Mew! The little rabbit tilted its head, watching Lang Lin with curiosity. What is this human eating? Rabbit has never seen such food before.
Of course, a snow rabbit had never known rice. From birth it had lived in the frozen lands, far removed from the outside world. Yet it was no stranger to humans either, for hunters often wandered its homeland. To the rabbit's eyes, however, all those humans had seemed rather foolish.
Unlike normal rabbits, this one had survived on fish, catching them fresh from beneath the ice. Strange for a rabbit perhaps, but natural for one born of another dimension.
Mew! It smells nice… but it's hot. Rabbit doesn't like hot things. How can the human eat that?
The steaming bowl made the creature frown, its fur ruffling uneasily. Heat was something it detested.
"What's wrong, aren't you going to eat?" Lang Lin asked, amused by the way the little rabbit stared at him, blinking its big eyes so adorably.
"What do rabbits usually eat anyway?" he murmured to himself. He had never owned a pet before. Bringing it back had been nothing but a whim born of loneliness. He hadn't eaten with anyone in so long that he could not even recall the last time. Tonight, he wasn't alone—not with the rabbit sharing his table.
"Ah, I see." His eyes lit with an idea. The rabbit narrowed its gaze at him, wary of his expression.
"You grew up in an icy land, so you probably hate hot food. Easy fix." He poured bottled water over the rabbit's bowl, cooling the rice until it was bland and lukewarm. "There, much better. It might not taste great, but I'm sure it's fine."
Mew! The rabbit lifted a tiny paw, as if giving him a thumbs-up. Clever human! It dipped its little hands into the bowl, nibbling the cooled rice with surprising satisfaction.
Somehow, the combination of rice and water was refreshing, even delicious—at least to the rabbit, who had never tasted such food before.
Lang Lin's own rice, though, was stale and musty. It filled his belly but hardly his taste buds. Still, he ate without complaint. Complaining would not make the rice any better.
When the meal was finished, he had no water left to wash the bowls. He sighed, glancing at the rabbit now sprawled on its back, belly round and full.
"You liked it, didn't you?" Lang Lin smiled at the sight.
Mew! It wasn't bad, human. Not as good as fish, but acceptable.
Not understanding its chatter, he assumed it wanted affection and rubbed its belly. The rabbit, displeased to be touched so soon after eating, batted his hand away and hopped to the backyard. It settled beneath a tree, where the mountain air was cool and calm.
Lang Lin let it be. He himself returned inside. Though the house was dusty and unpleasant, he chose the larger living room to sleep in. Exhausted, he collapsed onto the floor and drifted into slumber almost instantly.
When he woke, it was already hot, sunlight spilling through the windows. A small weight pressed on his chest. The rabbit sat there, tiny paws miming the act of eating.
Lang Lin laughed. "Hungry already, little one?" He hadn't expected such a clever form of communication. Animals from other dimensions, it seemed, were smarter than those on Earth.
He fetched water from the mountain spring, bathed, and cooked rice again. Once more, they ate together, the rabbit patting its belly in bliss.
Lang Lin scratched its head gently. "I've got errands today, but I'll be back soon. Guard the house for me, okay?"
Mew! The rabbit hopped onto his shoulder, waving a tiny paw as if insisting it wanted to come.
"You can't. Where I'm going, pets aren't allowed," he said with a rueful smile, lifting it down.
Mew… The little rabbit looked reluctant, fearful he would leave and never return. Yet his sincere tone reassured it, and with a small wave it agreed to wait.
Thus, Lang Lin set off, his crippled leg dragging along the path. Passersby stared—some with pity, others with scorn. Once, such looks had crushed him. Now, he had grown numb. Their eyes meant nothing. They weren't part of his life, so why should he care?
By evening, he returned drenched in sweat, face darkened by the sun. He had visited both the electricity and water offices. Service would be restored tomorrow, they told him. For tonight, the house would remain dark.
His wallet now held only 1,000 yuan. After paying fees, he had bought bottled water and instant noodles—the cheapest food, enough to survive on for months if needed. Not healthy, but necessary.
Once, he had dreamed of raising chickens, pigs, or growing vegetables to sustain himself. But since the Spatial Ring appeared, those plans seemed trivial. Even if his first venture into another world had yielded nothing but a small rabbit, it proved the ring's power. Next time, who knew? Treasure, perhaps. Gold. Riches beyond imagining.
For now, he consoled himself with hope—and maybe a bit of daydreaming.
That night, he and the rabbit shared another simple meal before cleaning the house together. The little creature offered little real help, but its presence warmed him, as if he finally had family again.
When at last the rooms were tidied, he collapsed into sleep, weary but content. Three days remained until he could open the dimensional gate again.
He longed for it already.