Chapter 7: That Thing Is Definitely Not a Belly Button!

“Coming, Huhu’s going to take a bath!”

Yu Xueqing picked up the fox by the nape of its neck and walked into the bathroom, then placed An Sheng inside a massive red basin, ancient in appearance.

Yu Xueqing walked over to the electric water heater and adjusted the temperature.

Although the self-built houses in Zhangxizhen included grand mansions rivaling estates, none of them—no matter how luxurious—had access to piped natural gas.

Solar water heaters and electric water heaters were the norm here.

“Huh—”

Seeing Yu Xueqing adjust the water temperature, An Sheng didn’t idle like a pampered lord—he sat crouched in the red basin, slowly leaning his back against the rim, fully exposing his white, fluffy underbelly and Pengsong fur.

Amidst the white fluff, near his belly, there was a black circle, like the bullseye of a target.

An Sheng’s face was grim; he glanced at the bright overhead light, then sharply eyed Yu Xueqing.

During bathing, nothing else mattered—only one thing did: exposing one’s vital spot to the light.

“Ying ying ying—”

An Sheng stared warily at Yu Xueqing, as if facing a mortal enemy.

“.”

Seeing his fox adopt a death-defying stance, Yu Xueqing’s face flushed with embarrassment.

At home, Xiao An refused to enter two places.

One was the kitchen when she was there; the other was the bathroom when she was there.

On the first day she adopted Xiao An, inexperienced, Yu Xueqing mistook the black circle on his belly for his belly button and jabbed a soapy finger straight into its center.

In that instant, Yu Xueqing heard the fox’s terrified, pained shriek for the first time.

The fox turned from a creature into a ball.

It turned out the black bullseye on his belly had nothing to do with a belly button.

Yu Xueqing’s clumsy move nearly knocked the fox’s bell right off.

Since then, whenever they were together in the bathroom, the fox always stood in the brightest spot, watching Yu Xueqing with deep suspicion.

As for why An Sheng refused to enter the kitchen when Yu Xueqing was there?

Because, while cooking, Yu Xueqing splashed hot oil onto the fox’s tail.

For the first time, An Sheng gained a profound understanding of his own leaping ability.

Originally, An Sheng was rubbing against her legs, cute and coaxing, trying to trick Yu Xueqing into buying him a cola.

He didn’t get the lemon-flavored cola—instead, hot oil splashed onto his tail, and he nearly landed in the pot, cooked alongside the fish.

“I checked Baidu—I know where the belly button is.”

Yu Xueqing’s gaze drifted, her voice tinged with guilt as she explained to the fox.

Honestly, amidst all that snowy white, a black raised spot was impossible to ignore.

Yu Xueqing reached out.

An Sheng leaned against the basin’s edge, using his tail as a pivot, lifting his hind legs to block her hand.

Yu Xueqing withdrew her hand and reached from another angle.

The fox stretched his leg out, perfectly bracing against her wrist.

They stared at each other for a moment; Yu Xueqing, expressionless, picked up the bath sponge.

“That’s cruel—no trust at all.”

After washing and drying An Sheng, Yu Xueqing tossed the fox into the bedroom and picked up her clothes, heading for the bathroom.

“Mmm—”

An Sheng lay on the bed, rolled over, stretched out long and languidly, feeling refreshed and energetic, not the least tired despite the nightfall.

An Sheng closed his eyes and browsed the [Wish List] in his mind.

As expected, a new wish related to Yu Xueqing had appeared.

【Sigh—no trust at all. Who’s ever seen a dog so suspicious of its master? Yu Xueqing looked heartbroken, muttering to herself as she scrubbed.】

【Wish fulfilled: Huhu-brand double-door refrigerator】

“Damn double doors!”

The moment An Sheng saw the wish, he leapt straight up.

He’d assumed Yu Xueqing would wish for him to help with livestream selling—but instead, she suddenly wished for a Huhu-brand double-door refrigerator.

“Double doors” meant, of course, having the fox lie flat on the ground with all four limbs spread wide.

But after thinking it over, An Sheng decided the wish wasn’t so bad after all.

In the past, foxes absorbed human yang energy to become spirits.

But society had progressed, technology had advanced—now humans had turned the tables, absorbing yang energy from small animals.

Online, there was even a group, led by a netizen named Shiji Niangniang, systematically organizing activities to harvest yang energy from small animals.

Shiji’s voice, her smile, her demeanor—utterly sinister.

“Forget it. Steel wool’s motto is endurance—I’ll just treat it as rent for living in the big villa.”

An Sheng muttered to himself, then sprawled out like a double door again, scanning the wish list for other easy-to-fulfill wishes.

But after flipping through, the easiest wishes were only a few elementary students saying they didn’t want to do homework.

An Sheng’s eye twitched—he didn’t want to ghostwrite homework either.

Of course, forging parental signatures? He’d love that.

Too bad technology had advanced too fast—now parents had to sign via WeChat facial recognition.

After thinking it over, An Sheng decided the easiest wish on the list was still the one Yu Xueqing had previously wished for him: Cha Shan Ku Rong.

Yu Xueqing’s family ran a tea shop, but due to extreme market homogenization, profits kept declining.

Her father wanted to pivot—he felt his decades of experience qualified him to run a tea plantation.

Of course, with elderly parents and young children to support, he lacked the recklessness to go all-in—he only leased a few mu of mountain land to experiment and gain experience.

But the tea trees on that land kept dying and reviving, driving Yu Xueqing’s father to despair.

Neither Yu Xueqing nor her father could figure out why.

But the reason was simple: An Sheng visited the land once, sniffed, and recognized the familiar scent.

The mountain land Yu Xueqing’s family rented? It was a damn mountain rat nest—the soil beneath the tea fields was packed with fat, well-fed rats that chewed on roots for fun.

After seeing the land, An Sheng gave them a remedy.

He released thirty snakes into the area; the rat infestation instantly eased, and the tea trees gradually returned to health.

“Yah—Huhu!”

Just as An Sheng was thinking of returning to the mountain tonight to fully resolve the rat problem,

Yu Xueqing returned to the bedroom after her bath and saw the fox sprawled like a pancake on the bed, cooling off under the air conditioner.

Her eyes lit up; she buried her face in the fox’s chest and began making strange, greedy noises as she sniffed him.

Did the fox smell bad? Her little An had no odor at all—instead, he carried a faint scent of herbs and honey.

Breathe deeply, and it was intoxicating!

“Ying ying ying—”

Surprised by Yu Xueqing’s sudden attack on his belly, An Sheng felt intensely ticklish and instinctively let out a foxy giggle.

By eleven at night, Yu Xueqing stroked the fox’s belly and gradually drifted into sleep.

An Sheng crawled out from under the covers, shook his snowy-white fur, glanced at the door and the air conditioner, and with a solemn, death-defying resolve, stepped out of the room.

What drove a little fox to leave the air-conditioned room on a sweltering summer night?

Was it love? Duty? Or beauty?

If An Sheng had to answer, he’d say: the smell of midnight snacks from next door’s auntie!

(End of chapter)