Otaku Translation: Honey Badger's Streaming Life C83

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As Gu Lang often put it, ever since he was born, gadgets like computers and gaming consoles had been a constant presence in his life. The moment a new model hit the market, it would magically appear in his hands, sometimes even before he’d unboxed the previous one. This trend continued well into adulthood, when gifts of physical items gave way to cold, hard digits deposited into his bank account.

For Gu Lang, these machines were more than just toys—they represented the emotional distance between him and his parents. His childhood memories of them were tied to these cold, impersonal devices. As a result, even when his parents tried to bridge that gap now, it felt awkward and forced. Gu Lang’s mother frequently complained that her son had grown distant, while Gu Lang occasionally felt guilty about it. But Wang Ping didn’t think it was Gu Lang’s fault.

The laptop in question was Apple’s latest model. Judging by the thick layer of dust on its surface, though, it hadn’t been touched in ages. Wang Ping sat deep in thought. If Gu Lang really had other laptops lying around unused, maybe he could snag one for himself?

Everyone has secrets—even badgers.

Sure, Wang Ping could probably get away with using Gu Lang’s tablet or phone whenever he wanted. Even borrowing the laptop wouldn’t raise too many eyebrows. But there was no way Wang Ping wanted anyone knowing what he did online, especially not his browsing history. That was something he kept private even back when he was human.

There’s a difference between aimlessly clicking around with paws on a mouse and deliberately typing out searches. The former could be dismissed as animal curiosity or cleverness, but the latter? Well, let’s just say it would raise some serious questions—questions that might lead to unpleasant consequences. So if he wanted true internet freedom, having his own dedicated computer was the safest bet.

This time, Wang Ping decided to keep his plans from Gu Lang.

….

At dinner, Grandma Sheng spent most of the meal berating Dahei. Apparently, during its patrol through the mountains, the dog had once again licked a lollipop out of some poor village child’s hand. The kid’s parents had stormed over, their crying toddler in tow, to lodge a complaint with Grandma Sheng.

Grandma Sheng’s use of the word “again” was particularly telling. Wang Ping perched on a chair next to the outdoor dining table, gnawing on a rib bone bigger than his own head. Despite Dahei’s dopey appearance, Wang Ping couldn’t help but think the dog’s personality was just as bad as its looks.

Given Wang Ping’s current status as a pet, climbing onto the dining table was strictly forbidden under Grandma Sheng’s rules. If he dared set so much as a paw on the tabletop, she’d have no qualms about teaching him a lesson with her trusty rolling pin. But honestly, Wang Ping had zero interest in joining the humans at the table. He wasn’t a dish of food, after all. What was he supposed to do up there? Have a picnic?

Still, it stung a little that Grandma Sheng hadn’t bothered setting out a chair for him. Flaring his teeth at her? Not an option—at least not yet.

Thankfully, Gu Lang came to the rescue, cheerfully adding an extra chair to the table. Crisis averted.

Dahei stood beside the chair, tongue lolling, eyes fixed on the bone in Wang Ping’s paws. Itts tail wagged furiously as he completely ignored Grandma Sheng’s scolding.

Wang Ping knew damn well the dog understood every word. During the day, whenever Grandma Sheng called out “Dahei,” no matter how softly, the dog would leap off his cushion in the living room and trot over to her, tail wagging and ready to charm. Now, though, despite her repeated calls, Dahei acted as if it were deaf, staring intently at Wang Ping’s meal. Occasionally, its gaze would flick nervously toward Grandma Sheng before darting back to the bone.

If Dahei claimed it didn’t know who Grandma Sheng was yelling at, Wang Ping would write his name upside down.

This little routine was clearly part of the household dynamic—a performance of sorts, where the dog pretended to be oblivious, and Grandma Sheng played along, pretending not to notice. It was almost... heartwarming.

"Hmph," Wang Ping muttered under his breath, raising his greasy paw and flinging the half-eaten bone across the yard.

“Woof!” Dahei barked, bolting after it. With perfect timing, it leapt into the air, catching the bone mid-flight, then trotted back triumphantly, tail wagging.

“Tsk…” Grandma Sheng shot a disapproving glance at Wang Ping, who was clearly teasing her precious dog. Turning to Gu Lang, she said, “Why does Huan Huan, this little thing, have such a nasty temperament?”

Wang Ping froze mid-chew, his mood plummeting. Huan Huan? Seriously? What kind of ridiculous name was that?

“Pfft…” Gu Lang, who’d been shoveling rice into his mouth, nearly choked laughing. He glanced at Wang Ping’s exasperated expression and struggled to suppress his grin.

Once he’d regained composure, Gu Lang launched into another exaggerated retelling of Wang Ping’s backstory—the “legendary” version, complete with wild speculation and embellishments.

“Oh, so you’re saying it escaped from a circus? And then… uh, not only saved a leopard but also somehow got here?” Grandma Sheng asked, wide-eyed.

She reached over, plucked a spare rib from the serving plate, and handed it to Wang Ping. Then, without missing a beat, she pinched his furry little cheek.

Wang Ping sighed internally. Fine. For the sake of Gu Lang—and the delicious rib—he’d let it slide.

Damn, this rib really was good.

Dahei looked longingly at the juicy bone in Wang Ping’s paw, then down at the slobber-covered one it’d been chewing on. Confusion flickered across its face. Why did this guy always get fresh food while he was stuck with leftovers?

But dogs, as they say, live in the moment. Within seconds, Dahei had polished off the old bone and returned to staring wistfully at Wang Ping’s meal, tail wagging hopefully.

…..

Grandma Sheng’s attitude toward Wang Ping shifted dramatically when Gu Lang recounted how he’d fallen ill with a high fever on the savanna.

He hadn’t mentioned it earlier because talking about it in front of his parents would only worry them unnecessarily. Besides, dealing with their overly emotional concern left him drained. Especially his mother, who tended to burst into tears and apologize profusely, leaving Gu Lang baffled about what he’d supposedly done wrong.

Then there were the lingering mysteries surrounding that trip. How exactly had he traveled such a vast distance—from Maasai Mara to Ngorongoro Crater? And how had his car ended up there too, seemingly driven by someone else?

Gu Lang chose not to dwell on those questions, focusing instead on sharing select details with Grandma Sheng.

When she heard that her grandson had nearly died on the savanna, only to be nursed back to health by a certain small, rib-gnawing creature, her anger at Gu Lang quickly turned to affection for Wang Ping.

“Well, I’ll admit, it’s not the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” she said, ruffling Wang Ping’s fur. “But look at it now—it’s actually quite cute!” She picked out the largest rib from the plate and shoved it into Wang Ping’s arms, then took the half-chewed bone from him and tossed it to Dahei, who’d been waiting patiently.

Wang Ping shuddered inwardly. Just like that, he’d gone from “not the prettiest” to “cute.” Only Grandma Sheng could pull off such a seamless attitude adjustment.

Truly, the woman was a force to be reckoned with.

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