Song Ya was now starting to tease two mice, Huang Yu counted as one, and Huang Jing...also counted as one.
One was a bald mouse with declining spirits, the other was a mouse with its fur puffed out from injected hormones, impulsive and irritable.
And she, naturally, was the cat.
Toying with the two pitiful mice in the palm of her hand, mocking them, watching them run around in circles obliviously, was really quite amusing.
Thinking back to the past, she found herself laughable.
She had been played like this before too; her siblings toyed with her, watching her fret, watching her run around in circles.
Now the wheel of fortune had turned, and they were the ones being played with.
Did they find it as amusing as they had before?
Song Ya really wanted to ask them.
Of course, both Huang Jing and Huang Yu did not find it fun at all. They were both about to be played to death by Song Ya.
