My Demon King Plush

any things didn't happen afterwards, the two of them were dead.
He also would have lived to be two thousand eight hundred or nine hundred years old.

Three thousand was a landmark number, and nine thousand was another.
Demons that didn't have the blood of beasts and those that did, had a life span of less than three thousand years, and only those noble beasts had to consider the hurdle of living to nine thousand.
As a result, he was in a mixed state, because before he'd matured, he'd slumped his head and embarked on the road of being a mountain god, and he surpassed the 3,000-year-old hurdle through the divine light…

If nothing happened, the next hurdle would be nine thousand years.
If he were to count it like that, he should still be young, right? If nine thousand years counted as an eighty year old, he would have passed five-ninths…no, right, forty-four years old was still almost enough to be Yao Yao's father.

Calculated on the basis of a sixty year lifespan, he'd be thirty-three years old, barely acceptable.
This way, after another seven or eight years, Yao Yao would be his peer.

Baiju nodded secretly.
Then his eyes fluttered, and he found that the basin underneath him was full, and the extra water trickled out along the edge of the counter, but fortunately, it didn't overflow.

Baiju quickly turned off the tap, pressed the drain at the bottom of the basin, wrung the towel and walked towards Xiao Yao's study.

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The question about age was too direct to the soul.
The old white dog absently wiped Xiao Yao's neck, standing by and watching Xiao Yao slowly buttoning the buttons on the collar of his shirt, his eyes drifted, and he didn't rush forward to help as usual.

“Bai'ge, what's wrong?” Xiao Yao felt that the old dog's eyes were out of focus, and he was a little dazed.
He couldn't help but shake his fingers in front of the old dog and raise his voice slightly, “What are you thinking?”

The old white dog was roused, recovered, touched his nose, and said vaguely, “…It's nothing.”

Xiao Yao, “…”
Xiao Yao said with earnest heart, “Bai'ge, you look into my eyes and speak.”

The old white dog slowly turned his eyes up and blinked.

Xiao Yao leaned on the back of the chair, slightly raised his head and looked at the old white dog's eyes calmly, “What were you thinking about? So absorbed.”

The corner of Baiju's mouth moved slightly, trying to find an excuse, and then he thought of his clumsy acting skills.
So he resigned himself to his fate and said the truth, “I was thinking before, would you despise me for being old.
After all, I have lived for thousands of years…
Although I am still wearing a young body, and my physical condition is indeed in the prime of life.
But I just can't help but think about it.”

“I have lived so long before I met you, and your life was bound to me at it's beginning.
Would you feel it's unfair.” Baiju slowly organised his language, fearing that he couldn't express himself well.
“The world is wonderful, and I’m afraid after a while I won’t be able to attract you.”

It was the first time that the white dog had been concerned about gains and losses, and Xiao Yao took two seconds to realise what the old white dog was trying to express.
Daring to love someone had suddenly given birth to some emotions similar to a mid-life crisis, and he was worrying about his own charm.

Something flashed in his mind and Xiao Yao grasped the glimmer of light, opened his mouth and said, “Before that, you were moving around in the quilt in the morning.
I asked what you were doing, and you asked me if a samoyed or you were more cute?”

Baiju, “…”

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The old white dog who competed with samoyeds and his own puppets, “…………”

The old white dog looked at Xiao Yao's eyes bitterly, and took a breath, “Yao Yao, let me ask you another question.
I didn't finish asking it last time.”
“Am I cuter or is that mini me cuter?”

Xiao Yao was happy, and leaned forward to hug the old white dog's waist.
The answer remained the same, “It's cuter, but I like you.”

The old white dog vaguely felt that the answer was a bit familiar and perfunctory, but he couldn't help but flutter in his heart.
The corners of his mouth were turned up, and his voice was two degrees sweeter, “Really…”

“Really…and don't you think it would be more exciting for two people to watch the wonderful world together?” Xiao Yao hugged the old dog again, comforting him, and planning to adjust his way of getting along with the old dog.

The old white dog could have such a sense of crisis, and Xiao Yao felt  that he wasn't without responsibility.
First of all, the old white dog didn't know his history for the time being and thought that his 20 plus years of experience didn't have much content.
Secondly, he was now very dependent on the old dog, but he still rarely asked the old dog to do anything for him.
 This may have made the old white dog feel that he wasn't needed, and at a loss, and must rely on being cute to maintain his attractive appearance…

How could this old dog know that when he stood in front of Xiao Yao, his bones overflowed with elements that attracted him.

Xiao Yao thought, he would find someone as soon as possible to talk to the old white dog.
The old white dog who was being hugged didn't quite honestly think that he should take his Yao Yao across the bright road and press his to a bed as soon as possible to reach an ulterior relationship earlier.
Yao Yao belongs to him.

Xiao Yao hugged the hot old white dog, and his chrysanthemum felt cold for some reason.

The author has something to say:
The old white dog: I heard that the author wanted to talk about the crisis of old age, but I think I should be middle-aged…