The landlord has multiple personalities and wants everyone to pay him.

Potato Chips is now about three and a half months old.

Strictly speaking, it's not a particularly valuable breed; it's just a mixed-breed of a small, unidentified mongrel.

But despite being a skewer, it's not ugly at all.

It's round and plump all over, covered in little yellow fur, just like a running egg yolk pastry.

Those eyes were especially beautiful, like two black grapes, and when they darted around, they exuded a cleverness.

A small, upturned tail dangles behind it; when not in use, it droops, but when it's happy, it wags so hard it almost flies away.

The only downside might be that its legs are a bit short, and with its round body, it might headbutt the ground if it runs too fast.

However, this little guy's life isn't actually that good.

It was originally a puppy born to a dog raised by a farmer on the outskirts of the city. The mother dog had four puppies in one litter, and Potato Chip was one of them.

Back then, it was too young to understand anything; it just kept digging around in the puppy kennel and trying to steal milk.

But as it continued to fight for it, it realized that it didn't seem like it needed to fight anymore.

Because its siblings were unlucky, they were given away shortly after they opened their eyes, leaving only Potato Chip and another one with their mother.

When they were a little older and old enough to be sold, the original owner found an evening, threw the remaining two puppies into a bamboo basket, and rode a tricycle to the night market entrance in the south of the city.

That night, it was so crowded that it was the first time I'd ever seen so many people. I was a little scared. The two puppies were huddled together in the bamboo basket, trembling with fear.

Whether the two puppies were lucky or unlucky is hard to say, but the one who sold the dogs was lucky because he sold both puppies in one night.

The family of three bought the potato chips. The little boy, who was only seven or eight years old, pointed at the round shape of the chips and refused to leave, insisting that his parents buy them.

This family didn't seem to be short of money; they spent two hundred yuan, and the potato chips were taken away without them even realizing it.

For the first few days, Potato Chips felt that it was the happiest time of his dog life.

The little boy doted on it, holding it in his arms and rubbing it, chasing after it to feed it treats.

The potato chip thought it had met a good person, and every day it wagged its little tail and followed its owner around happily.

But kids are still kids; once the novelty wears off, they're just like that.

But potato chips are still potato chips, still the same potato chips that like to pull down pants legs and lick palms.

But it discovered that, from some point onwards, when it approached again, the little boy no longer smiled at it, no longer hugged it, and wouldn't even glance at it.

Sometimes, not only will they not look at it, but they will also impatiently lift their foot and kick it to the side.

That kick was quite forceful, sending the potato chip rolling several times on the ground.

Potato chips are smart, and dogs are smart too; they can read their owner's expressions.

From then on, it gradually learned when it should go and when it shouldn't; it learned to read people's expressions.

But more and more inappropriate things happened to it, and gradually, the way that family looked at it changed.

They complain about its shedding, its excessive barking, and its excessive eating and defecating.

Owning a dog is too much trouble, and if you don't like it from the start, then no matter what you do afterward, it will be wrong.

So, on another brightly lit night, the family's child took a bag of potato chips downstairs, tossed them into the community's green belt, and walked away without looking back.

When Potato Chips finally managed to crawl out of the green belt after a long struggle, the little boy was already out of sight.

It didn't know what to do, so every day it would lie there where it had been abandoned, waiting to see if its little owner would come looking for it.

But several days passed and it still didn't arrive.

It grew thinner and thinner, and its little yellow fur became dirtier and tangled.

It was starving to death, so hungry that it didn't even have the strength to cry out. It just lay there in the green belt, waiting for him to come and take it home.

Just then, it heard footsteps approaching, causing the branches above its head to be parted.

It was terrified, but it was too weak to run, and it couldn't even scream. It could only press its head to the ground, its whole body tense, waiting for the man's foot to kick it.

But the person just stared at it quietly for a while. She didn't say anything or do anything; she just looked at it and then turned and left.

gone……

Sure enough, nobody wanted it.

But not long after, the familiar footsteps returned, and this time, the person squatted down in front of him.

She was very close; the potato chips could smell her scent.

As it saw a hand reaching out towards it, the potato chip trembled and let out a low whimper, a warning, but more of a plea for mercy.

But then it smelled a familiar fragrance wafting from the person's outstretched hand.

It didn't know what the thing was called, but its former owner used to feed it this kind of thing often before he started kicking it.

That was the most delicious thing it had ever eaten.

In the end, instinct prevailed over fear. Chip raised its head, its eyes fixed on the delicious treat the man was holding.

It was so hungry that it didn't hesitate when it saw the food being offered to it. It opened its mouth, grabbed the delicious food, and started chewing.

Really fragrant.

As soon as the food was swallowed, the little tuft of potato chips behind it started wagging uncontrollably back and forth.

She must be a good person. After all, how could someone who feeds you such delicious food be a bad person?

The person didn't rush to touch it, but just fed it bite by bite.

It ate the potato chips one bite at a time, very quickly. Towards the end, it even dared to nudge the person's hand with its nose, wanting more.

Just as it was engrossed in eating, it heard the door across the street open, and a strange series of footsteps came from inside.

The potato chip looked up warily and saw a strange person.

The man was quite tall, and he swayed as he walked, and he had four legs! But he only walked on three legs, with one leg raised.

The potato chips immediately bristled; this three-legged person didn't look like a good person at all!

It quickly retreated into the green belt, staring intently at the three-legged person.

The man walked straight towards them; his target was this kind person who fed him delicious food.

"Ye Shu? Why did you get down here?! Don't you know you can't move your legs?! Who let you down?!"

The good guy saw the three-legged man and yelled at him. Although the potato chip couldn't understand what they were saying, it knew that the good guy was very angry.

Potato Chip gripped the ground with its tiny paws in the green belt, slowly lowering its head, maintaining an attack posture. As soon as the three-legged person made a move, it would rush up and bite him!

It's full now and has energy!

After observing for a while, Potato Chip realized something was wrong; the two people didn't seem to be fighting or arguing.

When the three-legged person looked at him, there seemed to be no malice in his eyes.

The potato chip's instincts told it that this person could be trusted.

It slowly emerged from the bushes, without any danger.

Then that kind person bent down to touch it, and the next second, it was lifted up by that person's hand, which still smelled delicious.

The moment it left the ground, it felt a little panicked, but more than anything, it felt a long-lost sense of security.

It was taken back to a house that was even bigger than its previous owner's, where it took a hot bath and got its own soft little nest.

Potato Chips lay in that nest, looking at the three-legged person sitting opposite him. So, his legs could be detached.

It blinked again, looking at the kind person who was busy walking back and forth.

It has a home again.

……

However, it is starving to death again. Potato Chips is lying by the door, looking at the closed door. These two people haven't come back for a day and a night. Did they abandon it again?