Chapter Five: The Dog Is Left Alone

“Achoo!” Zhou Miao rubbed his aching nose. Who could be thinking about me?

It was just seven in the morning. After a night’s rest, Zhou Miao and his companions were still sore all over. Under the director’s guidance, they arrived at the village chief’s house. The old home had already been demolished, bricks scattered everywhere. Most of the bricks were still usable, and today’s job was to gather those usable bricks and stack them neatly.

And it wasn’t unpaid labor—each person got a hundred a day and two meals included. Zhou Miao nudged Wang Jiang. “We’re counting on you, strongman.”

Wang Jiang felt miserable. He’d only joked offhandedly yesterday, never expecting they’d actually be hauling bricks.

Li Feifei was even worse off. Her hairstyle had completely collapsed. After washing her hair last night, she discovered there was no hairdryer, no styling gel. She’d simply tied it back in a ponytail today, but at least her face was visible now.

Her face was oval, not exactly beautiful, yet delicate enough. Perhaps from exhaustion, her complexion was drained of color, leaving her looking pale and listless.

Zhou Miao grinned from the sidelines. “Where’s that hairstyle of yours? You’ve got to perk up and show some spirit.”

Li Feifei shot him a glare and ignored him. Over the past couple of days she’d realized the more attention you paid to Zhou Miao, the more energized he became.

The sun was already up, and the three set to work. Their movements were far more efficient than yesterday’s—one hand wielding a trowel, the other grabbing bricks, scraping off the old mortar and stacking the bricks neatly to the side. They looked the part now.

The assistant director sidled up to the director. “When are you planning to officially start?”

The director took a long drag on his cigarette, answering calmly, “What’s the rush? Let’s observe a bit more.”

The village chief’s old house wasn’t large, and with plenty of helping hands, the task was done by mid-afternoon. Around three or four o’clock, the chief beamed as he handed each of them a crisp red bill.

He’d wanted to keep them for dinner, but they politely declined. The three of them were covered in dust and grime, looking like mud monkeys. All they wanted was to hurry back, wash up, and cobble together a simple meal for the evening.

After their showers, Zhou Miao and Wang Jiang sat shirtless under a big tree, cooling off and enjoying cold treats from the village store—bought with the money they'd sweated for that day.

Hauling bricks was a bit better than harvesting wheat, but it was even tougher on the hands. Zhou Miao’s hands felt so weak he could barely hold onto his frozen treat.

Grandpa Lin returned from working outside. Wang Jiang offered him a popsicle. “Grandpa, let me treat you to a popsicle.”

“Oh, wonderful, wonderful. Did you all have a tough day?” Grandpa took the popsicle and sat down right there on the ground.

“Not really. Didn’t feel much,” Wang Jiang insisted stubbornly, though his hand holding the popsicle was still trembling.

“Not tired, huh? All right then, tomorrow you can help me spread manure in the vegetable plot.” The director’s voice suddenly chimed in from nearby.

Wang Jiang’s face turned green at once. “I—I was joking! I’m exhausted—you see, I can barely lift my hands, I won’t even be able to hold chopsticks for dinner tonight.”

Just then, Li Feifei emerged freshly washed, carrying a cup of water. The director moved over with his small stool. “Come on, let’s hear it—after these couple of days of hard work, what have you all learned?”

Wang Jiang scratched his head, thinking hard. “Er, I’ve really come to appreciate how hard the working folk have it. When I get back, I’ll study diligently!”

“I’ve really realized how hard it is to earn money. I’ll never beg my parents for spending money or waste it recklessly again,” Li Feifei vowed, raising her hand.

“Yeah, what they said—I feel the same,” Zhou Miao replied, eyes lifeless, voice devoid of emotion. At that moment, his only thought was how wonderful the cool breeze felt—so relaxing it made him want to sleep.

The director nodded approvingly. “Good, well said. But you’re still spreading manure tomorrow. We promised a thorough rural experience, and we’ll deliver. That’s it then, time to eat—I’m starving.”

Damn! Watching the director’s shameless retreating figure, Wang Jiang, the chubby one, flung his popsicle stick at him in frustration.

Despair! Li Feifei slumped motionless in her deck chair like a salted fish that had lost all dreams. Why did fate have to torment a gothic princess like her so?

