Xu Ye swallowed her dumplings in two bites and jogged her way along the clues the original poster left behind.
From the description, the dog had been carried out of the south gate of the neighborhood by a child.
The main entrance of Fuli Mingcheng was on the west side, and most people walking their dogs entered and exited through the west gate. The south gate led to a relatively remote street.
Xu Ye held her phone in one hand, scanning back and forth for any useful information.
She tried to find a lost dog notice in the residents’ group chat, but the messages were still stuck on some resident’s self-directed drama about selling gym memberships and others ruthlessly exposing it.
Xu Ye replied under the post:
[35F: Do you remember if it was to the left or right when you exited?]
[36F: I remember. It’s the side with the row of trees.]
The poster had a good attitude. Seeing someone respond, they added a cute dog emoji.
Xu Ye scanned her way through the south gate and looked around the empty street from left to right.
Great. It was neatly lined with trees, and there were uniform green belts under them. The street layout was mirrored as if copy-pasted, making it impossible to tell where the hole might be.
She replied again:
[37F: What can you see now?]
[38F: Blue sky, white clouds, and dirt—it’s a small hole.]
This time, the post included a “waiting for you” little white dog emoji. With the poster’s ID “Snowball,” the whole interaction seemed adorable and well-behaved.
On a quiet Sunday afternoon, the already remote street didn’t even have pedestrians passing by, but Xu Ye couldn’t hear any barking.
“Eenie meenie miney mo—whichever side it lands on, that’s where I’ll go.”
Xu Ye decided to trust her intuition and headed to the left.
She told the poster, Snowball, that she had brought someone to help and asked it to bark every now and then.
Checking the left side of the street took nearly twenty minutes. Finally, near the street corner’s green belt, she heard faint barking.
The sound was muffled and small, but the owner of the voice was clearly trying hard to project the noise out of the narrow hole.
Xu Ye checked the replies—Snowball was indeed stuck here.
[41F: I think I hear someone coming! Is it you, dear friend? (Happy little dog.jpg)]
[42F: Yes, don’t worry. I’ll get you out soon.]
Xu Ye followed the sound and found the source of the barking. It wasn’t in the green belt but in a patch of dirt under a loose tile next to the wall.
She approached and saw a small white head peeking out from the tile. Snowball’s fur was dirty with mud, but its bright eyes looked at Xu Ye and barked twice.
It seemed the ground had caved in due to rainwater erosion, leaving a hole just large enough to trap a small animal. However, the entrance was narrow, and even a small dog like Snowball could only stand there with its front paws off the ground.
Xu Ye saw Snowball’s head perfectly stuck in the hole and thought: Do forum users really not need phones to get online?
She patted the dog’s head, trying to figure out how to pull it out. The narrow hole allowed only one arm in, and she wasn’t sure where to grab without hurting the dog.
The sharp screech of a bicycle brake startled Xu Ye out of her thoughts, nearly causing her to tug out some of Snowball’s fur.
Huo Shuyan dismounted from a bicycle that looked completely out of place with his demeanor, kicking down the rear stand with his foot.
He was wearing a new mask that read “Lerong Pet Store,” which would perfectly complement Xu Ye’s mom’s “Yimei Pig Feed” mask as a matching set.
Xu Ye’s eyes lit up, and she waved at Huo Shuyan. “Huo, can you help? I was passing by and found a dog stuck in this hole.”
She gestured to the narrow entrance and asked, “How should we pull it out? We can’t just grab it by the scruff of its neck, right? Won’t that hurt it?”
Huo Shuyan squatted down beside Xu Ye and glanced at the dog twice. “Don’t worry. This breed looks like it has a giant head because of its grooming style.”
He knelt by the hole and stretched his arm in without caring about the dust now covering his legs. After grabbing the dog, he propped himself on the ground with one hand and carefully pulled it out.
Once the dog’s head emerged, Huo Shuyan quickly lifted the rest of it out.
As Snowball’s head popped out, Xu Ye thought of that squishy corgi butt from before.
She reached out and gently patted Snowball’s dirty but still fluffy head.
From extending his arm to pulling the dog out, it only took Huo Shuyan about ten seconds. He lifted Snowball’s paws and checked for injuries. Snowball stayed still and quiet during the examination, not barking or struggling.
Xu Ye opened the group chat again, but still, no one had reported a missing dog.
She sighed, turning off her phone.
Huo Shuyan picked up the dog and nodded at Xu Ye. “It hasn’t been stuck for long. Its breathing is fine, and there are no injuries.”
He didn’t ask why Xu Ye, who claimed to be taking a nap, was out here or how she had found the trapped dog.
At this point, Xu Ye was almost certain Huo Shuyan had an account on the forum—otherwise, he wouldn’t have come to such a remote street.
But since he didn’t ask, Xu Ye didn’t explain. They weren’t close enough to reveal their alternate identities.
Although her ID included the last character of her name, as long as she didn’t post anything, Huo Shuyan wouldn’t find out.
Xu Ye confidently thought this, completely unaware of what she had overlooked.
“This probably belongs to someone in our neighborhood. Let’s check the west gate.” Xu Ye suggested, snapping a photo and posting it in the residents’ group to ask whose dog it was.
Huo Shuyan waited for Xu Ye to finish taking photos, then placed Snowball into the bike basket. The small basket was just the right size for the tiny dog.
The bicycle looked slightly old-fashioned, like the ones her grandfather used to ride, yet it didn’t look out of place with Huo Shuyan pushing it.
