on the spot where Su Zesui had just been kneeling. The covers were slightly rumpled and still warm. And lying there, exposed to the open air, was a brown-covered book.
It was the very book Su Zesui had tried so hard to hide.
The book had fallen with its front cover down, the back cover blank, revealing nothing about which “cult” it might belong to.
Gu Yilan’s expression darkened slightly as he stared at it.
The boy was simple-minded and trusting, never guarded around anyone. The book he had been so careful to conceal was now left right out in the open. It was hard to say whether that was due to naivety or blind trust.
By all logic, as someone who saw himself as half a mentor to the boy, Gu Yilan should’ve set a good example—respected boundaries, modeled integrity, and allowed the boy his personal space.
Even if the book was lying out in plain sight, without the boy’s permission, he shouldn’t read it. That’s called respect between people.
Gu Yilan rubbed at the callus on his fingertip.
Then, without the slightest hesitation, he reached out and picked up the book with his guilty hand.
He was no saint. Why pretend to be one? If he wanted to look, he would.
He lightly flicked his index finger, turning the book over, and the glaringly obvious title fell into his line of sight—
<Dog Training Guide>
Gu Yilan: “…”