“Whew—” Beside her, Zhou Miao was already snoring gently.

The next morning, the three “jellyfish” made their way to the manure pit.

All three had transparent plastic bags covering their heads, the plastic puffing in and out with every breath.

Zhou Miao forced down the urge to gag. “Here’s the deal, Li Feifei, you scoop the manure water into the buckets, and Wang Jiang and I will carry them.”

“No way! That’s too disgusting!” Li Feifei shrank back, unwilling to go near.

Resigned, Zhou Miao glanced at Wang Jiang. “Then you do it?”

Wang Jiang retched on the spot. “No, let’s play rock-paper-scissors. Loser scoops, winners carry.”

Zhou Miao didn’t object, and Li Feifei, with no other options, reluctantly agreed.

“Rock, paper, scissors!”

“Yes!” Zhou Miao and Wang Jiang cheered, fists raised. Li Feifei stamped her foot in frustration, but a loss was a loss. She had to pinch her nose and get to work.

She squinted, as though not seeing clearly would make the job less revolting.

Once the buckets were filled, Zhou Miao and Wang Jiang slipped a carrying pole through and hoisted the sloshing load between them, faces contorted in misery.

“You filled this way too full!” Wang Jiang protested angrily.

“Why didn’t you do it yourself, then?” Li Feifei, now free, strutted ahead, keeping a safe distance from the two.

“Careful! You almost spilled it on my foot!”

“You’re too tall—I’m struggling here!”

Bickering all the way, the three finally reached the vegetable plot. It wasn’t large—just a patch of ordinary greens. Each took a ladle, stiffly splashing the manure water onto the plants.

“Take it easy! You’re splashing my pants!” Li Feifei glared at Zhou Miao.

“Move faster—sooner we’re done, sooner we’re free.”

They made three trips in all before the plot was finished. Returning the tools, they scrubbed themselves thoroughly by the river.

It was only a little after ten, and for a moment, the three of them had no idea what to do next.

“Do we have anything else to do today?” Wang Jiang asked, glancing at the camera.

“Don’t ask! If you don’t ask, we won’t get assigned anything,” Zhou Miao said, giving him a slap on the backside.

“Let’s go get some cold drinks.”

“Wait for me!” Li Feifei, just finished washing her feet in the river, quickly caught up.

In the sweltering dog days of summer, cold drinks were their sole salvation. With empty popsicle sticks dangling from their mouths, the three wandered the village lanes like street hooligans.

Suddenly, Zhou Miao’s face changed and he halted, gesturing for silence. Not far away, a stray dog lay dozing under a tree.

He looked around; the dog was alone. Zhou Miao’s eyes narrowed, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he spun the stick in his hand.

“That dog’s on its own—let’s get it!”

Wang Jiang quickly grabbed him. “No way, the cameras are rolling. That would look bad.”

“No worries, I’m not going to hurt it. You two go find me some sticks,” Zhou Miao waved them off.

“Huh? If we’re getting sticks, aren’t we going to whack it?” Li Feifei muttered.

“Just do as I say—I know what I’m doing!” With that, Zhou Miao tiptoed to a nearby house and swiped a stainless steel basin left drying outside the door.

He took the sticks the others had found. Good grief, after all that talk about the cameras, they’d come back with heavy wooden rods—as if they meant to finish the poor dog off!

Zhou Miao signaled for them to stay put and crept forward, step by step, the air growing still with anticipation.

When he was right in front of the dog, its ears twitched, sensing something amiss. As it raised its head, a massive basin came crashing down, blotting out the sky.

“Get it!” Zhou Miao roared.

He stomped on the basin to pin it down, then started pounding the bottom with his stick. Wang Jiang and Li Feifei, delighted, joined in, banging away with abandon. The noise was deafening.

The stray dog yelped in terror but couldn’t escape. The cameramen behind them were stunned, unsure whether to intervene.

“Which brat is making such a racket?” A plump auntie burst out, shovel in hand, furious.

Seeing trouble, Zhou Miao tossed his stick. “Run!”

In a flash, the three of them had vanished, leaving the stray to wriggle free and bolt into the vegetable patch, tail between its legs, ignoring the auntie’s angry calls, as though half its soul had been scared away.