Zheng Tan accepted the old lady's invitation with composure and hopped onto the couch next to him to lie down. The caretaker had wanted to say something, but seeing that the old lady didn't mind, she held her tongue. However, she was thinking that later she should go out to buy some flea medicine and the like; she had heard that the fleas were rampant on outdoor cats, and she didn't know if they would bring fleas inside. Just to be safe, it was better to take precautions.
Zheng Tan was aware of the caretaker's not-so-friendly attitude towards him, but didn't sense any malice—nothing beyond a little pettiness, which he could ignore.
The caretaker placed a small bowl of warm fish soup on the side table of the sofa chair. Zheng Tan sniffed it but didn't eat. He wasn't hungry, and moreover, he didn't eat carelessly when outside, but most importantly, there was half a fish head in the bowl, and Zheng Tan didn't like to eat fish heads.
