Chapter 1230 - 1227:

"Yo! You haven't been beaten to death yet?"

After coming back from the Chen Family, Ansheng brought Ah Qing to Lin Ying's villa, planning to have a late-night snack there.

And the moment they walked in, Ansheng saw Little Angel sitting on the sofa watching TV with Sun Xingyao. Little Angel was holding the remote, constantly switching channels.

"If they could actually kill me, that'd be great...." Little Angel shrugged and said, "If they can kill me, I can kill them too. It's just a pity..... we just end up glaring at each other with big eyes and small eyes."

Their tech levels are all right there, both are Divine Spirit System Genetic Translocators, though their performance and the focus of their abilities are a bit different.

But when it comes to being hard to kill, they're all remarkably consistent—none of them can manage to kill the others.

That's why the Landlords of Longevity can sit at the same oval table and discuss how to eat together.

The reason the Longevity Club's Life Sciences advances so fast and has so much room to grow is thanks to them coveting each other and constantly guarding against the guy at the next table pulling some stunt and getting them killed.

"You guys are really quite loving with each other..."

Ansheng's expression curved into a grin as he cracked a joke, then led Ah Qing over to the dining table to sit down and eat.

Dish after dish from the takeout boxes had been replated by Shasha in the kitchen and brought out to the table. Things like General Tso's Chicken, Orange Chicken, Northern Beef and similar popular American‑Chinese dishes—Ansheng ordered one of each.

Every single dish was heavy on oil and sugar.

Once a dish loses the "healthy" label, the taste is just downright delicious.

"Mmm mmm..." Chewing something in her mouth, Shasha came out carrying a plate of scrambled eggs and said:

"I just sneaked a bite. The dishes are non‑toxic, but Shasha's warm reminder: Ah Qing should probably just have a small taste. Otherwise, speaking in terms of a human body, there's a high chance you'll pass out from hypoglycemia, like you just got beaten up....."

"Hypoglycemia?"

Ansheng and Ah Qing both froze, and in unison looked at the oil‑and‑sugar mixture on the table.

"Yes, like this Orange Chicken here, there's probably around forty grams of sugar in it. When a human body takes in a huge amount of sugar in a short time, the pancreas goes into party mode, assumes the disaster relief grain has arrived, and secretes a ton of insulin..."

Shasha pointed at the dozen or so dishes and gave Ah Qing a health warning: "For humans, this much insulin can cause hypoglycemia. It's not exactly healthy."

"Ah, uh..."

Ah Qing's face showed her amazement as she looked at the beautifully plated dishes on the table and said, "You can die from just eating a meal? Aren't the restaurants afraid of customers dropping dead in their stores?"

"Maybe it's... their signature?" Shasha shook her head, also puzzled, and subconsciously looked toward the local.

"Hm?"

Little Angel got up and took a glance, then said casually, "Ordinary folks can't eat like this. The Chinese food Master Fuli brought back should be from the Hutong restaurant, with an average of about 40 bucks per dish."

"You order three or four dishes and a few glasses of wine, and the per‑person bill lands around 200 bucks. Add in a tip—there just aren't that many people who can consume like this..."

Master Fuli ordered in one go over a dozen dishes, so of course you might end up with some issues.

But in Little Angel's view, even among the middle class, Master Fuli's spending counts as show‑off consumption.

Count in the tip and you're close to a thousand bucks for a single meal. Normal Americans have no chance to suffer from "eating themselves into hypoglycemia."

After they eat, when they get home, they still gotta grab two bags of chips to pad their stomachs.

The consumption habits of the two countries are actually not that similar.

"If I've got money and don't spend it on food, I'm supposed to buy luxury goods?" Ansheng rolled his eyes and roasted Little Angel: "If my Engel coefficient doesn't hit forty, I'll end up starving myself skinny."

"...." Little Angel shrugged. She really didn't feel like commenting on Master Fuli's outrageous spending habits.

A fox with money who doesn't spend it on food—and you expect him to buy luxury cars and fancy watches? That's just an affront to heaven.

"Let's eat!"

Ansheng picked up a fork, stabbed a piece of chicken, and was just about to put it in his mouth when he felt that something was off.

