Evil People Have Their Own Evil Mothers [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 9: Keeping a Pet

Chapter 9: Keeping a Pet

Is the protagonist’s revenge coming?

Xu Jiu’s hand still stubbornly twisted the door latch, to no avail. Had it been a wooden door or a flimsier security door, a couple of powerful kicks from Xu Jiu might have broken it open—but this was an iron door.

What would happen to someone locked in a dark room? He should search online and see what Baidu had to say.

Xu Jiu suddenly remembered his phone and frantically searched around, only to recall that Cao Weidong had taken it from him the previous night.

His heart, no longer content to stay quietly in his chest, lurched forward violently, almost leaping out from beneath his ribs. Pressing against his thin skin, it plummeted heavily before surging upward again. This wild pounding left Xu Jiu breathless, his face flushed crimson, tears welling in his eyes.

Changing tactics, Xu Jiu remembered that people lived nearby. If he pounded on the door and cried for help, surely someone would notice.

Smack!

His palm instantly turned bright red.

Smack!

Another blow left his hand numb.

SMACK!

This time, Xu Jiu put all his strength into the strike. The iron door visibly dented inward, and the wall shook violently, causing even the specimens in the room to shift slightly.

Just as Xu Jiu was rubbing his sore palm and preparing to switch to his left hand, the sound of a key turning came from outside the door. By the time he had warmed his palm thoroughly, the iron door swung open.

With his hands burning hot, Xu Jiu glared at the man standing in the doorway and thought, Since I’m already warmed up, I might as well hit him.

In a flash, he rushed forward, grabbed Cao Weidong by the collar, and slammed him to the ground. He then delivered a series of fierce hooks, pounding relentlessly at both sides of Cao Weidong’s face.

Tears welled uncontrollably in Xu Jiu’s eyes, flying out along with his punches, so what landed on Cao Weidong’s face wasn’t just fists but also salty, wet tears.

The moment those tears fell, Cao Weidong’s pupils dilated sharply.

Give me back my phone!

Xu Jiu’s fist was still raised mid-air, his expression fierce and menacing, tiny sharp fangs bared. The skin beneath his eyes was flushed red, and his body carried the contradictory mix of the garage’s damp, musty odor and a faint citrusy perfume.

He didn’t look intimidating—instead, there was an unusual, coquettish anger about him.

Under the pillow, Cao Weidong said.

Xu Jiu released him and ran back into the room, where he indeed found his phone under the pillow.

When Xu Jiu turned back, Cao Weidong had already stood up, moving unhurriedly. He held a breakfast bag with two steamed buns inside and gently rubbed his cheek where he’d been struck.

Wiping his phone screen, Xu Jiu tucked it into his pocket, then snatched the steamed buns from Cao Weidong’s hand, claiming them for himself without a second thought.

Cao Weidong watched Xu Jiu expressionlessly. From the moment he opened the door, his gaze hadn’t left Xu Jiu for even a second. He observed Xu Jiu’s reckless actions without any reaction, allowing him to act out freely.

Xu Jiu’s bare feet felt icy cold on the floor, and he belatedly realized he wasn’t wearing shoes. He hurried back to the bed, shoved his feet into his shoes—not bothering to put them on properly—hopped a couple of times, and then dashed out the iron door, terrified that if he delayed even a moment, Cao Weidong would lock him inside again.

I don’t like steamed buns.

Xu Jiu took a bite of the bun—it was cold and hard—then tossed it to the ground in disgust, spitting a couple of times before fleeing without looking back, as if escaping a disaster.

Cao Weidong stared at the steamed bun on the ground, the one Xu Jiu had bitten into, as his stomach growled with hunger.

After barely a moment’s thought—almost instantaneous—Cao Weidong picked it up and stuffed it into his mouth.

Following the exact tooth marks left by Xu Jiu, he bit down again, deepening the impression.

Ring-ring-ring—the phone rang.

