The Persian Cat was completely white all over, with a particularly chubby little belly, and its fluffy fur was incredibly adorable. It had a pair of deep blue eyes, like the clearest sapphires, noble, lazy, with a hint of clever mischief. The pet you own reflects the owner, and this little one was clearly of the same breed as Mo Xiaobai, especially cute.
Mo Wushuang, while rubbing its little belly, couldn't help but laugh and say, "Xiao Bai, you need to lose some weight."
Xiao Bai's deep blue eyes looked pitifully at Wushuang, then pounced and kissed her cheek. Long Chengtian's eyes widened; she thought Wushuang would slap the little pet away—she disliked these sorts of soft creatures the most.
Who knew Wushuang would actually enjoy the Persian Cat's kisses.
"Didn't you hate cats the most?" His girlfriend also had a small pet, a cat of a very precious breed. Once, it accidentally pounced on Wushuang and scratched her arm. Wushuang's reflex was to slap it to death.
