"What is the little fox saying?"
Ah Qing, in front of the dormitory door, looked confused and asked Ansheng who was hanging on the air conditioner top, "Did you just say something to Momo?"
"Ying ying..." Ansheng responded with a chirp.
"Oh, I get it!" Ah Qing, upon hearing this, suddenly showed a look of realization and turned to Momo, saying, "The little fox says he doesn't like stick-like objects and he's worried you might poke his throat while he's eating... Hey? Oh!"
As Ah Qing was speaking, the look of realization on her cheeks turned into a puzzled expression. She shifted her glance from Momo back to the little fox and asked, dumbfounded:
"...Are these things meant to be spoken out loud?"
"?"
A question mark appeared on Momo's forehead, and with a slightly suspicious look, she took a sugar-coated hawthorn from the skewer and handed it to the fox on the air conditioner.
The little fox opened his mouth and ate it.
