Initial Communication

Thirty-Seventh Chapter: Initial Communication

Morning light spilled through the stone house's window lattice, casting mottled patches of light across the grass mat.

Chen An carried a steaming earthenware bowl, his footsteps slow and light.

On the grass mat in the corner, the black dog had already awakened the instant he approached. It raised its head, its ears giving a slight, keen twitch. Its dimly gleaming eyes were like two warm amber stones in the misty morning light, clearly reflecting Chen An's figure.

It did not bark. Instead, this silent awakening expressed an unspoken vigil.

The brown-black eyes were no longer unfocused. They were clear as a deep pool, reflecting the dancing firelight and Chen An's figure.

It did not try to get up. Though the penetrating wound in its neck had been covered by new tissue, even a slightly larger movement would tug at the unhealed flesh. It merely tilted its head slightly, its calm gaze following Chen An's every move.

Chen An placed the bowl of warm meat broth on the stone slab within reach of its paws.

The black dog's nostrils trembled slightly, as though it were sniffing some scent in the air. A nearly imperceptible whine came from its throat, low and lilting, like a sigh rising from the depths of its heart. The whine's final note lingered for a long time, as if testing something—or perhaps conveying some message to Chen An.

The black dog did not immediately lower its head to drink. Instead, it raised its deep eyes and met Chen An's gaze. A complicated emotion showed in its eyes. There was a longing for water, but also seemed to be something else.

There was no animalistic confusion in that gaze, only a tranquility bordering on wisdom.

Chen An crouched down and pointed at the earthenware bowl. "Drink. It'll help your injury."

The black dog's ears gave an almost imperceptible twitch.

It lowered its head with deliberate slowness, as if every tiny movement had been precisely measured.

The pink tip of its tongue gently lapped up the warm broth, followed by careful, restrained swallowing. It never forgot the injury in its neck. Every time it bowed its head, it endured the pain with extreme patience, dissolving any stabbing sensation into cautious, measured movements.

After several such laps, it suddenly stopped and raised its head again, a faint warmth still lingering around its moist nose.

It looked at Chen An. A string of short, soft rumbles rolled from its throat. There was no pain in the sound; it was more like a satisfied whine tinged with gratitude, as if responding to his earlier gentle reassurance.

Chen An's heart jolted. This was not an instinctive response to food, but a response born of understanding. He tentatively extended his hand, palm up, stopping an inch or so before the black dog's nose. "Does it hurt?"

The black dog's gaze fell on his palm. After a moment of silence, it suddenly shook its head ever so slightly. The movement was tiny, but unmistakably clear.

Chen An almost thought his eyes had deceived him. But immediately afterward, the black dog used its bandaged forepaw to point extremely slowly at the injury on its neck, a suppressed whimper of pain escaping its throat.

That gesture completely shattered Chen An's final doubts.

He looked at its entirely black fur, which gleamed like satin in the morning light, and remembered how it had curled up like a ball of ink when it had been gravely wounded and near death. A name slipped from his lips. "From now on... I'll call you 'Little Black,' all right?"

The black dog—no, Little Black—suddenly pricked up its ears.

It stared at Chen An, a glimmer seeming to pass through its brown-black pupils, as though savoring the weight of the name. Several breaths later, a docile whine, almost like a sigh, rolled from its throat. The tip of its tail brushed lightly across the grass mat, like a seal stamping its approval.

Seeing how heartbreakingly well-behaved it was, Chen An could not help letting the corners of his mouth curve upward in a tender smile.

His eyes filled with amusement. He slowly extended his hand, his fingertips carrying a hint of hesitation. After hovering for a moment, they finally descended gently toward the softest, thickest patch of fur behind Little Black's ear.

When his fingertip truly touched that warm softness, his movements grew even gentler, as if he were stroking a priceless treasure.

At the touch, Little Black's body stiffened slightly, but it did not shy away. Instead, it obediently lowered its head and let him pet it. His palm felt its warm, solid body; beneath the fur lay powerful muscles, and even though its severe injuries had not healed, he could still sense the strength lying dormant within.

"Little Black," Chen An called softly, lightly scratching behind its ear. "From now on, this is your home."

A satisfied rumble escaped Little Black's throat. It even took the initiative to rub its head against his palm. The body beneath the bandages relaxed completely, as though it had finally set down a burden weighing a thousand pounds.

Over the following days, a tacit understanding quietly grew between them.

When Chen An changed Little Black's bandages, it seemed able to understand his intentions. It would take the initiative to turn onto its side and expose the wound that needed treatment, as though cooperating with Chen An's care.

Chen An gently peeled away the old gauze and carefully cleaned the wound, while Little Black lay quietly without the slightest struggle or resistance.

When Chen An boiled meat broth beside the fire pit, Little Black would quietly keep watch nearby. Its gaze followed the rising steam, as if it could smell the meat within it.

Its tail swayed lightly from time to time, showing its anticipation of the delicious food, but it remained quiet throughout and made no sound to disturb Chen An.

When Chen An worked in the courtyard, Little Black did not remain idle either. It would lie on the grass mat, its eyes fixed on Chen An's every move.

Wherever Chen An went, Little Black's gaze followed him like a shadow. Occasionally, Chen An would suddenly turn around, and every time, he would meet Little Black's calm, focused eyes, as if Little Black had been silently watching him all along.

What amazed Chen An most was Little Black's ability to learn.

When he filled an earthenware bowl with water and placed it in front of Little Black, saying, "Drink water," it immediately lowered its head and lapped at it. When he pointed at the courtyard gate, shook his head, and said, "Do not go out," it withdrew its gaze from outside the courtyard and curled back up on the grass mat.

He even remembered one time when he was absorbed in grinding medicine. Before he knew it, the smooth wooden pestle rolled off the table and struck the brick floor with a crisp sound.

Chen An had not even had time to bend down when Little Black, which had been lying quietly nearby, moved. It merely stretched forward slightly and deftly nudged the pestle with its furry forepaw. The pestle rolled back with a rumble and stopped right beside his foot, as if it had never left.

"Just what is your origin?" Chen An murmured as he stroked the new fur growing along Little Black's neck.

Little Black responded by resting its chin on his knee, closing its eyes, and breathing steadily.

The barrier around the Safe Zone shimmered with a faint silver light beneath the sun, separating the Primordial Wilderness outside the courtyard into a hazy backdrop.

On the grass mat, one man and one dog nestled beside the fire pit. The dancing firelight stretched their shadows across the stone wall, weaving them into a tranquil silhouette.

Chen An gazed at Little Black's sleeping profile, a long-lost warmth surging through his heart.

In this perilous Primordial Wilderness, he was no longer alone.

The Thirty-Seventh Chapter Ends