"How long are you going to sleep!!!"
Yellow Flowered Cat's roar came out with a pent-up breath from its chest, howling like a hurricane, making the bookstore's doors and windows rattle. A few bookworms that had just crawled out to forage were torn to pieces by the tail of the hurricane.
But this hurricane dispersed into a gentle breeze less than five meters away from the Flower Cat, obediently swirling and brushing past the red clay teapot on the small stove, blowing away the wisp of steam just emerging from the spout.
By the stove, Mr. Wu, who was dozing off, was startled awake by the cat's roar, and muddledly opened his eyes: "What? Is the tea ready? Let it simmer a bit longer... There's no rush, no rush."
"Tea! Tea! Tea!!"
