And so it went.
Qin Zhan arrived at the backyard dog kennel.
Here he kept all his beloved dogs, each one bringing him great wealth and were his precious treasures.
But now.
He went straight to the eighth kennel, where the very weak native dog was.
Because its body was covered with scars, the staff had injected it with anesthesia, and they were stitching up its wounds at the moment.
Looking at the Grey Jiao lying on the ground receiving treatment, Qin Zhan squatted down, gently stroked its head, then turned to the staff, "How is this guy's injury?"
A staff member replied, "Young master, its injuries aren't serious. After a rest of ten days or so, it can fight again!"
Qin Zhan's eyes were filled with tenderness, "I can't bear to let this guy fight again. If it fights, I'll end up losing even my underwear."
Qin Zhan liked dogs and used them to make money.
But this dog before him was not like the others.