Han Qiu's cold lips twitched involuntarily, truly nothing her ladyship dared not say.
"I apologize, dear guest, my granddaughter is short-sighted, here is the bean curd you ordered." The old woman, busy at the stove, heard this and hurriedly came over to take the tray from her granddaughter's hands, placing bowls of bean curd in front of the guests one by one. When it was Zhou Mu's turn, she also paused, her hand shook, and the bean curd seemed about to spill out.
Gu Changsheng's quick reflexes saved the trembling bowl, and as he looked at the old woman, he realized that even at the age of sixty or seventy, she could still be stunned by a handsome man. He glared at Zhou Mu unsatisfiedly and resentfully set the bowl down in front of him, unable to resist muttering, "What an evildoer! A disaster! Preying on both the old and the young!"
