Feng Yan: Ah Yin, want to see my big treasure?

Three mornings later.

With Ah Yin attending to him, Feng Yan got dressed. Nearby, a certain three-headed male dog was still suffering from "Tang Syndrome."

"Woof! Woof? Woof! (Damn it, Feng Yan! Don't you have hands of your own? You even need Ah Yin to dress you!)"

"Woof? Woof! (Doesn't your lousy Zero Class have lessons today? And you're still tormenting Ah Yin!)"

Tang Hao crouched by the door, all six eyes glaring fixedly at Feng Yan. These past few days had nearly driven him mad with anger.

He had watched with his own eyes as his wife served another man—wringing out towels, straightening his collar, fastening his belt.

She even had to massage him while he bathed!

He had even forced Ah Yin to call him Master!

Fortunately, the fur atop their three heads had not turned green just yet...

The thing he feared most had not come to pass. That was at least some consolation amid the misfortune.

Yet whenever Tang Hao recalled Ah Yin calling Feng Yan Master, his fangs would bare themselves uncontrollably.

But he was afraid Ah Yin would realize he was a bad dog, so he could only half-bare them at most, making him look like he had some kind of serious illness.

"Woof! Woof woof! (Primary consciousness, what the hell are you being such a coward for? Hurry up and bite Feng Yan!)" The leftmost dog head finally could not hold it in any longer.

The humiliation of the past few days had nearly made its already dim-witted brain explode.

It shoved its neck desperately toward Feng Yan, its jaws gaping wide as though it wished it could pounce on him and demand justice at once.

But before it could move even half a step forward, the head in the middle abruptly opened