Chapter 99: Different Surname, Not “Family”
In the end, the count came out to forty-three dogs Zhang Min had stolen—fifteen were local mixed-breed village dogs, and the remaining twenty-eight were pet dogs of various breeds.
The police registered each dog one by one according to market price, but the firefighters stopped them. Pointing at the “hunting dog—500 yuan each” line on the form, they corrected it: “Not just 500. We spent 12,500 yuan training Xiaohei, and it took a full year to turn him from a stray into a rescue dog!”
Zhang Min, still in handcuffs, lifted his head—his gaze dark and resentful.
Five hundred versus twelve thousand five hundred… that was a 25x difference. If they could just “press the price down” for each dog, maybe the total wouldn’t exceed thirty thousand.
Meaning his prison time could shrink drastically.
But these firefighters were forcibly jacking up the value of the stolen property—pushing it straight into the ten-thousand range. Only twenty thousand more and it would hit thirty thousand.
They were basically trying to shove him into three years in prison.
“Cousin—” Zhang Min tried to plead with his relative, but the next second he saw the man open his mouth and spit out one word:
“Get lost.”
The officer doing the paperwork glanced at Zhang Min and sneered inwardly. Zhang Min thought the firefighters were doing it on purpose, but the truth was: training a rescue dog really wasn’t cheap. Even if it wasn’t ten thousand, it would still be at least eight thousand.
Along with the police, Lin Jiangye and the other two also went to the station—along with the girl who’d been the first to step up and confront Zhang Min.
She was tapping furiously on her phone, click-click-click, who knew if she was texting someone… or dumping her ex-boyfriend.
When the police searched the truck, they found a whole set of dog-stealing drugs hidden in a toolbox under the seat.
What’s more, they discovered he had stashed quite a bit of toxic medication—stuff you couldn’t just buy off the street.
Everyone’s eyes changed instantly. It was clear Zhang Min’s crimes weren’t limited to theft.
While they were still searching the truck, someone suddenly burst in from outside and slapped Zhang Min across the face.
Smack! The sound was so loud the whole room froze—no question the person had put real force into it.
The police were thinking, Who the hell is bold enough to storm into a station and assault a suspect? But when they looked, it was an elderly woman.
And more importantly—when Zhang Min saw her, the word that spilled out of his mouth was:
“Mom.”
Oh. So this was the “aunt” from five years ago—the one rescued by a disaster dog during the earthquake. Looks like that firefighter really did call her right away and told her everything.
“You heartless little—no, you’re worse than an animal!” The old woman got halfway through “wolf-hearted dog-lunged,” then realized she shouldn’t insult wolves and dogs like that, and hurriedly changed her wording.
Zhang Min kept his head down. Half his face was swollen high from that slap—it looked serious.
Everyone assumed his mother was trying the “strike first, play victim later” routine—beat him up a bit so he’d look pitiful and maybe the victims would go easy on him.
But no—she really just wanted to hit him.
“Why would you do this? Why?! Even your own mother was saved by a dog—so why the hell would you steal dogs?!”
A cop nearby almost corrected her—theft is theft, it has nothing to do with what was stolen—but a colleague gently elbowed him and shook his head, signaling him to shut up.
Zhang Min still didn’t say a word, which only made the old woman explode. She yanked out a rolling pin from her bag.
A rolling pin?!
It was as thick as a grown man’s forearm—way thicker than a normal rolling pin. And she brought it down hard on Zhang Min’s shin.
The station instantly filled with a shriek so sharp it sounded like someone was being murdered. Even the station chief was startled—he rushed over thinking something catastrophic had happened.
When he arrived, he saw everyone clustered around a handcuffed suspect. The man’s shin was twisted unnaturally—clearly badly injured.
“What the hell are you doing?” Don’t tell me the police broke his leg?!
Thankfully someone quickly explained everything. Once the chief learned it was the suspect’s own mother who did it, he bared his teeth reflexively, his face contorting in phantom pain.
It looked brutal… but honestly, that one hit did feel pretty satisfying. (:???)
The burly firefighters huddled together, clutching Xiaohei, their faces a mix of horror and vindication.
Seeing his own mother actually hit him, Zhang Min finally broke. He sobbed and screamed that dogs were “just animals,” that there was no need to treat them like saviors, that no matter how capable a rescue dog was it was still “only a dog,” and since they were animals, they’d always be beneath humans.
