"No need, there's no need for a spoon when drinking porridge."
Lin Qingluo laughed lightly and calmly picked up her chopsticks, as if she didn't notice Qinghe's embarrassment.
"Miss, that girl Zizhu has clumsy hands and feet. She broke a bowl while holding a dish..."
Qinghe looked grateful and tried to persuade her mistress. When her eyes fell on her own dropped spoon, her face turned red.
"How old is she? Just an eight or nine-year-old girl, she doesn't know any better. We can teach her slowly."
Lin Qingluo smiled indifferently, picked up a bun and took a bite.
"It's her good fortune that Miss values her."
Qinghe smiled awkwardly: "Qinghe will talk to Nanny Sun about this later and have her arrange someone to replace Zizhu in sweeping the yard."
"Alright."
Lin Qingluo nodded in satisfaction, focusing on her meal and no longer speaking.
Qinghe stood by, feeling awkward, and closed her mouth.
*
