Busy until mid-July,
Chen Pingsheng finally finalized a series of specific standards for Tengsheng's entire fresh produce.
All that was left was perfecting the training under the standard procedure.
The little baby at home was a month and a half old, her eyes wide with eagerness to see the big world outside.
Chen An'an was now on vacation, and lately, she'd become engrossed in teaching her little sister.
Since her own grades were beyond hope, she couldn't let her sister follow the same path.
As the elder sister, it was her duty to take responsibility.
"Goose, goose, goose—the cricket flies to the sky, white feathers float on dew, red dates aren't tasty."
"Chen An'an, what are you doing?"
Chen Xinyi lay in her baby seat, chewing on her little finger, adorably watching her sister perform, giggling from time to time.
Chen An'an stood beside her, dramatically reciting her version of ancient poetry.
If the original poets heard her, they'd probably be unable to rest in peace.
