When Wu Lan said this, Zhang Yanping instantly perked up, "Auntie, let me wash the vegetables for you."
Song Tan looked at Zhang Yanping with a half-smile:
"Mom, my great-aunt said if Cousin doesn't work then don't let him eat."
"Nonsense." Wu Lan gave her a reproving glance. "Yanping hardly ever comes by, how could we do that?"
Song Tan turned her head and, sure enough, saw Zhang Yanping raise his eyebrows, a smug smile on his face.
She wasn't angry; she simply changed the subject:
"Well, Mom, you must be tired too. I'll just whip up something simple for dinner then, stir-fried pork with Milk Vetch chili peppers."
"And let's stew the preserved meat we've prepared earlier for Brother Yanping. It would be so inappropriate if we didn't make a meat dish when he has come all this way to visit."
"But..." Wu Lan hesitated—it's well-known that nobody liked the stewed meat without adding something from their own field!
