“This dog was poisoned on my orders!” Emily Foster took over from Martha Hill at this moment, speaking as her gaze swept over the dead Tibetan mastiff, a look of disgust appearing on her face.

“Why?” Henry Clark asked loudly, clearly angry. If the Tibetan mastiff had died of illness, that would be one thing, but now it turned out Emily Foster had poisoned it, which Henry Clark couldn’t understand. After all, no matter what, the mastiff was still a living creature, and he didn’t want to live with a woman who had no respect for life.

“Hmph, Your Highness really is forgetful. If you don’t understand, you can have someone ask around on Tokyo Street and see how many people have been bitten by this dog, and how many people wish they could skin it alive?” Emily Foster replied angrily. In the past, Henry Clark’s favorite thing was to stroll the streets with this big dog named Bo Hu’er. The dog, a gift from Tibet, was fierce by nature and often hurt people. Many had been bitten, and not only did Henry Clark do nothing, he would even cheer and laugh on the side. It could be said that half of Henry Clark’s bad reputation came from this vicious dog.

Hearing Emily Foster’s words, Henry Clark broke out in a cold sweat, his expression turning awkward. A dog is still a dog, no matter how vicious, and the key is always the owner. Emily Foster was ostensibly scolding the dog, but in reality, she was criticizing Henry Clark for being so detestable. Although these things were done by the previous Henry Clark, the current Henry Clark had no way to defend himself.

“Ahem… well… since it was a vicious dog and it hurt people, then it deserved to die. By the way, it didn’t kill anyone, did it?” Henry Clark shamelessly shifted all the blame onto the dog, then asked worriedly. He was truly afraid the previous Henry Clark had left him with a murder case.

“Don’t worry, Your Highness. Bo Hu’er used to be very well-behaved, just a bit mischievous at times, liked to play pranks, and only hurt people by accident. But it never killed anyone!” Old Martha, standing nearby, hurried to defend his beloved dog when he heard Henry Clark call Bo Hu’er a vicious dog.

“As long as it didn’t kill anyone!” Henry Clark finally relaxed. He wasn’t a kind person, and would take revenge on those who crossed him, but that didn’t include innocent commoners.

“Woo… woo…” At that moment, the little puppy in Old Martha’s arms let out another pained whimper, its eyes opening just a slit, looking pitiful.

“What’s wrong with this puppy?” Henry Clark asked again.

As soon as Henry Clark asked about the puppy, Old Martha immediately began to weep bitterly again. “Your Highness, it’s all my fault for being careless. When Bo Hu’er was about to go today, I wanted to give him a good meal, so I mixed the poison with egg whites for him. After Bo Hu’er died, I was so heartbroken I forgot to clean up. The litter of puppies born recently ate the leftover poison. The others ate earlier and are all dead now—only this one is still alive, but it doesn’t look like it’ll last long. And this whole litter was Bo Hu’er’s offspring. Poor Bo Hu’er, not even a descendant left after death. I’ve let him down!”

By the end, Old Martha was crying even harder, as if he’d lost a son. He wasn’t Han Chinese; in fact, he was half Han and half Tibetan, and had grown up in Tibet with his Tibetan mother. He had deep feelings for Tibetan mastiffs, and had raised Bo Hu’er himself. Now, having killed Bo Hu’er with his own hands, the pain in his heart was unimaginable.

“Then what are you waiting for? Hurry and find a vet to take a look!” Henry Clark felt sorry for Old Martha’s tears, but even more so for Bo Hu’er, who had ended up with such a bad reputation because of an unworthy owner, and in the end not only was poisoned himself, but even his offspring were implicated.

“It’s useless. Old Martha is actually a pretty good vet himself, and this dog was poisoned with arsenic. It’s been almost two hours now—the poison has already reached the organs. Even a celestial immortal couldn’t save it. But maybe it’s for the best. With one less vicious dog, certain people will have one less reason to be cursed!” Emily Foster said lightly.

Emily Foster’s repeated veiled sarcasm made Henry Clark angry. He glared at her, snatched the puppy from Old Martha’s arms, and said coldly, “It’s still a life, after all. I’m not as cold-blooded as some women. Today, I must save it!”

With that, Henry Clark turned and left the animal yard. Emily Foster, watching his back, gave a scornful smile. She didn’t believe a word he said. Arsenic was a deadly poison—after two hours, not even a tiger could survive, let alone a puppy.

Chapter 9: Gastric Lavage

“Little Sprout! Little Sprout! Come out and save a life, quick!” Henry Clark ran back to his bedroom with the little black puppy in his arms. Outside the bedroom was a small side room where Little Daisy lived. Usually, when nothing was going on, Little Daisy liked to hide in there and eat snacks. Henry Clark always wanted some too, but never had the nerve to ask a little girl for treats.

Sure enough, Little Daisy was there. Hearing Henry Clark’s call, she immediately ran out. But when Henry Clark saw Little Daisy, he was so startled he almost ran away—her whole face was covered in white foam, making her look like a ghost.