A Dog Out of Nowhere Chapter 75

Usually, Sun Wenqu didn’t show what was on his mind, but this time he knew he was a bit troubled, because it involved Fang Chi, and it was the thing Fang Chi worried about most.

Fang Chi could be quite perceptive at times, so it didn’t surprise him that he noticed.

He didn’t speak, just rested his arm under his head and looked at Fang Chi.

“Can you tell me?” Fang Chi asked, “if you don’t want to… that’s okay too.”

“Then I won’t say.” Sun Wenqu smiled.

“Hey, you can’t do that. I’m considering your feelings, worried you might not want to talk,” Fang Chi clicked his tongue, hugged him, his hand gently rubbing his waist, “tell me. If something’s bothering you, I can comfort you.”

Sun Wenqu hooked his finger under his chin: “Li Bowen seems to want to set up a farmhouse stay recently…”

“Li Bowen?” As soon as he heard the name, Fang Chi immediately lifted his head.

“Mm,” Sun Wenqu pressed his already furrowed brow, “Liangzi said he’s been going out with Luo Peng and the others for outdoor stuff…”

“Where?” Fang Chi cut him off, getting to the point, “is he planning to do it here?”

“Yes,” Sun Wenqu looked at him, “but it’s not certain yet. It’s about to be autumn, off-season. If he does it, it’ll probably be next year.”

“Are you worried he’ll use some excuse to get familiar with my grandparents and then say something?” Fang Chi asked.

“Mm. It’s not certain,” Sun Wenqu frowned, “but with him… hard to say.”

“I understand.” Fang Chi said.

Sun Wenqu didn’t say anything more, and Fang Chi also fell silent.

The two of them stayed quiet.

Fang Chi’s reaction was quite calm, much calmer than Sun Wenqu had expected. He didn’t suddenly sit up nervously, nor did he press for details.

Sun Wenqu looked at him, not expecting that one day Fang Chi would be someone whose thoughts he couldn’t read.

“It’s fine,” after a few minutes of silence, Fang Chi sat up, “we’ll deal with it when he actually comes to set it up.”

“Hm?” Sun Wenqu raised a brow with a smile, “and then?”

“We’ll talk about it then. He hasn’t come yet,” Fang Chi smiled, “we’ll see when he does.”

“I thought you’d be so worried you couldn’t sleep,” Sun Wenqu touched his face, “you’re usually so cautious, and now you’re saying ‘we’ll deal with it then.’”

“Learned from you,” Fang Chi turned his head and lightly bit his fingertip, holding it in his mouth, “and I know how to handle it.”

“Already figured it out?” Sun Wenqu narrowed his eyes at him.

“Mm,” Fang Chi held his hand and kissed it, jumped off the bed, then leaned down and kissed his lips twice, “sleep. I’ll wake you up tomorrow.”

“You’re not going to tell me how you’ll handle it?” Sun Wenqu asked.

“I’ve got it,” Fang Chi walked to the door, then turned back, “don’t worry. If it really happens, I’ll definitely handle it.”

“Alright,” Sun Wenqu nodded with a smile, “goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Fang Chi went out and gently closed the door.

Sun Wenqu didn’t press further about how Fang Chi planned to handle it. Since Fang Chi said he could handle it, he didn’t intend to interfere.

Fang Chi’s reaction today surprised him a little, so calm it didn’t feel like the Fang Chi who used to get nervous at the mention of coming out and react to everything with alarm.

Sun Wenqu closed his eyes. He had originally thought he’d need to comfort him, but it turned out unnecessary.

At eight the next morning, Fang Chi knocked on his door and poked his head in: “Awake?”

“Mm.” Sun Wenqu responded, half his face buried in the pillow.

Fang Chi came in and walked to the bed, touching his face: “Want to sleep a bit more? If you’re still tired, sleep a bit, I’ll go for a run and wake you when I’m back.”

“I’ll go run too.” Sun Wenqu said, still with his face buried in the pillow.

“Then get up,” Fang Chi lowered his head and bit his earlobe, “grandma’s already boiling dumplings.”

“You dare bite me.” Sun Wenqu opened his eyes slightly.

“So what if I bite you,” Fang Chi chuckled, “I still want to eat you.”

“Come eat,” Sun Wenqu said, throwing off the small blanket and tugging his underwear down slightly, “come on.”

