Hunger taught me something important:
Humans with different license plates behave completely differently.
Cars from Guangdong always smelled of cakes and milk tea.
Those drivers loved sweets.
But they were timid.
If I so much as stepped toward them, they instantly locked their doors, started the engine, and sped off like I was a bomb.
Cars from Chengdu were much more generous.
Those drivers laughed loudly and tossed snacks from the window.
Unfortunately, they liked spicy sticks—
and eating too many of those burned on the way out.
The worst were Beijing plates.
Their alertness level was absurdly high.
If they felt even a hint of "danger,"
they called the police without hesitation.
Some people didn't respond at all.
They simply filmed me with their phones, laughing:
"Look at this wolf pretending to be a dog, what a joke!"
These mixed reactions made one thing incredibly clear:
If I wanted better success rates, I couldn't act blindly.
So I began studying license plates and recording the behavior of each group.
Shanghai drivers often traveled with kids,
and kids loved teasing animals.
Zhejiang drivers were obsessed with hygiene.
They would never toss food directly—
they'd place it on a napkin first, then hand it over carefully.
Patterns started to emerge.
After a few days of trial and error, I came up with a three-step begging routine:
Step 1: Wag my tail three times fast—friendly greeting.
Step 2: Flip onto my back and show my soft belly—harmless.
Step 3: Stay perfectly still—wait for their reaction.
It looked simple, but it worked wonders on nervous humans.
More importantly—
A wolf doing these actions was inherently interesting.
My success rate shot up by 300%.
People finally began stopping, offering me bread or biscuits.
But I knew this wasn't enough.
If I wanted real attention, I needed something special.
One evening, a small car with a Guangdong plate pulled over.
A young woman stepped out to take photos, holding an egg-yolk pie in her hand.
An idea struck me—
I lifted one paw
and awkwardly made a "V" sign.
The movement was clumsy,
but unusual enough to be memorable.
She froze for a moment.
Then burst into laughter.
"Oh my god, this wolf is so smart!"
Not only did she toss me the egg-yolk pie,
she snapped several photos with her phone.
The next day, the video appeared online with the title:
"Cutest 'Wolf-Dog' Ever — Challenging Humanity's Bottom Line!"
The comment section exploded instantly:
"Is this a wolf or a dog?? Too cute!"
"It can make a V-sign?! Insane!"
"Drop the location! I'm driving there to feed it myself!"
The video went viral.
And my image spread across the entire internet.
From that day on, more and more people came specifically to see me—
to take photos, record videos, imitate my "Three Wags and One Flip."
Some kids even copied me, holding up their fingers in a "V."
At night, I lay across the milestone marker on Route 315, watching the distant headlights.
The wind blew softly, and a thought rose in me:
Maybe… staying alive could actually be simple.
But in the eyes of the wolf pack,
even "staying alive" was a crime I wasn't allowed to commit.