Cao Weidong pulled out his cellphone, an elderly-style model with only call and text functions.

When are you paying this year’s maintenance fees for the two burial plots? It’s already a month overdue. If you don’t pay, come collect the ashes, a menacing male voice snapped from the other end.

The scholarship will be issued in a week. I’ll definitely pay then.

Cao Weidong had asked his advisor earlier that morning and confirmed the exact disbursement date. His reply carried newfound confidence, enough to use the word definitely.

Hurry up, then, the other party said impatiently before hanging up.

Cao Weidong returned to his room, removed all the memory cards from the surveillance cameras, extracted the footage of Xu Jiu sleeping from various angles recorded the previous night, and transferred it to his laptop.

Expressionless, he watched the screen where Xu Jiu lay curled up, arms wrapped around himself. The tremors of fear were vividly clear on Xu Jiu’s body—like a plucked chick, with slender limbs that looked as though they could snap with the slightest pressure.

Cao Weidong’s hand moved to his face, touching a dried tear beneath his eye.

If only—

That dangerous thought surfaced once more.

Cao Weidong gasped sharply, slammed the laptop shut, and sprang up from his chair as if propelled by a spring.

Screech—

The chair legs emitted a sharp, piercing sound.

Cao Weidong braced his hands on the desk, breathing rapidly and heavily.

His dark, hollow eyes fixed intently on the toppled specimen on the table, but the specimen appeared dull, failing to register in his lifeless gaze.

He wrestled with himself for a long time—so long that the entire day slipped away in this manner.

Glancing at his wristwatch, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and plunged into the darkness outside. He still had work today.

His boss had already informed him that Xu Jiu wouldn’t be in.

Cao Weidong felt that he and Xu Jiu had probably reached the end.

No matter how difficult Xu Jiu was, even he would be frightened by someone like him—a freak. And clearly, Xu Jiu was already terrified.

But when he returned home after work, he found a head of pink hair crouched by his doorstep. The pink-haired youth was cheerfully chatting with the aunties nearby, making them laugh heartily.

As Cao Weidong inserted his key into the door, Xu Jiu clapped his hands and stood up.

Aunties, that’s all for now. My friend’s home, Xu Jiu said.

Cao Weidong pushed the door open and entered, and Xu Jiu slipped in right behind him, smooth as an eel.

What? Not welcome? Xu Jiu glared at Cao Weidong.

Cao Weidong glanced at him, set down his backpack, and sat at the desk to change the dressing on his wounds. He had new injuries—two sterile patches on his face, courtesy of Xu Jiu’s blows earlier that day.

Xu Jiu hooked his pinky at the corner of his mouth, pulling it upward to reveal his pristine white teeth. He shook his hair, releasing a strong, floral shampoo scent, and mumbled indistinctly, I showered before coming.

Cao Weidong’s brow furrowed slightly. He lifted his gaze, studying Xu Jiu with a prolonged, meaningful look. His pale, anemic throat shifted as his Adam’s apple dipped. A subtle, ambiguous smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, his eyes flickering with layered implications.

Xu Jiu was utterly baffled, unable to comprehend why he was being looked at with such an expression. Was this some kind of joke?

Your bathroom supplies are too cheap, just like you—trashy and worthless.

Cao Weidong didn’t look at him again, nor did he offer any explanation.

Xu Jiu didn’t want to talk to him either; he was exhausted.

During the day, to make up for last night’s boredom at Cao Weidong’s place, he had recklessly partied all day with Pan Yu and the others.

Now he planned to sleep first before causing more trouble.

Xu Jiu kicked off his shoes and sprawled across Cao Weidong’s rock-hard bed, kicking the blankets and punching the pillow like a cuckoo usurping a magpie’s nest.

Thump—

Xu Jiu’s back hit the bed, the pain so sharp he jolted upright like a carp leaping out of water, cursing through gritted teeth: Why is your bed so damn hard?! Is it made of steel plates?