“D*mn!” Fang Chi froze, then quickly covered him back up with the blanket, “get up!”

Hearing him turn and run downstairs, Sun Wenqu finally laughed and slowly sat up.

It felt like it had been a long time since they ran together. Fang Chi would run a few steps, then turn his head to look at Sun Wenqu’s face a few times, then happily continue running.

“Pervert.” Sun Wenqu said.

Fang Chi nodded: “That’s me.”

Then the two of them laughed together, and Xiaozi, running alongside, barked a couple of times.

“I told grandma we’re celebrating your birthday today,” Fang Chi said, “she said she’ll cook noodles for you at noon.”

“How embarrassing,” Sun Wenqu said, “did you tell her I like sausage noodles?”

Fang Chi nodded with a smile: “I did.”

The two of them followed the path they used to run together, turning into the woods and heading toward the stream.

The mountain air was fresh, and the morning air was especially clear with every breath. Sun Wenqu enjoyed it, stretching his arms while running.

Just as they were about to reach the clearing where he used to practice Baduanjin, Fang Chi, who was running ahead, suddenly stopped, turned around, and rushed over to hug him.

“Robbery?” Sun Wenqu felt like he practically ran into him.

“I’m robbing your looks,” Fang Chi pushed him against a tree, kissing his neck and face, his hand slipping into his clothes, “I had nonstop dirty dreams all night.”

Sun Wenqu laughed and kissed him back. As soon as their lips touched, Fang Chi responded like a stray dog starved for half a month, urgent and domineering, pushing in as if fighting to take control.

When Sun Wenqu’s hand slipped into his clothes, Fang Chi grabbed and kneaded his waist hard.

Fang Chi’s hands, trained over time, were somewhat rough. Under that force, it hurt a little, but the pain stimulated the nerves.

It was very effective at speeding up the heartbeat and disrupting breathing.

Fang Chi pressed tightly against Sun Wenqu’s body, arms wrapped firmly around him, yet no matter how hard he held on, it didn’t seem to ease his desire.

He had to keep tangling with his tongue and lips, touching his body, pressing close. If not for a bit of remaining rationality, sometimes he even wanted to bite him hard.

Xiaozi hadn’t run far. At first, he stood to the side watching them. After a while, he slowly walked over to their legs.

Fang Chi didn’t know what Xiaozi was watching, he only knew the dog kept wagging its tail, circling them, its tail hitting Fang Chi’s calf several times.

It wasn’t until Xiaozi finally couldn’t hold back, barked, then bit onto his pants and started pulling backward that Fang Chi understood.

“Go away,” Fang Chi had to pull his mouth away, turning his head as he tugged at his pants and scolded, “we’re not fighting!”

Xiaozi let out anxious sounds, gripping his pants tightly, trying hard to pull him back.

“I’m really not…” Fang Chi felt completely helpless, “let go! Stop pulling!”

Sun Wenqu couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing, leaning against the tree.

“…Hey!” Fang Chi had no choice but to let go of him, smacking Xiaozi’s head lightly, “alright! I let go of him! Let go! Let go!”

After confirming they had separated, Xiaozi released his grip, licked Fang Chi’s hand, then ran to Sun Wenqu and nudged his hand with his nose.

“Good dog!” Sun Wenqu laughed, holding Xiaozi’s head and rubbing it, “your brother was bullying me, good thing you’re here.”

“Did you just join the FFF group or something?” Fang Chi tugged at Xiaozi’s ear, “are you still my dog or not?”

“Definitely not,” Sun Wenqu still smiled. “It’s clearly your grandpa’s dog.”

“Forget it,” Fang Chi leaned against the tree, a bit depressed as he tugged his pants open to take a look. “Good timing to cool off a bit. Doing it out here in the wild isn’t exactly safe anyway.”

“Youth really is great.” Sun Wenqu curled his lips.

“Don’t you feel lucky you ran into me?” Fang Chi turned his head to look at him. “Like a spring breeze.”

“Like spring scenery.” Sun Wenqu said.

“It’s just… when I think about how we’ll have to separate again in a couple of days,” Fang Chi sighed, “I can’t really take it.”

Sun Wenqu walked over and hugged him, rubbing his back firmly a few times. “Once I finish up what I’ve got going on, I’ll come see you.”

“Mm.” Fang Chi pressed his face into his shoulder and responded.