He readjusted his position, moved to sit in Ah Qing's lap, handed the fork to her, opened his mouth and let out a "ying" sound, quietly waiting to be fed.

"....."

Lines of exasperation appeared on Ah Qing's face as she brought the food to the Little Fox's mouth.

"You're not a kid anymore. Huhu should learn to order takeout by himself and tear into the delivery guy..."

"We'll talk about it when we have time....." Ansheng responded lazily, then looked at Ah Qing and said, "Oh right, are you free tomorrow night?"

"Shouldn't be anything going on? Tomorrow, we're just visiting two uncles to pay New Year's greetings." Ah Qing thought for a moment and answered.

"Perfect, then we'll take a trip back to Chang'an City. Old Li asked me to go help him with revenge."

Ansheng gave Ah Qing a heads‑up and laid out the schedule he'd arranged on the Luwu Fighter.

Depart directly for Chang'an in the evening, spend two hours blowing the pants off his New Year's vacation, bum a free meal, and be back in Changxi Town before 12:30 a.m.

By then, they'd go to the Fox Immortal Palace together with Lin Ying.

For the next few days, there basically wasn't much to do, so he could go wandering around with Ah Qing, visiting people for New Year.

"Oh..." Ah Qing's eyes lit up, her mind full of curious thoughts about the upcoming Security Bureau operation.

After having their late‑night snack at Lin Ying's place—

They said a quick hello to Old Li upstairs and said goodbye to Sun Xingyao, then Ah Qing carried the Little Fox home.

Right before they parted, Sun Xingyao gave Master Fuli a measuring look, then gently shook her head.

As always, Ah Qing once again fulfilled her wish of the day: she initiated a party invite by rubbing his ears, hugged the Big Fox, and fell asleep.

The next morning.

Just as the warm winter sun had risen, Ansheng, in his half‑beast form, was still sleeping in bed.

Ah Qing, looking excited, patted the Little Fox's butt and said:

"Xiaolan, wake up, we're going out to watch drama! The village's Doggy Patrol has turned on each other and is about to break up!"

"Huh?"

Ansheng poked his fox head out of the blankets, a confused look on his face as he stared at Ah Qing: "What what is getting... what?"

"Not getting 'stuck up,' they're breaking up! The Doggy Patrol is about to split!" Ah Qing said, face full of excitement. "The fight is super lively."

She dragged the Little Fox out of bed, stuck her head into the hallway for a quick look to make sure her parents weren't paying attention, then pushed the Little Fox into the bathroom.

Wearing Ah Qing's fuzzy slippers, Ansheng glanced at himself in the mirror, then at the toothbrush and mug in his hand, and looked at Ah Qing in utter shock: "You... don't love me anymore!"

"I still love you, but you've grown up. Huhu has to learn to live independently."

Ah Qing spoke with full confidence, teaching the Little Fox how to use a toothbrush and a cup.

"Yeah yeah yeah..." Ansheng curled his lips, rolled his eyes, and brushed his teeth and rinsed his mouth himself. After washing his face, he turned back into Little Fox form and hopped onto Ah Qing's shoulder.

Ah Qing, full of excitement, went upstairs, taking the Little Fox up to the rooftop parapet to look down at the village.

"Xiaolan, look..."

"Whoa! The doggies all evolved overnight!" Following the direction of Ah Qing's finger, Ansheng looked down.

And saw—

The ID collars that had originally hung around the dogs' necks had, for some unknown reason, all disappeared. In their place were ordinary collars with a string attached, and the string was tied to a bone.

And not just any bone—some were beef shank bones, others were pork leg bones.

The idea of "don't flaunt your wealth" is understood not just by humans; the doggies get it too.

They imitated human walking, standing upright on their hind legs while their front paws clutched their giant bones tightly to their chests.

The dogs on the village road used to be best friends, meeting every morning to patrol their turf and take dumps together.

But today—

They met again, squatting opposite one another on the ground, hugging their big bones tight, baring their teeth and guarding against each other.

Friends who used to share everything—

Were now slowly edging toward a breakup, their pupils filled with a "guarding against thieves" look as they stared at their former best friends.