The blood in his mouth stained the piece of rock he held in his mouth red.
His body ached, but he couldn’t pinpoint where the pain was coming from, as if it was his back, or his chest, or his head, or his throat… The pain surged through his body with the blood, rampaging freely.
Winifred had once said that Leland would one day come back to her, and when he did, she would make him kneel and learn to bark like a dog.
Winifred kept her word without waiting for that “one day” to come, with no suspense. The pride of the poor was worthless, and the poor were the easiest to bully.
Leland slowly turned back, still crawling, with his head down, feeling the mocking and contemptuous gazes.
Winifred chuckled softly, her voice pleasant to the ears, often likened to a nightingale in elementary school textbooks. Winifred’s voice was even sweeter than a nightingale’s.
“If only you had a dog’s tail, you’d look so charming wagging it.”
With the “compliment” ringing in his ears, Leland clenched the rock even harder.
He didn’t know when the iron gate had opened. Carefully, he placed the rock he had in his mouth at Winifred’s feet.
Seeing the blood on it, Winifred furrowed her brows slightly and kicked the rock away with her foot.
At that moment, Leland seemed to have truly transformed into a dog, as he was ready to crawl over and fetch it, but Winifred stopped him.
“Stop,” Winifred looked at his head. “Come back, lift your head.”
Obediently, Leland complied. She looked at the blood on the corner of his mouth. “You’re spitting blood. Are you sick? I don’t want a sick dog.”
“I’m not sick. The rock cut my tongue,” Leland said, then stuck out his tongue and indeed saw a bloody wound on it, still bleeding.
Mr. Hamilton finally spoke up, “Miss, let’s take him in and clean his wound.”
Ignoring Mr. Hamilton’s words, Winifred asked Leland while holding money, “Do you hate me, you little scum?”
Leland shook his head, devoid of hatred in his eyes. Mr. Hamilton also looked on carefully. When pushed to the extreme, even the most obedient dog would bite, not to mention a human. Seeing Winifred’s ability to torment others, Mr. Hamilton feared that resentful thoughts might arise in Leland’s heart, leading to revenge.
At such a young age, not yet adept at concealing emotions, Mr. Hamilton read a lot from Leland’s face. Resistance, humility, pain, endurance… but notably, no trace of hatred.
“You don’t hate me, which is right. You should know that you willingly came here for money. You sell dignity, I give you money. One buy, one sell, it’s only fair. If you don’t want to, you can leave, and I won’t stop you. But if you stay by my side and hate me, I’ll break your limbs, cut out your tongue, gouge out your eyes, and leave you to fend for yourself in the mountains.” Such cruel words from a young girl were not what one would expect, but she was right. He sold his dignity to stay by Winifred’s side like a dog. It was a transaction. To gain something, one had to pay a price. He had no right to hate this person before him.
Winifred’s words amazed Mr. Hamilton.
Leland said, “I willingly stayed by Miss’s side to be her dog.”
“If you want to be a dog, you must be by my side for the rest of your life. Can you do that?”
Leland looked at the money in her hand and said, “I can.”
“Dogs represent loyalty. You cannot betray me. From now on, you will listen to everything I say, do what I tell you to do, and you cannot resist or talk back.” Winifred bent down slightly, sprinkling the money on the ground before patting Leland’s head.
Seemingly affectionate yet insulting, her actions were like stroking a pet dog. “Good dog, you did well this time. Pick up your reward, and this time, you’re allowed to use your hands.”
In dog training, good behavior should be promptly rewarded so that dogs remember and obey their master.
The ground was scattered with banknotes. As Leland reached out to pick them up, he discovered that the palm of his hand was injured. It must have been scratched while crawling, as the road outside was paved with gravel. Though the wound was not large, a cut on the hand was particularly painful. The blood vessels were still throbbing, and the sight of blood on his palms caused his hands to tremble.
Leland’s hands did not look like those of a ten-year-old child. Due to years of work and lifting, his knuckles were larger than those of his peers. Rough and calloused from hard work, his fingers bore calluses.
Picking up a thousand dollars, it was the most money he had ever held. He planned to hide it somewhere and give three hundred dollars each day to the man at home. Even if he saved five hundred dollars a day, he could save two hundred each day. Before long, he could take his mother and leave that place.
The idea was idealistic, but the journey to achieve it would be arduous and brutal.
As Winifred walked ahead, she saw the maid and instructed her to take off the new clothes she had bought that day and let Leland change into them at the door before allowing him in.
