The Woman in the Painting

"Woof woof woof …" When the sleeping Tibetan mastiff heard Zhang Lanfeng calling its name, it immediately woke up. Its round, lacquered eyes looked around vigilantly, looking around, it saw Zhang Lanfeng opening the cage and slowly walked out. It was calm and composed, and its whole body emitted the aura of a king.

As expected of the king of dogs, this mastiff's body was almost as tall as an adult's. Its strong limbs were planted on the floor as it scanned the room.

"Ba, be good. Come and drink some coffee to refresh your spirit …" Zhang Lanfeng held onto his coffee cup, and carefully walked towards the mastiff.

Ba... Hearing this name, Xiao Ling unwittingly smiled. A faint smile appeared on his pale white face, like the bright eyes of spring after winter had passed. This Zhang Lanfeng was not a good person, he must be the son of a dog, truly a special hobby.