Otaku Translation: Honey Badger's Streaming Life C87

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The more he lay there, the more restless Wang Ping became. Finally, he slid off the bed and climbed onto the windowsill opposite, gripping the window frame as he breathed in the fresh air from the courtyard below. The small Western-style house was perched on elevated ground, nestled at the edge of Shengjiawu and backed by tea-covered hills, offering a perfect vantage point to overlook the entire village. In the distance, the faint crowing of roosters echoed through the stillness.

A rustling sound came from the yard, and Wang Ping glanced down. Emerging from what could only be described as the ugliest doghouse ever built was Dahei, tail wagging as it trotted toward the house. Moments later, the sound of a door opening reverberated from the first-floor living room, followed by the soft padding of paws against wooden floors.

Wang Ping thought back to what Gu Lang had said yesterday—Dahei patrolled the mountain every morning and afternoon. After a moment’s deliberation, he hopped off the windowsill and scampered toward the entrance. Perhaps taking a stroll up the mountain would help clear his mind.

Bounding down the stairs two steps at a time, Wang Ping misjudged the final leap and tumbled head over heels onto the tiled floor below. Shaking his dizzy head, he followed the sounds into the kitchen. There, Dahei stood with a small stainless-steel bowl clamped firmly in its jaws, catching kibble from an automatic feeder. Catching sight of Wang Ping at the doorway, Dahei gave a casual wag of its tail—a silent greeting.

Once the bowl was half-filled, the feeder stopped dispensing food. Dahei dragged it aside and began eating its breakfast. But after a couple of bites, it paused, seemingly remembering that someone else was watching. Turning to look at Wang Ping, Dahei lifted one paw and nudged the bowl slightly in his direction.

Wang Ping: “….”

Ignoring the overly enthusiastic canine, Wang Ping turned away and made his way outside. He settled himself on the concrete steps leading up to the house, gazing blankly at the dark sky above. Lost in thought, he barely noticed when the door creaked open behind him. Dahei ambled out, tongue lolling, and sniffed lightly near Wang Ping before settling down beside him.

“?”

Wang Ping shot the dog a puzzled glance. Weren’t you supposed to go patrol the mountain? What are you doing sitting here?

Unlike Wang Ping’s quiet contemplation, Dahei seemed restless. Every few minutes, it’d glance back toward Grandma Sheng’s bedroom, ears pricking for any sign of movement. When no sound came, it’d return his attention to the courtyard. This routine repeated itself for nearly fifteen minutes until the horizon began to lighten with the first hints of dawn. Rooster calls grew louder and more frequent across the village. Still, Grandma Sheng hadn’t appeared. Finally, Dahei stood up, muttered something incomprehensible under its breath, and waddled toward the gate, tail swishing lazily.

“So this guy was waiting for Grandma Sheng,” Wang Ping realized. Earlier, Gu Lang had mentioned that Dahei used to accompany Grandma Sheng on her patrols but had recently started going alone. It seemed this ritual of waiting persisted each morning.

As Dahei reached the gate, Wang Ping scrambled after it. Just as the dog began pawing at the latch of a smaller door within the larger gate, Wang Ping leapt onto its back and pulled the bolt free.

“Woof~”

Startled, Dahei shuddered beneath Wang Ping’s weight. A few misplaced stomps sent the dog stumbling backward, nearly toppling over. Regaining his balance, Dahei froze, its ears twitching indignantly while Wang Ping clung to one, pinching hard enough to make the poor mutt squint and bare its teeth.

Unlike most village dogs, Dahei wore a collar adorned with a bone-shaped tag. Curious, Wang Ping snatched it up and examined it. Inscribed were Gu Lang’s phone number and a cheeky message:

“Don’t kill me; my dad’s loaded!”

Typical Gu Lang’s nonsense.

Releasing the tag, Wang Ping grabbed hold of Dahei’s collar and hoisted himself onto the dog’s neck, settling comfortably like a rider atop a steed.

Dahei looked utterly baffled. For a moment, it simply stood there, glancing back toward the house as if hoping someone might intervene. When no such savior arrived, Wang Ping slapped the dog lightly on the head, signaling it to get moving.

But the gesture triggered an odd memory. For a fleeting second, Wang Ping imagined himself riding Rosette instead. If it had been Rosette, the leopard would’ve taken off sprinting the instant Wang Ping gave the signal—not like this sulky dog, whose face now bore an expression of wounded pride. Was it grumbling curses under its breath?

Wang Ping blinked.

I didn’t even hit you that hard! Why so dramatic?

After a brief pause, Dahei decided not to waste any more time. Pushing open the side gate, it stepped out onto the path leading away from the house.

Rather than heading straight toward the tea plantation, however, Dahei veered toward the heart of the village, carrying Wang Ping along for the ride. Unfazed, Wang Ping sat securely on the dog’s back, observing the homes they passed. It was clear that Shengjiawu enjoyed a decent standard of living. Whether due to Grandma Sheng’s influence or not, each household boasted well-maintained porches, and many had even built two-story houses. None, though, matched the grandeur of Grandma Sheng’s estate, which featured both sprawling gardens and towering architecture.

Eventually, Dahei led Wang Ping to the northwest corner of the village, stopping outside a red-painted gate. Raising a paw, it began pounding on it with surprising enthusiasm.

“Woof woof!”

Instant chaos erupted inside. Another dog—distinctly different from Dahei—barked furiously, and a light flickered on in one of the rooms visible through the cracks in the gate.

Oh crap! This idiotic mutt!

Wang Ping grimaced, debating whether to flee before things escalated. Would they blame him for trespassing? Before he could decide, Dahei plopped down calmly outside the gate, apparently unfazed.

Soon, the sound of a window opening drifted out, accompanied by a groggy male voice. “Is that you, Dahei?”

“Woof!”

Dahei barked once in response.

“Oh, what time is it? Go ahead without me—I’m going back to sleep!” The man yawned audibly.

Ah, Wang Ping thought, so this must be the person Grandma Sheng hired to help patrol the mountains. Sloppy human. No wonder she relies on Dahei instead.

“Woof!”

Dahei barked again, rising to leave. But just as it turned to go, he paused—and to Wang Ping’s utter disbelief—lifted its hind leg and urinated all over the crimson gate.

“WOOF WOOF!”

The other dog inside went berserk, rattling its chain and clawing at the ground in outrage.

“Ahuang! You stupid mutt, can’t you shut up and let me catch some Zs? Keep barking, and you won’t get your bones today!”

The man’s irritated voice rang out again, this time directed at his own disobedient pet.

Wang Ping couldn’t suppress a chuckle. His earlier gloom lifted somewhat as he watched the absurd scene unfold. With a satisfied shake, Dahei trotted eastward, whistling (or so it seemed) as it went.

Back at Grandma Sheng’s house, Dahei paused briefly, listening intently for any signs of life in the courtyard. Hearing none, it pivoted northward and set off along the narrow path winding toward the rear hills.

By now, the sky had begun to brighten, and dewdrops clung to blades of grass and leaves lining the trail. A thin mist hovered among the distant trees, carried gently by the breeze. The crisp scent of tea leaves mingled with the cool morning air, sharpening Wang Ping’s senses.

Panting softly, Dahei bounded ahead, navigating the forest with practiced ease as they ascended higher into the hills.

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