The grey fog seemed endless.

Ye Qingyu cautiously moved forward.

“Come on, hurry up, catch up to that guy covered with red crap. I will bite him to death....” The silly dog, Little Nine, was jumping up and down on Ye Qingyu’s shoulders with an impatient look on his face.

“Red crap?” Ye Qingyu couldn’t help laughing out loud. “It’s red crap, do you still want to bite into it? Your appetite is so huge, no wonder Wen Wan always keeps saying that a dog can’t ...