The Persian cat kept meowing next to him. Fu Sichen looked at the cat, finally noticing Pei Zhen's softened expression.
"You want me to dry my hair?" Fu Sichen couldn't help but smile, "Dad will do that in a bit. Thank you."
Fu Sichen carelessly threw the towel over his own head, continuing to flip through the stack of notes. Pei Zhen automatically ignored the word "Dad," suddenly feeling like Fu Sichen wasn't so bad after all.
This was a god-given talent.
Pei Zhen believed that Fu Sichen would be able to carry on Pei Zhen's self-created calligraphy style if he kept working diligently!
Ever since becoming a cat, Pei Zhen had rarely slept as well as he did that night. The next morning, he woke up in a very good mood.
The Persian cat was very well-behaved, allowing Fu Sichen to help him dress up in his pet suit. Pei Zhen had even stretched out his paws to give Fu Sichen a pat on the shoulder.
