Song Lin's face turned ugly, "Mother, if you can't speak nicely, don't speak at all." His aunt clearly had their child's best interests at heart, and he should have just agreed, instead of being confrontational.
Mrs. Song, embarrassed and without face, muttered, "I'm just speaking the truth."
The atmosphere became awkward.
To ease the tension, Li Jiaoyang started to inquire about learning to weave from Old Mrs. Qin.
Old Mrs. Qin finally cracked a slow smile, "Qiaoqiao must have told you about it, we've taken an order from the supply and marketing cooperative. In half a month, we need to deliver at least 200 woven vases to them every week, and we're short on hands. If you're interested, come to my house later, it's very simple, you'll learn it right away. I'll pay you ten cents for each one."
