"Xi Feng—," Zong Yunqian called out upon seeing this.
Xing Yu, seeing this, hurriedly passed over the flower shovel. "Thank you, Brother Xi Feng."
Xi Feng's face turned slightly red, and for a moment he forgot to speak. The next moment his hand sank, the small shovel was heavier than he had imagined. He looked at Xing Yu in disbelief. Had this little girl carried the iron shovel along with those small tables and stools all by herself?
"In the past when we were outside, Xi Feng used to transport good varieties of flowers back, don't worry," Zong Yunqian said.
Soon, Xi Feng had dug up an orchid, its roots wrapped in a thick clump of soil.
Yin He immediately took it, quickly pulling out a cloth bag from somewhere to cover the roots, holding it in hand.
"Thank you—"
