Future Pet Shop Nove Chapter 41: Cheeky Has Its Uses

Chapter 41: Chapter 41: Cheeky Has Its Uses

"Alright, stop. That breathing sound is absolutely awful. Practice on your own when you get back. Next, we’ll start learning the third breathing thod: in a single breath, count from 1 to 10, then 20. The higher you can count, the better. But take it slow, one step at a ti. Don’t overdo it at the start, or you’ll pass out." It seed even Cheeky couldn’t stand the terrible noise.

After they finished practicing breathing rhythms, Cheeky taught him a few vocal warm-up exercises. Then, their three hours of booked ti were up, and Shen Yibin led Hah’Er out of the private room.

"We finally made it through," Shen Yibin muttered. After paying the bill and returning to the shop, he collapsed onto the sofa, completely devoid of hope. The thought that from now on, he’d have to practice first thing every morning, and then go to the KTV to sing tunes for Master Cheeky, made him lose all faith in the future.

"Mmph!" Fortunately, Hah’Er was far more considerate and well-behaved than the parrot. Seeing Shen Yibin’s distress, it brought him tea, fetched him water, and even massaged his calves. Shen Yibin’s misery vanished in an instant, and his spirits were lifted.

’Sigh, I only have to put up with this difficult master for three months,’ Shen Yibin thought. ’I should focus on running the shop and find a suitable owner for him as soon as possible. I’ll be free once soone buys him.’

"Excuse , is this Mr. Shen Yibin’s pet shop?" Just as Shen Yibin was about to get up and tidy the shop, a man with a cara slung over his shoulder walked in. His eyes lit up the mont he saw Hah’Er. "So there really is a panda here! The trip wasn’t a waste." With that, he raised his cara and aid it at Hah’Er, ready to snap a photo.

’A reporter?’ Seeing the man’s deanor, Shen Yibin imdiately guessed his profession. ’Even if you are a reporter, is it really okay to just start taking pictures without my permission?’

"Sir, this is a private establishnt. Photography is not permitted," Shen Yibin said. Since the man had been rude first, Shen Yibin saw no need to give him a warm welco. He stepped forward to block the lens. "Sir, we are not accepting interviews. Please leave and don’t disturb our business."

"I have the right to report, and you can’t interfere," the reporter retorted. "Furthermore, I believe you may have acquired this panda through illegal ans. I’d like you to explain that to

and our readers." Far from backing down, the reporter whipped out a recording pen and struck an interview pose. It was clear he had no intention of leaving until he got a satisfactory answer.

Shen Yibin wasted his breath arguing, but the man wouldn’t budge. He glanced at the police car parked across the street and saw two officers he didn’t recognize. It seed Bai Yanni and Li were already off-duty, and Shen Yibin didn’t want to bother them.

’This guy is so damn persistent! I’ve been talking for ages, and it’s getting

nowhere.’ Shen Yibin stewed. ’Wait... persistent talker?’ Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cheeky pecking at a fig on the coffee table. ’This reporter might be a smooth talker, but he’s leagues below Cheeky. Maybe I should let Cheeky handle him?’

"I have to feed my pets now," Shen Yibin said, giving up on arguing with the man any further. "If you have any more questions, you can take them up with my press secretary."

"Press secretary?" The reporter looked around the shop, puzzled. Besides a panda, a parrot, and a few cats and dogs, there were no other living beings in sight. ’Where on earth is this press secretary?’ he wondered.

"Cheeky, you handle him," Shen Yibin whispered. "Get rid of him, and you’ll get an extra fig tonight." ’Ti to release the hounds... oh, wait, I an release Cheeky.’ At the promise of a treat, Cheeky imdiately flapped his wings and flew over. He began to speak, paying no mind to the reporter’s astonishnt.

"Good day, sir. I am the press secretary for this simple-minded shopkeeper," Cheeky began. "Allow

to introduce myself. I am a Blue-fronted Amazon parrot of noble South Arican lineage. My august na is Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno María de los Redios Cipriano de la Santísima Trinidad Clito Ruíz y Picasso. And what is your na?" Before the reporter could answer, Cheeky waved a wing dismissively. "Actually, never mind. Don’t bother telling . A magnificent being such as myself wouldn’t deign to rember the na of a minor character, anyway."

He had traveled far and wide over the years, but never in his wildest dreams did he expect to co to Yunzhong only to be looked down upon by a parrot. The reporter was seething. "I am a reporter for the *XX Daily*! Our paper is widely influential! I—"

"And so what?" The parrot circled the reporter, scrutinizing his attire. When it spotted a paper slip sticking out of the man’s pocket, the parrot cackled. "BWAHAHAHA! A reporter who has to take a hard-seat train for business trips? Your newspaper wouldn’t even spring for a plane ticket? So, tell , is your paper that broke, or are you just that unimportant?"

"Just look at you! Look at that outfit! It’s not even as nice as what this simple-minded shopkeeper is wearing. My dear sir, you’re living a truly miserable existence." The reporter’s face flushed crimson. Cheeky flew to the back of the sofa in front of him and landed. "Good heavens, I’m actually starting to pity you. Just think about it: your boss hears so little rumor, barks an order, and you have to give up your vacation, take a ager travel allowance to ride a hard-seat train... BWAHAHAHA, a hard-seat train! All to rush over here for so pointless interview."

"And for what? So you can write a story that might not even get published and no one will read? He’s not going to give you a raise or a bonus. No one cares about your effort, no one will notice your results, and your career will still be stuck in a rut." Cheeky clicked his tongue as if terribly disappointed. "Can’t you muster even a tiny shred of courage? Even the size of a mouse’s tail tip? Just tell your boss ’no’? Rip up your press pass, slap your resignation letter on his desk, and yell, ’I’m done with this crap! I quit!’"

"I..." The poor reporter opened his mouth, wanting to offer so defense, but it seed Cheeky’s words had hit a little too close to ho.

But Cheeky gave him no opportunity to interject, unleashing another machine-gun burst of criticism and contempt. The reporter’s face shifted from crimson to a deathly pale as he waged a fierce internal battle. ’He’s right,’ the reporter thought. ’Am I really going to keep doing this dead-end job forever?’

"Stop! Just stop!" After enduring the onslaught for ten minutes, the reporter finally broke under Cheeky’s verbal bombardnt. He clapped his hands over his ears and fled the pet shop in a miserable retreat.

Shen Yibin and Hah’Er both gave Cheeky a thumbs-up. ’Looks like the little troublemaker is a tiny bit useful sotis, after all,’ Shen Yibin thought.