Professor Xie, isn't this a case of forcing customers to buy products that don't match the

That evening, Shang Song quietly returned the luxury cat house that hadn't arrived.

After all, compared to that luxurious cat house, his luxurious cat house was like a bridge hole.

After he finished showering, he snuggled comfortably in Xie Jing's arms, picked up his phone, and started browsing various trendy cat beds, cat toys, and automatic feeders.

He was swiping the screen when Xie Jing suddenly snatched his phone away.

Shang Song was taken aback and turned to look at Xie Jing: "What are you doing?"

Xie Jing did not answer, but simply slid his fingertips slowly across the screen, his expression showing the focused seriousness he usually displayed when dealing with ancient books.

Shang Song curiously leaned over and discovered that Xie Jing was looking at the product details page of that popular cat house.

"The filling of this cat bed contains synthetic fibers, which easily generate static electricity and attract dust and cat hair." Xie Jing scrolled to the next page. "Moreover, although the outer fabric is claimed to be wear-resistant, most user reviews mention pilling, so I don't recommend buying it."

Shang Song: "...Huh?"

Xie Jing exited that product and clicked on another one, a cat toy.

Xie Jing glanced at it a few times and then shook his head: "The core component of this toy is plastic gears, which are prone to making noise when running for a long time. Cats' hearing is much more sensitive than humans', and long-term exposure to unknown noise may cause stress reactions. I do not recommend buying it."

Shang Song: "…………"

Xie Jing swiped a few more times, clicked on an automatic feeder, and finally—did not recommend buying it.

Shang Song: "………………"

He watched helplessly as Xie Jing rejected each item in his shopping cart.

The reasons range from material safety to structural design, from user reviews to quality inspection reports.

The arguments are clear and well-reasoned.

"Then, what should we buy?" Shang Song was a little confused.

Xie Jing's fingers flew across the screen, occasionally switching to another page to compare parameters, before placing an order for a cat bed, scratching post, cat toys, cat comb, cat nail clippers, cat toothpaste and toothbrush...

They didn't buy cat food, cat treats, or canned food.

"Xie Jing, why didn't you buy any cat food?" Shang Song couldn't help but ask. "That bag of cat food I brought back from the pet store won't last two days."

Xie Jing continued picking out cat toys, her tone still indifferent, "Those commercial cat foods have unclear sources of ingredients, many additives, heavy palatability enhancers, and unbalanced nutrition, making them unsuitable for long-term consumption."

Shang Song: "...What will Mimi eat?"

Xie Jing, holding Shang Song's phone, finished ordering the last set of cat toys and turned to look at him: "I've already asked Lin Zhou to find a chef who is good at making fresh cat food. Before that, the kitchen can make some simple transitional meals with fresh ingredients."

Shang Song opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, finally uttering a sound: "...Huh?"

To hire a chef specifically for cats?

but……

There were twenty-six chefs serving the two of them at Genting Highlands...

Xie Jing only hired one cat food chef...

It doesn't seem like... it's that exaggerated...?

Shang Song could only console himself with this thought.

the next day.

Shang Song went to the cat room to see Mimi and found that all of Mimi's cat food, cat treats, and canned food had been put into a glass cabinet on a high shelf by Xie Jing.

It's obvious that they're not protecting your breasts.

It's him.

That height.

He had to stand on a small stool to get it.

Meanwhile, Mimi was munching on a few shelled shrimp in her cat bowl, purring contentedly.

Another day later, the cat food chef was in place.

Every day, this chef works in a separate workshop on the 82nd floor of Genting Highlands, processing freshly purchased meat, offal, and vegetables.

She prepares cat food suitable for Mimi every day based on Mimi's age, weight, and health condition.

So, Mimi ate slow-cooked Wagyu beef, bluefin tuna belly, and shredded salmon with unsalted broccoli shreds every day... and Mimi visibly became rounder.

Xie Jing, without fail, sits in the cat room before taking a bath every day and puts a disposable isolation pad on her lap.

At this time, no matter what Mimi is doing, she will obediently walk over and be scooped up by Xie Jing onto his lap for his daily grooming routine.

Mimi takes a bath once a week, which is done jointly by Xie Jing and Shang Song.

Xie Jing was in charge of adjusting the water temperature, controlling the nipples, and rinsing, while Shang Song was in charge of applying shower gel and rubbing.

Mimi struggled at first, but after getting used to the bath, she stopped fussing.

Although Xie Jing never allowed Mimi to roam freely on the 88th floor of the Cloud Top, he did install a suspended cat bed on the floor-to-ceiling window of the cat room so that Mimi could look down at the city below.

After three months, Mimi grew into a big, lively, and glossy-smooth cat.

It was extremely obsequious to Xie Jing, fairly friendly to Shang Song, kept a polite distance from Lin Zhou, and ignored the staff who delivered food from the 82nd floor.

In short, it became a very arrogant "Mi-boss".

That day, Shang Song received a follow-up call from the pet store after three months.

On the other end of the phone, Xiaoyu's voice was full of energy: "Brother Shangsong! How's the little orange cat? Does it miss Xiaoyu? How many cat treats has it eaten this month? What about its canned food? What brand of cat food does it like?"

Shang Song watched Mimi elegantly eating her "slow-cooked Wagyu beef with organic catnip flakes," then glanced at the cat treats and canned cat food that Xie Jing had neglected, paused for three seconds, and then answered:

"zero."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone, followed by Xiaoyu's piercing scream:

"Meow?! Not a single cat treat?! Not a single canned cat food?! Not even cat food?! Brother Shang Song! Are you out of money?! Can't you afford to keep this cat?!"

"Poor little orange cat! You've gotten so skinny, you're practically a dried-up cat with a flat belly! Address! Quickly give Xiaoyu the address! Xiaoyu needs to take Brother Han to rescue it!"

Shang Song quickly moved the phone away, and only spoke after the wailing on the other end turned into sobbing:

"It didn't become a skinny cat with a flat belly; it gained three and a half pounds, and its fur is so shiny you could use it to apply shampoo. It lives in a room that's even more luxurious than my bedroom, and it has a private chef who personally approves the menus so that it's different every day."

On the other end of the phone, Xiaoyu whispered a confirmation: "...Not the same thing every day?"

"Hmm, today we're having sous-vide Wagyu beef with organic catnip flakes, and yesterday we had pan-fried lamb chops with pumpkin puree..." Shang Song began reciting the dishes without any emotion, listing more than a dozen in a row.

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

It was so quiet that Shang Song thought the signal was bad and couldn't help but feed him a few times.

Then, he heard Xiaoyu repeat softly in a trembling voice, "...Meow? Slow-cooked...Wabi beef? Lamb chops...Tuna...?"

"That's right," Shang Song said matter-of-factly. "They're all the freshest ingredients, scientifically proportioned. My Mimi's become so picky about food these days; she won't even sniff the cat treats or canned food."

There was another long silence on the other end of the phone, then suddenly a meow that faded into the distance.

"Meow! Sir! Did you hear that?! This little orange cat eats a different thing every day! Today I don't want grilled fish! I don't want stewed fish either! I don't want fish balls either! I've been eating that for over a thousand years! I want something different! I want that sous-vide Wagyu beef! And that bluefin tuna!"

Shang Song: "???"

More than a thousand years? What?! More than a thousand years?!

Has this kid been watching too many cartoons and is his adolescent delusions acting up again?

Shang Song fed him a few more times, but no one paid any attention, so he had no choice but to hang up the phone.