At night, Fu Shiyin washed up, took a look at Xiao'ai who was sleeping soundly, and adjusted the corners of her blanket again.
She saw her husband, Ge Tingzhi, sitting at the desk, staring at the painting Xiao'ai had made earlier.
"Why are you still looking at it? Aren't you going to sleep?"
"Oh, I'll go to sleep soon," Ge Tingzhi replied.
"What's up with Xiao'ai's drawing? Is something wrong with it?"
"No, she's just a child. Their drawings are all like this. It's just that I find the character in the drawing a bit peculiar."
Fu Shiyin said, "Let me see."
Ge Tingzhi passed the sheet of drawing paper to his wife, and Fu Shiyin took it and looked, "A person with a tail?"
"Hmm."
She looked up at Xiao'ai, who was sleeping, and took another look at the drawing on the paper, "Could it be that she watches too much TV?"
"That could be. Maybe I'm just overthinking things."