After washing up again, Song Tan still ended up yanking the soundly sleeping Datian out of bed.
"How did this thing end up in our home?"
So now it's "our home," huh?
Somehow, those three homely words coming out of Song Tan's mouth had such a lived-in feel that Lun Chuan, leaning against the doorframe, couldn't help but let a smile slip.
Then he looked at the chubby, helpless Datian hanging limply by its four limbs and cleared his throat: "It's too honest. It keeps getting beaten up at home and doesn't eat well either."
"Mainly, I'm afraid Qiaoqiao will feel bad when he goes back and sees it."
Song Tan: "..."
Has it occurred to you that what you're raising is a field mouse, not a hamster? You're a field mouse getting your ass kicked every day—don't you feel even a little ashamed?