Oh, got it. So he stole someone’s dog—and somehow managed to steal himself a sense of “human dignity” too.
That speech nearly made his mother faint. If the police hadn’t restrained her, he probably wouldn’t have had a second leg left.
Once Lin Jiangye heard the “motive,” he had nothing to say.
People who believe they’re superior to animals are everywhere. Zhang Min wasn’t the first, and he wouldn’t be the last. Slogans about harmony between humans and animals are, to them, nothing more than stupidity.
It wasn’t surprising that an idiot like that could commit evil.
For Lin Jiangye, the priority wasn’t “dealing with” this idiot—it was getting the vet to treat these battered dogs as fast as possible, and then helping them reunite with their owners.
While the vets treated the dogs, Lin Jiangye photographed each one and asked for information about their owners, then uploaded all the photos and details to his account.
He started a livestream again after a long absence. It was only a little past nine—prime time for people lying in bed scrolling their phones.
He hadn’t streamed in ages, so there weren’t many viewers at first—just some fuzzy-creature lovers rushing in to “inhale tiger” and “inhale wolf.”
Then the first thing they saw in the livestream was a bright police emblem.
[??? Isn’t this supposed to be fluffy heaven? Why am I in a police station?!]
A second later, the camera moved away from the emblem and onto the open area beside the station. All the dogs had been properly handled and settled.
“I’m streaming today because I spotted a dog-thief’s truck on the Qing–Yue Expressway. The suspect says all the dogs on this truck were stolen—snatched—from around Qing Province. If any of you have lost a dog, come take a look. Your fur-kid might be here.”
So Consultant Lin caught a dog thief!
Wait—dog thief?!
Most people who watched Lin Jiangye liked animals. Even if they weren’t fond of a particular species, they didn’t have that kind of malice.
The words “dog thief” instantly made them think of owners who’d cried themselves sick after losing their fur-kids.
On camera, the dogs lay obediently on the ground. The moment Lin Jiangye approached, each one let out soft whines and needy little cries, so sweet it nearly melted the viewers’ hearts.
Lin Jiangye deliberately showed their injured spots on camera and said gently, “Please help share this stream. I’ve already organized all the dogs’ photos and info. If you recognize your missing dog, send me a private message.”
Why private messages? Because the owners needed to come in person—then the dog could identify whether that person was truly their owner.
Among these rescued dogs were expensive purebreds. What if someone tried to scam their way into claiming one?
People like that absolutely existed.
And if anyone demanded Lin Jiangye “deliver” or “ship” the dog… then forget it. Consider the dog truly lost.
Qing Province wasn’t far from Yue City. Even the farthest city within the province was only about 400 kilometers away. They could call a rideshare if they had to.
Lin Jiangye barely talked during the stream—he just filmed each dog’s face, one by one, then ended it immediately.
Thanks to countless good people sharing, “Dog thief caught on the Qing–Yue Expressway” slowly climbed the trending list.
More and more people reposted it across their platforms, passing the message along so owners could find their dogs as soon as possible.
They stayed busy until nearly dawn.
Then Jiang Xin arrived with a truck. Lin Jiangye loaded the dogs and the vets onto it and transported them to the pet hospital for continued treatment.
The hospital had expanded once already—from a single-floor shop to a two-story building. The side rooms were bedrooms for strays, and the back had a yard for activity.
It used to feel spacious—but with forty-plus dogs jammed in today, it became crowded in an instant.
Thankfully, this didn’t happen often. Otherwise Lin Jiangye would need a second expansion.
The dogs were still scared when they were rescued, but once they reached the hospital and saw other dogs sleeping soundly, their anxiety gradually eased.
“Rest well here. When your owners come, you’ll go home. If no one comes…” Lin Jiangye patted each head in turn. “Then I’ll find you a new one. If you don’t want a new owner, that’s fine too—I’ve got money. I can keep you.”
Amid a chorus of soft, clingy whines, he finally left the hospital.
When he got home at last, he stepped through the door and saw Tiger Mom—an absolute unit—lying on the living-room floor, clearly waiting for him.
It was already around one, nearly two in the morning. To avoid waking anyone, the main light was off; only a few blue nightlights glowed.
In the dim light, Tiger Mom’s pale golden eyes shone like fire in the dark—bright, but without the scorching heat of flame.
She didn’t speak. She just lifted her head slightly and gave a small nod.
[As long as you’re back, that’s enough.]
Warmth burst in Lin Jiangye’s chest, spreading through his blood, chasing away every ugly feeling left behind by the two cases.