To keep this run from turning into a failed wild hookup attempt, they insisted on running two laps along the road before heading back to the village together.

Grandpa and Grandma were both busy in the small vegetable garden. The two of them went over and “helped” for a bit before heading upstairs.

“Let’s make a plate.” Fang Chi rubbed his hands together eagerly.

“Alright.” Sun Wenqu took out a brick-like lump of clay from the cabinet. “Today I’ll teach you how to make the simplest kind of plate. Glaze it and fire it directly.”

“Mm.” Fang Chi took the clay and pressed it. “This isn’t the same clay you usually use, right?”

“Not the same,” Sun Wenqu said. “That stuff is carefully selected by your Uncle Liangzi. This is just practice clay.”

“Then it suits me, no fear of wasting it.” Fang Chi raised a hand and pulled off his T-shirt. “Come on, let’s start.”

Sun Wenqu clicked his tongue as he looked at him. “What are you doing?”

“Learning from you.” Fang Chi grinned. “Isn’t this how you do it?”

“That’s the only thing you remembered.” Sun Wenqu sat down beside the wheel.

Since they were just doing it for fun, Sun Wenqu didn’t go into too much detail. He briefly explained the steps, then placed the clay into Fang Chi’s hands.

“Just start. I’ll tell you what to do as you go, just follow along,” Sun Wenqu said. “Use the wheel.”

“Mm.” Fang Chi nodded seriously.

The steps sounded simple: cut the clay into small pieces, soak it, turn it into slurry, shape a round base, then coil strips of clay around the edges and press them into place.

While listening, Fang Chi thought it sounded like playing with modeling clay in kindergarten. But once he actually started, he realized that just making the base already made his hands feel like hooves.

After barely forming a misshapen, not-quite-square-not-quite-round piece, he looked at the clay stuck to his hands and sighed. “How about I make an abstract polygon plate?”

“I’ll fix it. Hands off.” Sun Wenqu smiled and flicked his hand.

“Mm.” Fang Chi pulled his hands back and watched.

Sun Wenqu pressed the uneven base, adjusted the thickness, then steadied the edge and spun the wheel.

It was Fang Chi’s first time watching him this closely, knowing what he was doing. As he stared at Sun Wenqu’s long fingers shaping the clay, he felt something oddly captivating.

After just a few turns, the misshapen piece became a perfect circle.

“Alright, your turn. Press down the raised edges,” Sun Wenqu said.

“How does it look so easy when you do it?” Fang Chi clicked his tongue and tried to imitate him.

“I’ve been doing this since before you were born.” Sun Wenqu smiled.

Fang Chi glanced at him and continued working.

Coiling the clay strips looked simple too, but once he tried, his right hand felt like a left hand, and his left hand felt like maybe he was actually right-handed. In short, neither hand felt natural.

In the end, Sun Wenqu handled most of it, Fang Chi only needed to stack the coils.

Maybe it was the years of experience, but the moment Sun Wenqu’s hands touched clay, he seemed to change entirely, his gaze, movements, every detail mesmerizing.

Compared to making pottery himself, watching Sun Wenqu was far more enjoyable.

When Sun Wenqu handed him more clay, Fang Chi was still propping his chin, lost in thought.

“Hey.” Sun Wenqu dabbed his nose with clay. “Your turn.”

“…Oh!” Fang Chi took it and began placing coils carefully after brushing on slip.

Sun Wenqu reached over, pressing along with him.

Fang Chi kept staring at his fingers. Twice, the clay went outside the base.

Sun Wenqu clicked his tongue and flicked the back of his hand. “You even do rock climbing, where’s your coordination?”

Fang Chi grabbed his fingers and squeezed them hard. “Right here.”

Sun Wenqu’s clay-covered fingers were smooth yet grainy, the sensation tracing up his palm and arm.

“If you end up getting turned on while making a plate today,” Sun Wenqu pulled his hand back, “you should thank Uncle Liangzi for giving you such an accurate nickname—‘chive spirit.’”

Fang Chi burst into laughter. “I told you I like your hands.”

Sun Wenqu said nothing, just tapped his lips with his fingertip.

Without thinking, Fang Chi opened his mouth, caught his finger, and licked lightly.

“What does it taste like?” Sun Wenqu smiled.

Fang Chi was about to answer when someone knocked.

