Pet Care Mini Classroom (5)

Big White flopped back into its original spot. “What a good-for-nothing glutton. The only thing that fits in its head is food.”

Though the words were disdainful, his tone was still one of relief.

At least it could talk. That was encouraging progress.

Feeling Baobao’s warmth, Chen Guan decided the meal hadn’t been a waste. As long as it didn’t call him Chen Gua, it was still his good Baobao.

“What are you planning to do next?”

White Tiger looked at the cheetah that knew how to say only one thing—hungry. “It can understand you now and express its basic needs. You can’t keep it sleeping in that alternate dimension forever. You need to give it an official identity.”

“An… identity?”

Seeing the subtle change in Chen Guan’s expression, White Tiger knew he had misunderstood. He helplessly clarified, “If a demon beast is registered, you can openly keep it by your side. You just can’t take it into the city center.”

“Since you’re already in the Northern Frontier, you might as well get the paperwork done. Old Wang is pretty easy to deal with.”

White Tiger wagged an index finger in front of Chen Guan’s face and began pouring out pet-raising and child-rearing advice like beans from a tipped bag.

“Once it has a legal identity, you can take it for walks along the commercial street, take it to Central Park, take it anywhere demon beasts are allowed to socialize in public. You could even walk it around your school.”

He rapped his knuckles against Baobao’s furry head. This time, Baobao didn’t resist him, so White Tiger happily stroked it.

“If you keep it cooped up like this, it’ll turn into a socially withdrawn cheetah sooner or later. The cost of seeing a psychologist could completely empty your wallet.”

Chen Guan lowered his eyes to the mutated beast at his feet, whose brain contained nothing but thoughts of food, and scoffed at the idea of psychological problems.

“Where do we go to do it?”

It wasn’t that he cared about the money. He had merely remembered the husky at Yin Chen’s house. He wanted to take Baobao out for a walk too. If other people had one, then his leopard should have one as well.

White Tiger looked smug. “This would definitely be difficult if it fell into anyone else’s hands, but fortunately, you ran into me.”

With that, he called someone right there on the spot. The moment the call connected, his lazy drawl instantly transformed into the warm familiarity of someone putting on an act.

“Old Wang, it’s me.”

“Chen Guan, the one we just met. Yes, that student. He has a leopard and wants to get it registered. Yes, yes, he found it in the Northern Frontier. The leopard insisted on coming home with him. Right, exactly. I’m taking him to the registration office now. Thank you, Old Wang.”

White Tiger stuffed the phone back into his pocket, brushed the snow from his knuckles, and raised his chin toward the base.

“Old Wang has everything arranged. We’ll head straight to the registration office, fill out the forms, and complete the procedure.”

…

It was called a registration office, but in reality, it was just a shabby little building.

When they pushed open the glass door, covered in scratches, the lobby was filled with a pungent mixture of cheap disinfectant and the rank, animal smell of various demon beasts’ fur.

Yellowing regulations were plastered all over the walls, while a small space heater in the corner flickered on and off.

A middle-aged man in uniform with thinning hair was dozing behind the counter. A suspicious string of glistening drool even hung from the corner of his mouth.

White Tiger rapped his knuckles against the counter without the slightest hesitation, producing a crisp sound.

“Comrade, we’re here to take care of some business.”

The middle-aged man woke with a start and raised his bleary eyes. After wiping his mouth, he pulled a wrinkled form from a drawer and slapped it onto the counter.

“Fill it out.”

His voice carried the lethargy of someone still suffering from a hangover. After speaking, he let out a huge yawn, forcing several tears from the corners of his eyes.

He wasn’t a soldier, merely an unlucky man transferred from the interior. Normally, he was responsible for stamping the paperwork of demon beasts captured in the wild, but he truly couldn’t adapt to the bitter cold here.

Chen Guan picked up the moldy-smelling form and scanned the densely packed list of requirements. His brow furrowed slightly.

“Comrade, Old Wang already spoke to you about this.”

White Tiger planted both hands on the counter and leaned forward, trying to melt the other man with his personal charm.

The middle-aged man didn’t even lift his eyelids. He picked up a chipped enamel mug from beside him and slowly took a sip of strong tea.

“Even if someone spoke to me, you still have to fill out the form. Procedure.”

As he spoke, he pointed to the already-yellowed Regulations on Demon Beast Household Registration hanging on the wall, its words nearly illegible.

He wasn’t afraid of some so-called Old Wang. If anything, he was praying that he would make a mistake and get sent back to the interior immediately.

“Procedure? I’m sure I can persuade you.”

White Tiger reached behind him and pulled out a thick wad of cash, overflowing with sincerity.

“Sir, you’ve won me over with your heartfelt feelings.”

The middle-aged man’s face instantly broke into a smile. He snatched up the form and filled out all the irrelevant sections in a few swift strokes, leaving only information such as the names blank.

“All right. You can write this part.”

White Tiger pushed the form in front of Chen Guan and pointed with his chin to the name field. “Time to give your pet a name.”

“It has a name.”

Chen Guan took out a pen and began filling in his own name. White Tiger curiously leaned over to look.

“It does? I thought you hadn’t named it.”

“Little Purple.”

“Awoooo.”

Baobao howled twice to express its displeasure, but Chen Guan misunderstood its meaning.

“You see? It says it really likes it.”

“That sounds nothing like disapproval!”

Big White let out a howl from the side, and the look it gave Baobao was filled with sympathy.

Their owners were truly equally hopeless—two people utterly incapable of naming things.

White Tiger, however, gave an approving thumbs-up. “What a lovely name!”

Big White: “…”

There was no saving them. Let the world end. Stupid humans.

What the hell was lovely about it?!

Big White buried its head even deeper and clamped its paws over its ears, deciding that the best way to keep the peace was to hear nothing.

Sorry, leopard brother. I can’t save you. Brother, I’m really useless. I really am.

“Awoooo.”

Baobao continued with its final howl of protest, trying to awaken its master’s conscience. Unfortunately, Chen Guan had already put pen to paper and neatly written the two characters for Little Purple in the pet’s name field.

“All done.”

The middle-aged man took the form and swept his murky eyes over it. He pulled a red stamp from the drawer, breathed on it, and brought it down with a thump.

Then he casually tossed the form into an archive basket that was nearly overflowing, the motion practiced from long repetition.

“That’s it. The procedure’s complete. The electronic certificate has already been sent to your email.”

The man clapped his hands, sat back down, and picked up his enamel mug, preparing to resume his nap.

“Awooo! Awooo, awooo!”

Baobao completely lost its temper.

It ran frantically around Chen Guan’s legs, its purple tail lashing through the air like a steel whip. Aggrieved protests squeezed from its throat.

“You see? It’s very excited. It really likes its new name.”

With an expressionless face, Chen Guan bent down and pressed a hand to Baobao’s head, restraining its urge to leap up and tear the file to pieces.

Big White gathered its courage. “You’re being a little disrespectful of leopard rights. Look how wronged it looks. A name is a mark that stays with you for life—you can’t choose one so carelessly.”

Baobao nodded furiously, gazing at Big White with gratitude. It could hardly wait to pledge itself to him.

Chen Guan looked utterly baffled. “No, it isn’t. Doesn’t it like the name?”