The argument went on until past three o'clock—supper time.
The Giant Cats, still bickering noisily, headed to the Cat Cave Restaurant, where each tree hollow served as a private dining room. They remained in human form as they waited for their meal.
This was the upper level of the gigantic cat tree, with magnificent scenery, the Cat Lamp Kitchen staffed around the clock, and witches always ready to groom the cats' fur.
These witches' job was to care for the fluffy cat lamps. Their weekly pay was six hundred and fifty yuan, but they had chances to contract giant cat lamps or certain rare cat lamps. Food and lodging were included, along with a one-percent share of tips. If they proved trustworthy, they could even receive legal advisory services from cat lawyers.
—Naturally, cat lamps had those who studied witch law. Though they were unreliable most of the time, having them was still better than having nobody!
Before the high-class Cat Lamp Kitchen, Jiang Han instructed two cat lamps with gleaming whiskers:
"Sorry to trouble you. Please carry these piles of cod over."
"Meow-ow! Prime piles of cod!"
The two cat lamps flashed crafty smiles, swayed their tails, and licked their paws—yet did not move an inch.
"...Fine. You'll get a share too."
Only after Jiang Han said this helplessly did the two previously listless cat lamps hum happily. With a flick of their tails, they steadily lifted more than ten plates of cod piles and swiftly carried them into the meeting room like a breeze. Before leaving, they even kindly urged the Giant Cat chef to make two extra specialty dishes for Jiang Han.
Such attentive service made Jiang Han sigh helplessly.
Sigh.
How did that saying go again?
Let cat lamps guard the grain? Mice would run wild