Old Zhou rubbed his chest, feeling the pain subside. He waved his hand and said, "Forget it, forget it..."
The village head breathed a sigh of relief.
Zhou Silang puffed out his cheeks, grabbed Uncle Lai's son, and went aside to talk. In no time, Zhou Silang quietly slipped away to find Zhou Daliang and Zhou Dahong.
These two were his good buddies, or as they say, fair-weather friends. Today, they were responsible for serving food at the tables.
Essentially, the quality and quantity of the dishes on a table depended half on them, and the other half on the kitchen.
And Zhou Silang was even more familiar with the folks in the kitchen, as his wife was among them.
It wasn't long before Zhou Silang returned, took his seat again, and after perfunctorily bowing twice to the members of the Zhang family, responded with a slight bow as a token of politeness.
Zhou Silang secretly curled his lip and scoffed inwardly.
