Chapter 325: They All Call Me Fat Cat Brother!

“Alright, the video’s done, Xiao’an can go back to sleep now!”

“Later, I’ll treat you to a big meal and top up your Fox Kingdom membership card with two thousand.”

After kissing and hugging the face-hugging fox, Aqing patted the little fox’s butt, signaling him to go back to sleep.

The short video we just filmed, though mostly for entertainment, isn’t entirely fake.

Things like action cameras, custom gimbals, and flagship-level photography phones all need to be bought.

Of course.

The cost of these productivity tools doesn’t need to come from Xiao’an’s dowry—Aqing’s share of over ten thousand yuan is enough to cover this expense.

The reason she wanted to buy a custom gimbal was because Aqing had considered one issue.

After school starts, her focus will shift to studying; she can still manage livestreams, but she won’t be able to take viewers hiking through mountains and introducing them to wild animals like she did during summer vacation.

I mean, you can’t livestream while memorizing textbooks, right?

So Aqing remembered a video she’d seen before on the Yinfu platform.

It was a blogger who strapped an action camera onto a Border Collie and ran wild across a grassland.

Inspired by the video, Aqing thought she could do something similar.

The custom gimbal would be lightened, the flagship camera phone would be a lightweight small-screen model, then taken apart later and fitted with lighter materials.

After all this modification, Aqing wasn’t sure if fifteen thousand would be enough—if not, she’d take some from her dowry to make up the difference for Xiao’an.

It’s expensive, yes.

But Aqing felt it was worth it: first, it lets Xiao’an lead viewers on tours.

And while she’s in class, she can watch the livestream to see what Xiao’an’s doing, preventing some bad person from snatching him away.

People today are terrible.

Aqing once saw a video: a show-quality cat slipped out of its breeding facility, and the moment it stepped outside, the owner of the opposite dog kennel caught it and clipped off two bells.

There’s video proof.

Add to that her experience with street robberies, and Aqing felt a faint worry about the complex crowds in tourist cities.

Stealing the livestream gear is one thing—but don’t you dare clip off Xiao’an’s bells.

………………

“Already awake? What’s the point of sleeping now!” An Sheng lay on Aqing’s bed, muttering under his breath.

After the video shoot ended, Tang You and Lingren both wanted to pet the fox.

Little An, a fluffy, non-shedding, non-fading animal, was extremely adorable, and foxes were also considered auspicious creatures with mystical blessings.

But when the counselor posted a notice in the group asking all students to download and read the paper, everyone—including Aqing and her roommates—slumped into their seats and started flipping through the counselor’s paper.

An Sheng leaned over to take a peek.

“Research Must Serve the Economy”

1. From Paper to Application.

2. From Resource-Oriented to Demand-Oriented.

The opening summary read: 【How many ways are there to write the character ‘hui’ in a dish of stir-fried fennel seeds? I’m sure my students have many answers.】

【But let me remind you one thing.】

【Where are the fennel seeds I picked for my liquor? Who cares how you write ‘hui’? Do you care? Personally, I don’t give a damn. If you can’t serve me the seeds, you won’t make my money—and you’ll go bankrupt!】

【The same logic applies to research. If you want to deeply pursue this field, you must produce real results. Past practices of churning out empty papers aren’t just meaningless—I’ll say this plainly.】

【Take the back roads, enter narrow gates, till barren fields.】

【Work yourselves to death.】

An Sheng stared blankly at the opening of the paper, his expression stunned.

Can this really be turned into a research paper?

An Sheng understood the point—but this paper from the counselor felt absurdly pragmatic.

Or was the new Nongxue Academy’s education policy- or market-driven?

“Suck-suck-suck”

Seeing the little fox jump onto her lap, Aqing, who had been pondering the paper, noticed the fox placing both paws on the desk as if reading the document.

Aqing found it hilarious and playfully tickled the fox’s chin, triggering her canine-specific attack.

“Go away, go away!”

Hearing the “suck-suck-suck” sound, An Sheng rolled his eyes, lifted his tiny paw, and swatted Aqing’s hand away from his belly: “You treating me like a dog?”

An Sheng jumped off Aqing, glanced at the wall clock, then from Lingren’s desk drawer, snatched a bag of cucumber-flavored chips and trotted straight to the windowsill, then dashed down the dorm corridor.

“Xiao’an! Don’t play too long—we’re going out for lunch soon!”

Aqing called after Xiao’an as he left.

“Mmm—”

The muffled whimper drifted into the room, and Aqing suddenly remembered—had Xiao’an stolen the chips?

“Oh no! Xiao’an can’t eat the packaging, can he?”

…………

Exiting the dorm building, the little fox politely kept to the side, perfectly avoiding the crowd, then leaped up and pressed the elevator button with all four paws. Riding the elevator past the dorm supervisor’s room, the supervisor watched the fox dragging chips and kept silent, as if golden silence were the rule.

“The administration building is across from the teaching building, right?” An Sheng stood on his hind legs, studying the map, found the school office’s location, and strolled toward it.

An Sheng walked cheerfully toward the principal’s office.

In his mind, he was already imagining the joy of eating chips on the principal’s sofa—and the principal’s fury upon seeing the sofa covered in chip crumbs.

“I’m such a mischievous fox.”

An Sheng checked the door sign, confirmed the door ahead led to the principal’s office, then stood on his hind legs, preparing to use brute force to snap the lock’s core open.

But when An Sheng gripped the round doorknob, he turned it effortlessly—the door swung open, revealing a blast of cold air and a scent of fresh grass.

An Sheng froze, then pushed the door fully open.

Inside the principal’s office sat a fat, brown panda, its back to the door, left paw resting on the computer screen, right paw on the printer, straining hard to defecate.

The panda’s tail was raised, and a massive pile of panda poop slid out from its rear.

On the polished floor tiles, two fresh, steaming piles already lay piled up.

And on the glazed floor tiles of the office, two large fresh, steaming piles had already accumulated.

An Sheng, staring at the scene inside, froze stiff at the doorway, the family-sized bag of chips still clutched in his paw—unaware it had already dropped to the floor.

An Sheng’s face was a mask of utter shock, his expression clearly saying: I don’t understand, but I’m deeply shaken.

An Sheng stared, dumbfounded, his face wearing the stunned, vacant expression of someone who didn’t understand but was profoundly shaken.

The panda, mid-defecation, sensed an unexpected visitor, retracted its tail, spun around sharply, and only relaxed when it saw the fox at the door.

“Phew! You scared me half to death—I thought the principal had come back for another surprise.”

“Does Master Fuli also come here to poop? It’s so satisfying.”

(End of Chapter)

(End of chapter)