Three loud knocks, then Grandma’s voice: “Are you two in there?”

Startled, Fang Chi bit down reflexively.

“Hey!” Sun Wenqu pulled his finger back. “Want to dip it in sesame paste too?”

Fang Chi quickly rubbed his fingertip and called out, “We’re here, Grandma! The door’s open!”

“Uncle Zhang brought some grapes…” Grandma pushed the door open, then froze. “What are you two doing?”

“He’s teaching me to make a plate,” Fang Chi stood up, wiping his hands on his pants.

“Making a plate?” Grandma walked over and looked for a while. “If you didn’t say it was a plate, I wouldn’t know what to call it.”

“It’s not finished yet, it’ll look better soon,” Sun Wenqu laughed.

“Must be hard teaching him. He’s never been good with delicate work,” Grandma said, then looked at Fang Chi. “Already eating, huh?”

Fang Chi froze for a moment, then grinned and wiped clay from his mouth. “No.”

“Time to eat. I made noodles for Wenqu,” Grandma said. “Or will you eat after finishing?”

“No need, we’ll eat first,” Sun Wenqu stood up. “Didn’t even notice the time.”

Fang Chi draped an arm over Grandma’s shoulders as they went out. Sun Wenqu followed, watching him.

Fang Chi was a bit different now.

Sun Wenqu rubbed the finger Fang Chi had just bitten. Before, if Grandma had knocked like that, Fang Chi might have bitten his finger clean off.

Today, not only hadn’t he, he even rubbed it first before answering the door.

He still looked nervous, but the subtle change surprised Sun Wenqu.

“Happy birthday, Wenqu,” Grandpa poured him some homemade liquor. “Thirty now, right?”

“No, eighteen,” Sun Wenqu smiled, taking the bottle to pour Grandpa a drink too.

“Eighteen,” Grandma laughed. “Come, I’ll serve you noodles. Lots of toppings today, your grandpa prepared them.”

“Thank you, Grandpa, Grandma,” Sun Wenqu said, taking the bowl.

“You’ll gain another round today,” he added jokingly.

“You’ve already lost two rounds,” Grandma said. “We’ll make up one these next couple days.”

Sun Wenqu smiled and took a bite. “Delicious.”

“If it’s good, eat more,” Grandpa said in a formal tone.

Fang Chi burst out laughing. “That sounded like a commercial line.”

The noodles were delicious. Grandpa and Grandma were adorable.

Sun Wenqu smiled as he ate.

But he could feel Fang Chi’s fear and worry more and more and he didn’t dare look up at them.

He had the urge to just leave immediately, to never let the two elders see him again.

Maybe he shouldn’t have come back with Fang Chi.

No.

Maybe he shouldn’t have come here to stay at all.

After eating, Fang Chi went with Grandpa and Grandma to pick grapes. Sun Wenqu stayed upstairs, staring at the plate, absentmindedly pressing it.

When Fang Chi came up, he had already added another coil.

“You didn’t wait for me,” Fang Chi sat down across from him.

“Habit.” Sun Wenqu smiled. “Want me to take it off so you can redo it?”

“No.” Fang Chi said. “What’s next?”

“Press the edges firm, pinch tight, smooth it out,” Sun Wenqu demonstrated with slip. “Keep it even…”

Fang Chi followed, but soon ended up kneading Sun Wenqu’s hand again.

Sun Wenqu just smiled and kept shaping.

“This takes one or two hours,” he said.

“Perfect.” Fang Chi replied.

Wherever Sun Wenqu’s hands went, his followed.

As Sun Wenqu worked the plate, Fang Chi traced along his palms and fingers.

The afternoon sunlight streamed in, bright and soft. Dust floated in the beams, making everything feel quiet.

They could hear chickens murmuring next door, branches creaking in the wind, distant dogs barking, footsteps running up the stairs—

And the faint sound of their clay-covered hands brushing together.

“Should I say happy birthday today,” Fang Chi said softly, “or wait until the actual day?”

“Up to you.”

“Then I’ll say it twice. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.” Sun Wenqu smiled.

“I’ll make you chocolate for a late-night snack,” Fang Chi said. “I bought chocolate and crushed walnuts.”

“Okay.”

“Kiss me,” Fang Chi leaned closer.

Sun Wenqu met him, gently pressing his lips.

Xiaozi tilted his head nearby.