Even though he was already treated like a dog, devoid of any dignity, Leland didn’t care about stripping outside. He just took off the dirty clothes and put on the ones brought by the maid. The clothes were not the same he wore before, but Leland didn’t ask. The clothes fit him well, as if they were tailored for him.
It seemed that Winifred had prepared them for him before he returned to kneel and beg her.
The maid escorted Leland inside, where Winifred was already seated at the table. Seafood porridge was served, with lobsters on the table bigger than faces. A servant was tasked with peeling them, placing the freshly peeled lobster meat on Winifred’s plate.
The steak was still being cooked, and the servants waited for the master to finish before having their meal. They ate the staff food they cooked themselves.
After a few bites of the lobster, Winifred was already full. The aroma wafted into Leland’s nose, who stood against the wall, deliberately not looking at Winifred eating, ignoring the tempting aroma around him. However, his body’s instincts were beyond his control.
Having only eaten a bun and leftover rice for lunch, he hadn’t eaten anything since then. Growing up, he needed nourishment, especially with a fast metabolism. His stomach growled uncontrollably, loudly voicing its emptiness.
Setting down her utensils, Winifred wiped her mouth. Just then, the chef brought out the steak, cooked medium-rare.
Although Winifred had already eaten enough with just the lobster meat, the steak was served too late. She picked up the plate and walked over to Leland.
The fresh and tender meat was presented before Leland’s eyes, but he kept his gaze down.
“Do you want to eat?” Winifred asked.
After a moment of hesitation, Leland nodded.
Would Winifred be kind enough to let him have dinner? Before he could come up with an answer, the plate tilted, and the steak fell on the floor.
“Go ahead and eat,” Winifred said.
Squatting against the wall, Leland picked up the piece of steak that had fallen on the ground. He had eaten leftover food others had drooled over, so this scraped-off steak was nothing to him.
He had never tasted such delicious meat before, but Leland consoled himself with the thought.
Watching him eat heartily, Winifred turned to Mr. Hamilton, who disapproved. She casually remarked, “What’s wrong with a dog eating food off the floor?”
Indeed, there was nothing wrong, but he was still a human despite your insults; even if you treat him like a dog, he’s still a person.
Dogs are grateful for the food you give them, even if it falls on the ground. Humans, however, are vengeful.
Wanting to remind Winifred not to be too overbearing and trample on others, Mr. Hamilton hesitated before speaking. He tried to convey that one should leave room for kindness, love, compassion, and empathy when behaving as a human.
Winifred, however, paid no heed. While she understood these principles, she was reluctant to adhere to them. Her parents didn’t care about her; why should she listen to the estate manager?
Getting choked up by a mouthful of saliva, Mr. Hamilton kept coughing, and Winifred’s expression shifted unpredictably. She then asked, “Mr. Hamilton, are you coming down with a cold? It’s been fluctuating temperatures recently. You should take care of yourself.”
Winifred didn’t seem like someone who cared about others. Mr. Hamilton was perplexed by her sudden concern and her seemingly amiable smile. He felt a sudden tightening in his chest – she seemed to have some ulterior motive.
Mr. Hamilton nodded in response. Although he had been prescribed cephalosporin for a sore throat before, he knew not to mix it with alcohol, as an overdose of cephalosporin and alcohol could be fatal.
Why was she suddenly bringing this up? Mr. Hamilton thought but didn’t dwell on it.
Having finished the last bite of steak, Leland asked, “Miss, can I come here during the day and return home at night?”
Seeing Winifred look at him in silence, Leland explained, “My mother is still at home; she’s bedridden. I have to go back at night to take care of her.”
“So, you mean you want to go back now?” Winifred asked.
It was already dark outside.
Leland nodded, unsure of Winifred’s response. Would she agree, or would she get angry and come up with a reason to humiliate him at the last minute?
“Fine, you can go back. Come during the day to be my dog.”
Winifred suddenly became more agreeable, but then warned Leland, “You better sort out the issues at home. I want a dog that will stay by my side continuously, not one that appears during the day and disappears at night.”
Dogs are not only companions but also guard dogs. What use is a guard dog that isn’t there to protect?
“I understand.”
Without saying much more, Winifred ordered the driver to take him back.
Passing by a pharmacy, Leland asked the driver to stop. He wanted to buy some medicine.
It didn’t take long for Leland to come out of the pharmacy with a bag of cephalosporin in his hand, which caught the driver’s attention.