“You were lucky to find it. Standing for a long time can damage a dog’s bones, disrupt blood circulation, and in severe cases, deform the spine,” Huo Shuyan said, glancing at Snowball, now lively again in the basket. With mud covering its fur, it looked more like a ball of dirt.
“That serious?”
“In worse cases, paralysis can lead to incontinence,” Huo Shuyan added, frowning slightly, “Many people like to train dogs to stand, but that posture isn’t natural for them.”
This was Xu Ye’s first time hearing such information, so she asked Huo Shuyan several more questions. Meanwhile, Snowball alternated between looking around and glancing back at the two who saved it. They walked slowly together down the banyan tree-lined street.
Near the west gate, Xu Ye’s phone chimed twice.
In the residents’ group, a woman requested to add her as a friend with the note: “I’m the dog’s owner.”
Xu Ye and the woman exchanged information to confirm that she was indeed Snowball’s owner. She explained, under the pretense of “a friend saw it,” how the dog got stuck.
It seemed the troublesome kid was a repeat offender. Although the woman only replied with “I knew it,” Xu Ye felt she was absolutely livid.
They agreed to meet at the west gate in five minutes, and the woman thanked Xu Ye repeatedly.
Five minutes later, Snowball wagged its tail happily at the woman in business attire beside the security room.
The woman said she would definitely thank Xu Ye and Huo Shuyan properly in the future, but right now she had more important matters to deal with.
Xu Ye noticed the clenched fist next to the woman’s skirt and thought that the mischievous kid truly deserved what was coming.
The woman, practically fuming with anger, stormed into the community gates with steps that screamed “I won’t recognize relatives anymore.” Xu Ye felt quite content: “There are still good people in this world.”
She thought everything about finding the dog had gone smoothly. She picked the correct side of the street out of a 50/50 chance, met Huo Shuyan when she was at her wit’s end, contacted the owner quickly, and the dog’s owner had been very polite.
Huo Shuyan, unconcerned about the dirt on him, let his deep, calm eyes curve slightly into a smile. “If you run into any trouble, you can message me.”
Xu Ye went home, took a shower, tossed her dirty clothes into the washing machine, and opened Cat & Dog Alliance. She immediately received a private message from David sent a few minutes earlier.
[David: I heard you brought someone to rescue that user named ‘Snowball’? He posted a thread specifically thanking you.]
[Good Ye: Yes, he’s been taken home now.]
David didn’t reply. Xu Ye clicked into the dog forum and saw Snowball’s new thread.
Snowball was an honest dog. Not only did it start a new thread to thank Xu Ye, but it even highlighted her forum ID in the title.
[I’m home! This kindhearted friend @Good Ye brought someone to find me. Even though I didn’t see where you were, your tall and mighty image in my heart is like an unshakable mountain!]
Xu Ye: …
Highlighting her ID in a thank-you post was no different from announcing with a megaphone that “Good Ye is Xu Ye” to Huo Shuyan.
[2F: Good Ye friend, may good dogs live in peace forever. [/thumbs up/heart]]
[3F: There really are more good dogs in this world.]
[4F: (Good dogs live in peace.jpg)]
Underneath, netizens who had seen Snowball sent their congratulations on the dog’s safe return, sincerely wishing Xu Ye “good dogs live in peace forever.”
The fourth-floor user even posted an image of a happy dog, thoughtfully Photoshopping the words “Good Ye” onto its head.
Xu Good Dog Ye, showered with blessings for over ten comment floors, now felt like she was truly becoming a dog.
Among a stream of dog-themed comments, one netizen finally couldn’t hold back:
[17F: Is Good Ye a dog? Last time I saw him in the cat section playing games with David!]
Xu Ye’s eyebrows furrowed. She sensed that a simple matter was about to become complicated.
She would rather everyone continue wishing her “good dogs live in peace forever.”
Over the past two days, Xu Ye had observed the unspoken rules of the forum. The Cat Section and Dog Section operated independently, and while users could post in both areas, cats and dogs—due to their nature—generally ignored each other. It was an unspoken understanding to act like the other side didn’t exist. Only a rare few with exceptional “cat affinity” or “dog affinity” managed to get along in both sections.
Finding Snowball was just a trivial event, but to forum users whose lives were as calm as still water—spent mostly chatting and bickering—Xu Ye was now a heroic figure.
So, whether they were cat forum users or dog forum users, everyone wanted Xu Ye to belong to their side as a symbol of pride.
The user on the 17th floor singlehandedly derailed the thread’s theme of “good dogs live in peace,” sparking a debate as to what species Xu Ye belonged to. Cat fans flooded into the Dog Section, and Snowball’s pure thank-you post quickly turned into a guessing game about Xu Ye’s identity.
[18F: For Good Ye to find that dummy Snowball, he must have strong tracking instincts. He’s definitely a dog.]
[19F: Agreed. Cats can’t be this impressive.]
[20F: You dogs look down on cats? How dare you?]
[21F: David said Good Ye is really good at gaming, so he must be a cat. You dumb dogs could never have such quick reflexes.]
The argument escalated, and Xu Ye thought to herself, This is bad. My cover is about to be blown.
She watched helplessly as the cat and dog forum users devolved into heated bickering, silently hoping the administrator would step in and mute everyone.
By the 60th floor, the cats and dogs had reached a tentative agreement.
[61F: Whether you’re a cat or a dog, just show yourself and say it. Problem solved, right?]
Xu Ye remained silent, contemplating whether she could get away with declaring herself a pig and how likely the netizens were to believe it.
Author’s note:
Xu Ye: Actually, I’m a pearl…
David: No, you’re the old pig that’s been smeared onto the wall.
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