Wen Xiangyang walked to the door, opened it, and saw Mo Lao Si, leaning against the door with a careless and sloppy demeanor, together with a completely white and translucent foxhound.
This foxhound, only the size of two palms, was curled up in Mo Lao Si's arms, looking up at Wen Xiangyang with its wet eyes, pitiful and teary.
"Babe, do you not welcome me inside?" Mo Lao Si leaned against the door without any proper posture, petting the foxhound in his arms, his laughter filled with wickedness and showing off.
In the past three months, Mo Lao Si became one of the few regular visitors at Wen Xiangyang's home.
Yan Xin didn't know Mo Lao Si's true identity, thinking that he was just a friend Wen Xiangyang had recently made outside. Over the past three months, she took good care of Mo Lao Si, which only led to his increased frequency of visits.
Wen Xiangyang wanted to send him away but found it difficult to do so.