Eighteen, waiting online, extremely urgent.

Li River, the bar street.

The neon lights had just begun to glow, casting a dazzling spell over the night.

From quite a distance away, Mao Xiaobai could already hear that idiot dog Ha Xiaoming’s hoarse, raspy voice, howling like a banshee—singing, apparently.

"I am a wolf from the north," he sang.
"Walking in the boundless wilderness."
…

Of course, this was all colored by prejudice. The truth was, thanks to his own natural endowments, Comrade Ha Xiaoming actually sang quite well. Otherwise, Jiangbei—who was just out for a stroll—wouldn’t have been lured into this bar by his voice.

Mao Xiaobai felt helpless. She’d just been scolded by Cat Boss that afternoon and didn’t dare to act out again. She shot a fierce glare at Ha Xiaoming, who was up on stage showing off, then obediently sat down.

Perhaps because it was just after dinnertime, the bar was still relatively empty; the indefatigable young men and women hadn’t finished their meals nor begun their nightly revels. Jiangbei’s group of five found a corner table and settled in.

Mao Xiaobai had been to a bar before and handled herself naturally. For Yang Xue, Yao Jing, and Zhao Jia, though, this was their first time. They were stiff and awkward, clearly out of their element.

Jiangbei, too, was a first-timer, but with his temperament, he seemed at ease anywhere.

He took charge, ordering a round of beer, two plates of peanuts, and two platters of fresh fruit.

With food and drink on the table, Mao Xiaobai lost interest in the attention-seeking Ha Xiaoming, still clutching the microphone and howling away on stage. If that silly dog wanted to show off, let him—she couldn’t be bothered.

‘So eager to be in the spotlight—one day he’ll wind up boiling in hotpot,’ she thought.

‘Hotpot… come to think of it, we haven’t had that in a while. Let’s have hotpot tomorrow.’

…

Jiangbei was like a radiant sun, lighting up every space he entered. If Ha Xiaoming failed to notice him, he had to be blind.

He did notice, but decided not to approach. For one thing, Dog King had already chewed him out earlier; for another, he was just a guy—getting close to Jiangbei wouldn’t affect the outcome of the ongoing game in any meaningful way.

So, he kept singing.

When the song ended, the few customers in the bar applauded. Some single ladies, perhaps emboldened by anonymity in a strange city, even whistled flirtatiously at Ha Xiaoming.

"Encore, handsome!" one called.
"Join us for a drink when you’re done singing!" another chimed in.

Hearing their calls, Ha Xiaoming flashed his signature wicked grin at them—an expression that made Mao Xiaobai want to gag.

Still, she had to admit, her prejudice aside, that with his good looks and that sly smile, Ha Xiaoming possessed a certain lethal charm—enough to make some less steady-hearted girls swoon.

"Alright, I’ll sing another," Ha Xiaoming said, gripping the microphone, every inch the performer. "This song is dedicated to a friend of mine. She was a little white cat… She’s passed away now. I hope she’s happy in heaven."

Mao Xiaobai: "??????????"

Ha Xiaoming! You damn mutt!

Just you wait—I swear I’ll turn you into dog stew one of these days!

If not for her iron self-control, she would have stormed the stage right then and there to give him the beating he so thoroughly deserved.

Ha Xiaoming glanced meaningfully at Mao Xiaobai, then turned to the bartender in charge of the music. "‘Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing,’ please. Thank you."

…

"I’m certain I am that wolf in sheep’s clothing,
And you are my prey,
The lamb in my jaws…"
…

"You make me wild, make me mad,
My howl of love still echoes in the valleys,
I’m certain you are the flower-like lamb in my heart…"

---------------------

Jiangbei munched on peanuts, thoroughly entertained.

He laughed, genuinely amused.

Yang Xue, puzzled, asked, "What’s so funny?"

"That guy is quite the character. I’m pretty sure that song is supposed to be a love song, right?"

"Yeah, so what?"

"But the way he sings it—doesn’t it sound less like a love song and more like he’s planning to eat the lamb?"

Yang Xue: "????????"

Her expression grew complicated. She stared unblinkingly at the still-laughing Jiangbei. "Jiangbei, I never realized you had such a dark mind!"

Jiangbei: "…"

"My mind is pure sunshine. You’re just too dense to get it."

Calling me dense?

"Jiangbei, you’re the dense one! You’re like a block of wood!"

"How about this—when he’s done singing, I’ll go ask him myself. I think my comprehension’s just fine… Hm? Xiaobai, you look upset. Not enjoying the fruit?"

Mao Xiaobai: "!!!!!!!!!"

Ha Xiaoming, you dumb mutt! You’re dead meat!

How dare you threaten this cat’s life right out in the open!

Grinding her teeth, Mao Xiaobai flashed Jiangbei a dazzling smile. "No, it’s not that. I just suddenly remembered I haven’t had hotpot in ages. Let’s go for hotpot tomorrow at noon, okay?"

Yang Xue, Yao Jing, Zhao Jia: "????????"

This girl—was she some kind of rare species? Was her mind really filled with nothing but food?

-------------------

After Ha Xiaoming finished singing, he joined the group of ladies who’d invited him for drinks, clearly no stranger to such lively bar escapades.

Jiangbei seized a chance—not to prove that Yang Xue had misunderstood, but to check if he himself had misread the situation. He found Ha Xiaoming and asked.

‘Jiangbei came over to talk to me?’

‘Stay calm, stay calm, don’t panic—I’m a handsome guy, I mustn’t panic!’

‘Maintain composure!’

Ha Xiaoming drew a silent, deep breath, then smiled and nodded at Jiangbei. "You got it right."

Jiangbei grinned. "I knew I understood perfectly… Mind if I ask one more thing?"

"Go ahead, ask," Ha Xiaoming replied, forcing himself to stay cool, though his heart was pounding out of his chest.

Because just now, a troubling thought had struck him.

Rumor had it that Jiangbei and Fang Yuan once stumbled upon a stray dog—Wang Fu—who was half-dead at the time.

They took Wang Fu in, and he became their butler, rising to unexpected fortune.

I’m way better-looking than Wang Fu. If I perform well now, maybe Jiangbei will consider adopting me as his pet.

"Here’s my question, and I hope you don’t mind: Before you sang, you dedicated the song to a friend—a little white cat. Did you mean you wanted to… eat that cat?"

Ha Xiaoming: "…"

I’m just a husky.

And I’m really panicking right now.

It feels like Jiangbei approached me to slap me dead on the spot, to avenge Mao Xiaobai.

What should I do? Someone, please help—this is urgent…