Cao Weidong ignored the noisy nuisance beside him, not even granting him a glance.

The injury in his right hand flared up again, sending cold sweat down his spine.

Money was tight right now, and Cao Weidong had no extra funds to fully treat his hand injury. He could only rely on the body’s natural healing abilities.

Xu Jiu glanced at the gloomy Cao Weidong and suddenly felt bored. He turned over on the bed and started playing with his phone.

He joined a voice chatroom where a dozen good sisters showered him with cries of Young master! Young master! But for some reason, his eyes kept drifting guiltily toward Cao Weidong, wary that the man might snatch his phone again. He remained on high alert.

Cao Weidong hadn’t acknowledged him all evening, and Xu Jiu found it dull. He yanked the pillow from behind his head and threw it at Cao Weidong by the desk. I warned my friends before coming—if they don’t hear from me tomorrow, they’ll automatically report me missing. Don’t even think about trying anything.

Cao Weidong glanced at him, and Xu Jiu fell asleep satisfied.

After Xu Jiu drifted off, Cao Weidong picked up the pillow, tidied the room messed up by Xu Jiu, and returned to his computer to review final exam materials.

When Xu Jiu woke up groggily in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, he noticed the faint glow of the computer screen in the darkness. His gaze shifted to the desk, where Cao Weidong remained deep in thought before the monitor.

Xu Jiu naturally rolled over, habitually clamping the pillow between his legs, and sank back into heavy sleep.

He slept soundly, even the cold electric hum from flickering red eyes in the darkness transforming into a lullaby.

The next morning, Cao Weidong left while Xu Jiu was still asleep. As he locked the door, he paused for about ten seconds with the key in the lock.

Instead of turning the key, he simply pushed it in and pulled it out straight.

Winter was approaching, and the morning air was so dry it stung the nose. The cold late-autumn wind whipped up dried leaves on the ground, creating a crackling sound as hurried pedestrians rushed along the streets.

Cao Weidong visited the veterinary hospital. An aging dog lay in a cage, its paw extended with an IV drip administering cold medicine, artificially prolonging the feeble life that was fading away.

Next month’s medication fee needs to be paid in advance—three thousand yuan, the veterinary nurse informed him.

Cao Weidong acknowledged with a grunt and left the clinic.

He had found this dog on the street as a child. It had been with him for over a decade—the only living being in his life, practically family.

Calculating the three thousand for medication, Cao Weidong added rent and cemetery maintenance fees, then mentally tallied his scholarship amount. It would just barely cover all the gaps.

On his way home, Cao Weidong walked into a convenience store. The shopkeeper, recognizing him, asked, Classmate, the usual two steamed buns today?

Two steamed buns, Cao Weidong replied.

Alright.

Suddenly, Cao Weidong withdrew the hand holding the money. His gaze fixed on the back of the store he directly toward that area, picking up shampoo, body wbefore ash, strodeand two towels.

Returning to the checkout counter, he said, Add two meat buns and an egg.

The shopkeeper looked up in surprise. Buying for someone?

Cao Weidong remained silent, his quiet demeanor prompting the shopkeeper to quickly bag the breakfast.

As the steaming breakfast was handed over, the chatty shopkeeper joked, For your special someone?

Cao Weidong turned to leave but paused at the comment. Got a dog recently, he explained.

The shopkeeper clearly didn’t believe him – who buys extra toothbrushes and towels for a dog?

Nodding toward the condoms displayed on the counter, the shopkeeper winked teasingly. Buy a box, you’ll need it.

Cao Weidong’s expression darkened, his eyes lowering critically.

Seeing this, the shopkeeper immediately wiped the smirk off his face, waving his hands apologetically. Just joking, don’t be angry.

Under the shopkeeper’s increasingly cautious gaze, Cao Weidong unexpectedly picked up a box, pressing his thumb against the packaging and gripping it firmly in his palm.

Check out.