How to Tame a Mad Dog - Chapter 1

Chapter 1
Han Yang once told me that back in high school, he was like a rabid dog-he bit anyone he saw.

I didn’t believe him at the time.

Not until eighteen-year-old Han Yang emerged from an alley like some juvenile delinquent. Then I believed it.

I stared at him openly, sizing him up, until he stopped in front of me with a face full of displeasure.

After finally seeing the person I’d missed for two years, shouldn’t I have been so emotional I burst into tears?

But I was probably not normal.

Because the first time I laid eyes on Han Yang, I liked him so much I could hardly stand it.
I thought back to the first time I met Han Yang.

In the fighting ring, twenty-eight-year-old Han Yang defeated one opponent after another.

But despite being a man with no record to his name who kept claiming victory, his eyes were filled with a dead, ashen emptiness.

I didn’t like men, but his eyes piqued my interest.

I wanted to know what he would be like in bed.

Han Yang had a backbone. He would rather leave himself covered in injuries than come anywhere near me.

After several rounds of this, I still hadn’t touched him, yet Han Yang had already tortured himself until he was battered all over.

I admired him, so I changed tactics. I started pursuing him.

No matter how he rejected me, I refused to give up.

And so I wore him down for three years.

Exactly three years after I began pursuing Han Yang, we finally started dating.

And in the first month of our relationship, Han Yang died.

He died blocking a knife for me.

When Han Yang was declared dead, I was quite calm.

I dealt with the killer, handled his funeral, and stared at the urn of ashes in the room.

At first, I thought I was fine. Only later did I realize that it wasn’t calmness. It was depression.

Because I couldn’t understand why I was depressed, I ended my own life.

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying back in my own bed.

I had fallen back to when I was twenty-one, the year Han Yang had just come of age.

Now that he was closer, I saw that the pants Han Yang wore looked very old. They had been washed until they were a little faded, and they were too small, leaving his ankles exposed even in late autumn.

At this time, Han Yang should clearly have been a college freshman. Why was he wandering around outside in a high school uniform?

I couldn’t help frowning.

But before I could think too much, Han Yang grabbed my cheek, forcing my lowered head up until my eyes met his.

“Who the hell were you staring at just now? Your father? Asking for a beating?”

Me: “…”

He really was like a rabid dog.
The corner of my mouth twitched.

The worsening pain in my face forced me out of my memories, and the face before me overlapped with Han Yang’s.

At eighteen, Han Yang had a trace more youthfulness than before. Though he wasn’t as tall as he would be later, the ferocity in him had not diminished in the slightest.

“What, are you fucking mute?”

Looking at the person I had missed for so many years, I restrained my own nature and reached out to hug him.

Perhaps because he was too stunned, Han Yang didn’t manage to push me away right away. He only froze in place.

My hands roamed over him. Right now, he was far too thin. I could feel bone wherever I touched-hard against my palms, nowhere near as nice to touch as the Han Yang of later years.

Only then did Han Yang react and yank me away from him. “Are you insane?”

My gaze shifted away from the zipper I had rubbed open and landed on Han Yang’s lips as they opened and closed.

“I’ll keep you. How does that sound? How much do you want a month? Five hundred thousand? A million?”

Han Yang’s expression froze for a split second. Then, as if he’d touched something filthy, he shoved me aside.

“Fuck. That’s disgusting.”

With that, Han Yang turned to leave.

I grabbed his wrist at once. “Where are you going? Weren’t you just asking if I was asking for a beating?”

“Honestly, I kind of am. Can you beat me up?”

Han Yang paused slightly, stunned. But very quickly, it was like he’d heard some kind of joke, and he started laughing.

“Seriously, what kind of psycho did I run into?”

Han Yang led me into a hidden alley. He casually tossed the backpack on his shoulder aside and rolled his wrist at me.

“I’m warning you now, I don’t know how to hold back. You’d better protect your head. Don’t come crying to me for compensation when your teeth get knocked out.”

I copied him and rolled my wrist too. “If I win, how about you let me kiss you?”

Han Yang’s face darkened even more. He pointed at my nose and cursed, “I swear, there really is something wrong with your brain! Say one more word and see if I don’t cripple you!”

The moment he finished speaking, he raised his hand and swung at my face.

I didn’t have time to react. I took a punch to the face, and soon I was tangled up in a fight with Han Yang.

At thirty-one, Han Yang had a strong build. Years of fighting experience had not only given him plenty of techniques for beating people up, but also a body full of hard, lean muscle.

I knew Han Yang was absolutely ruthless when he hit people, and I would never willingly put myself in front of him to ask for a beating.

But the Han Yang in front of me now was different.

He was too thin, and he was still injured.

It didn’t take much effort for me to knock him flat onto the ground.

Han Yang sat sprawled on the ground, his features twisted together from the pain, but when he looked at me, his eyes were still full of ferocity.

His chest rose and fell. With both arms braced against the ground, he looked like he still wanted to get up and keep beating me.

I really couldn’t take it anymore. I dropped to my knees in front of him, straddled him, grabbed his collar, and kissed him.

While he was completely unprepared, I easily tangled myself up with him.

Han Yang’s body went instantly rigid. Once he realized what I was doing, he started shoving and punching me like crazy.

For every punch he threw, I bit him once. No matter what, I kept his tongue caught between my teeth and refused to let go.

Han Yang was furious. He used every move he could think of, even raking his nails over me.

Han Yang’s nails weren’t long. They had been trimmed, neat and clean, but he was strong enough that he still clawed several strips of skin off me.

I hissed in pain, then raised my hand and punched him hard in the lower abdomen.

Han Yang’s muffled groan was swallowed by my mouth.

His brows drew even tighter together, and the hand that had been scratching at me fell away.

Finally, he was behaving.

I pulled back slightly, my lips brushing his as I reminded him, “If you don’t want to suffocate, breathe.”

After that, I covered his mouth again.

This time, Han Yang had learned. He stopped hitting me and chased after my tongue to bite it instead.

The two of us bit each other back and forth until our mouths were filled with the awful taste of rust.

Han Yang looked incredibly pleased with himself. When he raised an eyebrow at me, he still had the tip of my tongue clenched firmly between his teeth.

I looked at him as my palm slipped upward from the hem of his shirt, my fingertips pressing against his chest.

Han Yang’s expression tightened, and he couldn’t look smug anymore.