Ma Tao had told Shen Xin before that raising a giant panda was actually simple. It was just a normal job, not fundamentally different from raising a cat or a dog.
But that was just talk.
This was a giant panda, after all. A creature in a class of its own, one that could be sent abroad to earn foreign currency, with a history stretching back eight million years.
From ninety-nine-year-olds to three-year-olds, men and women, East and West—there was hardly anyone who didn't like them or find them adorable.
Even the World Wildlife Fund had specifically chosen its image for their logo.
How could such a rare animal really be raised like a cat or a dog?
That's why raising a panda was a delicate business.
In their daily work, Ma Tao's team did their absolute best, meticulously considering every single detail, from food to living quarters.
They were afraid of it getting sick, afraid of it having an accident.
They had contingency plans for many possible emergencies.
