Zhang Qingmei had already made one of the housekeepers set the freshly brewed soup in front of Song Zhizhi, and then affectionately walked with her to the dining room.
Song Zhizhi couldn't refuse and thus ended up sitting at the same table as Zhang Qingmei.
"Give Auntie's cooking a try," Zhang Qingmei said.
Song Zhizhi hesitated for a moment, but eventually picked up the bowl and took a sip.
The taste was genuinely good.
The savory fragrance wasn't cloying at all, even when it lingered on her lips and teeth.
After finishing the soup, Song Zhizhi smiled and said, "Thank you, Auntie, it's really good."
"If you like it, drink more," Zhang Qingmei refilled her bowl and set it aside, "And eat some other things. Baijian said you worked hard last night."
"..." Song Zhizhi felt slightly embarrassed.
What was the definition of working hard, really?
It was merely a bit emotionally and physically exhausting, after all.
