Jiaojiao decisively curled up her tail around herself, masquerading as a chubby, white, round... bun?
"Is this your pet?" The woman couldn't hear their conversation, but judging from the way Qin Yu treated Jiaojiao, she made her own assumption.
If it really was the apocalypse, those who stay loyal to their pets...
"No," surprisingly, Qin Yu denied it.
The woman raised her eyebrows.
"My little ancestor."
Eh, your ancestor is a cat? She was taken aback, then chuckled, leaning her hand against her cheek, the wind blew into the car window, rustling her hair.
Qin Yu didn't look at her, but he smelled a scent - a scent emanating from this woman, a provocative and captivating scent, abstractly akin to top-class perfume, neither thick nor light.
Strange, this woman hadn't taken a shower since she had emerged, she had only immersed herself in a water tank, where did this scent come from?
