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He turned two street corners and returned to his residence. All of a sudden, a palm-sized little fox jumped out from the embrace of the man who had just enjoyed a pleasant conversation with Mrs. Ai. The little fox's fur was pure white without a single stray hair, clear and exquisite, and its appearance was exceptionally delicate. No wonder ancient people used to compare bewitching women to seductive fox spirits—the natural allure of a fox is indeed something incomparable to humans.
"A big demon, a little demon, one born with a spiritual vein, and one with heavenly destiny—you're just going to leave like that?"
As soon as the fox spoke, its voice—a middle-aged man's husky tone—struck a particularly jarring note against its appearance, as if it were dubbed.
"Heh." The man lay down on the bed, "Look at you, with your meager few pounds of flesh. Are you enough for someone to add a dish to their dinner? Did you see the fan in the hand of that one born with the spiritual vein?"
