As soon as she walked into her courtyard, the little white fox jumped into Yang Yiting's arms like a spring ball, raised its head, and looked at her with two watery big eyes that glowed with bright blue light. The fox let out a whimpering sound, as if it had been missed her for a thousand years.
In the past few days, she had been busy investigating the case and taking care of Meng Yuan, so she had indeed neglected it. She stroked a shallow scar on its leg, which was the wound from the last blood draw. And for such wounds, there would be more than a dozen more on its body.
Thinking of this, Yang Yiting smoothed the white fur on its back, and said with some distress. "Little fox, I know it's hard for you."
There was no other way, for Meng Yuan's health to recover, she could only make the little fox suffer a bit.