“Tiger Mom!!!! Mom mom mom!!!” Lin Jiangye flung off his backpack and launched himself onto her, hugging her fluffy body and taking a huge, greedy inhale.
Ah—Mom’s scent. Big-cat scent.
He hugged her and rocked a little, exactly like a human child clinging to their mother. Jiang Xin, standing behind them, cursed the Fang family all over again in his heart.
But thinking of the Fang family—and their recent streak of misfortune—Jiang Xin couldn’t help wanting to laugh.
No one knew who struck first, but the past two days had been a nonstop chain of disasters for the Fang family: first they were reported for fire-safety violations and were forced to shut down multiple shops for rectification; then they were reported for tax evasion. Before they could even finish paying the back taxes, their products were exposed for serious defects, and victims banded together to sue.
Of course the Fang family wouldn’t just accept it—but one, everything hit too fast and too hard, and two, even when they tried to use money and influence, they found plenty of officials in Gao City scrambling to distance themselves.
Rumor had it a central inspection team was already on the way. Only an idiot would leave themselves a handle to be grabbed at a moment like this.
They hadn’t even finished cleaning up their old messes yet.
Jiang Xin turned back, surprised not to see a certain man, and asked Bai Zhengwen, “Where’s Shang Fuyan?”
Bai Zhengwen’s expression was a little odd. “Him? When we went to the station, he went back to Yue City first. Said he had something important to handle. Why’d you suddenly bring him up? He doesn’t live here.”
Jiang Xin and Bai Zhengwen exchanged a single look, instantly understanding that fleetingly delicate expression on each other’s faces.
“You finally figured it out too.”
“What??” Bai Zhengwen’s heart jumped. He looked at Jiang Xin, completely baffled.
Figured out what?
Jiang Xin glanced at Lin Jiangye, still glued to Tiger Mom, then quietly led Bai Zhengwen away in the opposite direction.
When they were a hundred meters from the living room, Jiang Xin finally spoke in a low voice:
“Shang Fuyan likes Lin Jiangye. You noticed too, didn’t you?”
Ah… ah? AH!!!
Three “ahs,” each one representing a different emotion: the first was Bai Zhengwen not processing it yet; the second was shock that Shang Fuyan had those feelings; the third was him suddenly understanding why the atmosphere between those two had always felt… off.
“You… are you not married?” Jiang Xin felt Shang Fuyan’s behavior was painfully obvious. The guy barely even bothered to hide it—if anything, it was Lin Jiangye who was a bit slow… wait, was he really unaware?
Bai Zhengwen’s mouth twitched. They were talking about those two—why was Jiang Xin dragging his marital status into it?
But he did answer the last part. “He definitely noticed.”
That earlier vibe between them was not even remotely innocent.
Bai Zhengwen might not have a wife or girlfriend, but he’d still seen enough—those two leaning close like that? Even an outsider could feel it.
But Jiang Xin’s expression turned subtly complicated after hearing that.
He was much older than Lin Jiangye—older than Shang Fuyan too. When he cared for Lin Jiangye, it wasn’t just “housekeeper duty,” it was more like watching over a younger brother.
So the first time he realized Shang Fuyan liked Lin Jiangye, it felt like his bright golden cabbage was about to get snatched away by a dog.
But he was just a steward, not Lin Jiangye’s real family. He didn’t have the right to stop it.
At least Shang Fuyan’s character held up, and his care for Lin Jiangye was real. If those two ended up together, no one needed to worry about him hurting Lin Jiangye.
“Actually, it’s not just you who noticed. Even the Mountain God knows.”
That truly startled Bai Zhengwen.
“Even the Mountain God knows? How would she understand human feelings—” He stopped mid-sentence, realizing he’d said the wrong thing.
Tiger Mom wasn’t like other tigers. There was something faintly divine about her. Everyone in the house treated her with deep respect, genuinely like Lin Jiangye’s elder.
Bai Zhengwen sucked in a breath. Lin Jiangye treated Tiger Mom as his real mother. If she knew Shang Fuyan had designs on her kid, and she still hadn’t reacted…?
Jiang Xin shrugged. “Maybe the Mountain God thinks it’s normal.”
Animals pairing up was normal, after all.
As for whether Shang Fuyan would dare hurt Lin Jiangye… Jiang Xin didn’t think so. Not unless he wanted to get flattened into a pancake by one tiger paw.
