Chapter 8 — Ex-Wife Reincarnated

The ringleader was squatting at the other end of the table. A dog. Shiny golden fur, big, very bright eyes. It was tilting its head and looking at me with an innocent expression.

“Who are you?!” I was so angry that I laughed, "Illegally breaking into people's houses and destroying them?"

The dog barked "Woof", jumped down from the table, swaggered to the sofa, jumped up, curled up, and slept. Me: “…” Okay, you're good. I resigned myself to cleaning up the mess: wipe the table, throw away the messy paper, wash the cups. The dog snored on the sofa, the sound was not loud but its existence was extremely prominent. After cleaning up, I walked over and squatted down to look at it. Very beautiful indeed. Golden hair, without a stray hair. Eyes like two amber stones. “Hey,” I poked his head, “Where are you from?” The dog opened its eyes, glared at me, then closed its eyes again. Truly arrogant. I took out my phone, took a photo, and sent it to the chat group of residents in the area. 【Is there anyone who lost their dog? Golden dog, very beautiful, is at my house.】 In the group, someone quickly replied: 【Hey, isn't this family dog number 8?】 【Number 8? Hasn't that house always been empty?】 【It seems like someone has returned recently, last night I saw the light on.】 【The dog's name is Binh An, extremely picky, only eats imported food.】 I stared at the screen. Apartment number 8, right next to my house, is my neighbor. I turned my head to look at the dog. "Peaceful?" The dog's ears twitched, but he didn't pay any attention to me. I stood up and walked out into the yard. The neighboring homestay house was indeed lit, the second floor windows were open, the white curtains were blown out by the wind, but there was no sign of anyone. I went back inside the house. The dog was still sleeping, sleeping with all four legs up in the air, belly exposed, defenseless. I sighed, took a carton of milk from the refrigerator, poured it into a small bowl, and placed it next to the sofa. “Drink it.” The dog opened one eye, parted its nose to sniff, then turned its head away, not wanting to drink.

“Are you that picky?” I frowned, "You don't even want to drink milk?"

The dog jumped off the sofa, walked to the door, and scratched the door with his paw. The meaning is clear: I want to go home.

“Now you know you want to go home?” I snorted, "Why didn't you think about it when you sabotaged it?"

The dog looked back at me, his eyes clear, as if to say: It's not my fault. Okay, you win. I opened the door. The dog rushed out, jumped three steps over the low wall, and disappeared into the neighbor's yard. I closed the door and continued drawing. The next morning, I was awakened again. This time it wasn't the doorbell, but the sound of scratching on the door. Scratch — rustle —, it sounded like fingernails scratching on a blackboard. I brought my messy hair to open the door. It's still the same dog, Binh An. It held something in its mouth and placed it on the ground. It's a beef jerky bar, the packaging is sophisticated, all in English. I picked it up.

“For me?” The dog barked "Woof" and turned away.

I held the beef stick and stood dumbfounded at the door. Is this… apologizing for compensation? There are more and more rules. The third day, the dog came again. This time he jumped up on the desk, squatted right next to my hand, watching me draw.

“Do what?” I asked, “Do you want to spill your coffee again?”

The dog didn't pay any attention, its eyes glued to my pen, not moving, just like a supervisor. I draw for an hour, he watches for an hour. Then he jumped down from the table, walked to the door, and looked back at me.

“Do you want to go again?” The dog barked one sound, took two steps out, then turned around again.

I understand. “Tell me to follow you?” The dog turned around. I follow it. Go out the door, turn right, into the neighbor's yard. Binh An jumped up on the steps and used his feet to scratch the door. The door was unlocked, leaving a small gap. I pushed the door and walked in. The living room is very large, decorated in a minimalist style, black and white and gray. But the floor is littered with dog toys: electric rolling balls, bite ropes, climbing shelves. There are also several dog nests, different shapes, different materials