“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one! Happy New Year!”
When the countdown ended, various firecrackers and fireworks lit up the entire night sky.
During this time of universal celebration, a small yellow chicken couldn’t help but sigh. The Miss Chicken labeled “Number 43” in his phone called him half a minute ago. She praised the small yellow chicken for being a decently-dressed gentleman with good manners, a lovely upbringing, a cute appearance, profound knowledge, etc. She also casually mentioned that he was very good, but they didn’t suit each other.
“Number 43” was the small yellow chicken’s last blind date from last year. She was also the one with the highest chances of success. Once she met him, she showed great interest in the small yellow chicken. Only after they met for the third time, the failure of the previous forty-two blind dates repeated.
The small yellow chicken revealed a ferocious smile, but because of his good upbringing, he maintained his gentlemanliness. He could not swear, “Are you blind? I am a great young man in the new century. But you can’t see it?!”
He also could not tearfully whine, “Why, why, why do you have to leave me?”
So, the small yellow chicken used a gentle voice at odds with his ferocious expression to express, “That’s okay. Although it is a pity, please don’t take it to heart. We can still be friends even if you’re not my girlfriend.”
After he put the phone down, the small yellow chicken couldn’t help but shout, “Oh, heavens! What did I do wrong in my last life that you have to punish me like this? Am I an evil star doomed to die alone?!!! Heavens, please take into account that I have been piously burning incense and worshipping and give me a wife!!!”
He had just finished speaking when the doorbell rang.
Ah, did the heavens hear my new year’s wish and gave this devout worshipper a good wife? The small yellow chicken suddenly smiled foolishly. He floated as he went to open the door. The little wife must be cute ~ ~ ~
Outside the door, Mr. Weasel was dressed in a suit and held a pot in his left hand. His right hand was pressing the doorbell. There was a bundle of wood on the floor.
“Happy New Year. I am here to pay a new year’s visit.” His slightly magnetic voice sounded quite cool.
“Oh, Mr. Weasel. Thank you. Happy New Year to you too. Please come in.” The small yellow chicken smiled foolishly as he looked at the future wife whom the heavens gave him.
He was very satisfied. Aiyo. How could his wife look so handsome?
Wait. Weasel? Pot? Wood…… !!!
The door slammed shut in front of Mr. Weasel and stopped him from going inside. He frowned and continued to ring the doorbell.
Inside the house, the small yellow chicken was shivering under a chair. His silly smile had disappeared. Heavens! Is this how you treat your devout worshipper? You not only don’t give me a wife, but you want to give me to the weasel as a late night snack? The small yellow chicken wanted to cry, but had no tears.
“Ding dong. Ding dong.” Mr. Weasel was very patient ringing the doorbell. But to the small yellow chicken, it sounded like a spirit bell from h.e.l.l. Why did he never notice that his doorbell sounded so scary?
“You can’t see me. I can’t see you. You can’t see anything. I can’t hear anything…”
The small yellow chicken bravely tried to hypnotize himself. Maybe the small yellow chicken’s method was effective because the doorbell finally stopped. Before the small yellow chicken’s heart that was in his throat jumped back into place, he felt a blow and the world spun.
When he returned to his senses, he was pressed down on the sofa by his neck. And who could the owner, of the teeth that were on his neck, be other than Mr. Weasel?
The small yellow chicken went mad. He heard himself ask in a very calm voice: “Mr. Weasel, how did you get in?
“Your window is open.” The weasel picked him up and pointed to the window.
“You, you, you’re actually breaking and entering?” The small yellow chicken’s hair bristled. Living on the first floor was indeed undesirable. Mom, I should have listened to you. This is retribution.
“I didn’t break in.” The weasel let go of the small yellow chicken. Under an angry gaze, he slowly added, “Didn’t you say to come in earlier? But you closed the door. So I had to come in through the window.”
… So I’m doomed to die in the belly of this weasel this New Year. The small yellow chicken looked pitifully at the weasel. He said his last wish, “Mr. Weasel, please be gentle when you eat me. I’m afraid of pain. Wuu… wuu… wuu.”
The weasel looked at the pair of beautiful eyes and couldn’t help but kiss him. “Okay.”
“Thank you, Mr. Weasel. You are a good weasel… Hey. Why are you taking my clothes off?… Un. Don’t kiss. It itches… Mmmmmm. What are you doing… It hurts! Wuu…”
The next day, the small yellow chicken bit the bedsheet and grumbled in grievance. The refreshed Mr. Weasel had on an ap.r.o.n and fed him the congee that he carefully made, spoonful by spoonful. He was in a very good mood.
“A weasel paying a new year’s visit to a chicken doesn’t have good intentions.”
The angry small yellow chicken could only vent his dissatisfaction during the gaps when he was fed the congee by Mr. Weasel.
Mr. Weasel was in an excellent mood and kissed his face. “I only have bad intentions with you. I love you.”
The small yellow chicken’s face suddenly turned red. He couldn’t speak in his embarra.s.sment.
The weasel secretly thought, ‘It seemed that, whether it was the fact that I fell in love with him at first sight three years ago or that I threatened the other party to cause the failure of all of his blind dates, should be told to him much later.’