Hu Yan stepped out from the shelter of the treehouse, the cool rain misting against his skin.
He hadn't gone three steps before a mass of moving greenery blocked his path.
He looked down, expecting a fallen branch, but his eyes lit up when he saw the familiar, leafy vines. It was Stove, the spirit plant that had run away from the home after rain had started.
"So, you finally decided to come back," Hu Yan teased, crouching down to be at eye level with the plant. He reached out and gently patted the top leaves. "I thought you might have run off to start your own forest."
Stove shivered with delight, rubbing his broad leaves against Hu Yan's large palm.
In Stove's mind, Hu Yan was the best of the husbands. Unlike that flashy, annoying fox Rong Ye who always made fun of him, Hu Yan was a steady, considerate beastman. Stove felt a wave of affection; he definitely loved Hu Yan the most.