Bai Zhengwen thought it over and couldnled a laugh. Shang Fuyan might not even withstand Lin Jiangye’s punch—let alone a slap from the Mountain God.
While the two chatted outside, Lin Jiangye was inside clinging to Tiger Mom and rubbing his face all over her. He rubbed so hard Tiger Mom looked like she wanted to roll her eyes.
He told her about the suitcase case—from him and Shang Fuyan fishing it up, all the way to them catching the killer together.
“Right now, nobody knows why he did something like that…” Those were his own kids—how could he possibly do it?
Lin Jiangye couldn’t understand it. Tiger Mom huffed twice. Male tigers killing cubs wasn’t unheard of—but usually it happened when food was extremely scarce, or the cub was weak, or the male couldn’t recognize the cub as his.
But that human clearly didn’t fit any of those.
And even if he did—humans were humans and tigers were tigers. You couldn’t compare the two.
[So maybe he’s just… purely brutal.]
That word was something Tiger Mom had learned from the people in the house. To her, “brutal” meant something was deeply defective—an individual that didn’t belong in the natural world.
Lin Jiangye paused, then admitted Tiger Mom wasn’t wrong at all.
A monster like Shi Licheng really shouldn’t be alive. 🙂
Soon enough, Lin Jiangye learned the killer’s motive.
Early the next morning, Lin Jiangye was jolted awake by his phone ringing. He carefully shifted around Tiger Mom, fished his phone out from under Tianshu’s fur, and saw Su Captain’s avatar.
“Captain Su? Oh!!!!” Lin Jiangye snapped fully awake. If Captain Su was calling, that meant they’d finished interrogating Shi Licheng.
Sure enough, once the call connected, Captain Su spoke in a weary voice about the results of their overnight interrogation.
“He hurt the kids because he wanted to vent his resentment toward Gu Jiawen. He married into her family, and those two children also took their mother’s surname. So in his mind, they didn’t count as his children.”
Lin Jiangye was completely stunned.
“What?” The reason was so absurd that, for a second, he suspected he had to be dreaming.
But then Tiger Mom smacked him with a paw—hard enough that his thigh actually ached—and only then did he snap back to reality.
“So it’s real… Just because of a surname, he didn’t see those two kids as his.” Lin Jiangye was so furious at the motive that his head started to throb.
Since when did “this is my child” depend on a last name instead of blood and love?
Lin Jiangye couldn’t understand Shi Licheng’s twisted thinking. After all, Lin Jiangye could even claim a tiger as his mom—he’d never treated bloodline or species as something sacred.
And it wasn’t just him. The Yueyang police couldn’t wrap their heads around it either.
“If he didn’t want the kids to take the mother’s surname, he could’ve just changed it. Why… why go this far?”
Those were two lives.
Captain Su fell silent for a long time before finally saying, “Maybe what he hated wasn’t the surname—but the version of himself that was being crushed by his wife.”
Because he’d married into her family. Because she was more capable than him. Because all of that wounded his fragile pride and dignity.
Whether the children took whose surname wasn’t the real point. The point was that, in his eyes, those two children carried the blood of someone he resented—so he killed them.
Once the children were gone, and the wife who “suppressed” him was gone too, Shi Licheng—who had taken over all of his wife’s assets—could simply find a younger woman and have “his own” children again.
That way, he could erase the psychological shadow his wife had left on him.
The officers at the bureau found it both unbelievable and revolting—but they had to admit it fit the criminal psychology.
Disgusting… truly disgusting.
Not long after, Yueyang City and Wen’an District jointly released the case details to the public. From discovering the suitcase, to tracking it down, to the interrogation at the end—everything was disclosed.
The case even made it onto a program, turned into a documentary that aired on television.
Shi Licheng’s cruelty and his incomprehensible “logic” shocked countless netizens. Even though police censored his name, online sleuths pieced things together bit by bit, and his identity was quickly exposed.
And so, Shi Licheng’s family were the first to be met with public scorn and disgust.
After that, they were beaten up—by Gu Jiawen’s relatives. Not just once. In the end, the whole bunch fled Yueyang overnight. They didn’t even dare return to their hometown.
Some people argued that his family was innocent. But only a few days later, it was dug up that the Shi family had actually encouraged Shi Licheng to cheat—saying he should produce a bastard child to “carry on the Shi surname.”
So it turned out: like father, like family. Gu’s relatives hadn’t beaten the wrong people after all.
