Listening to everyone's "good intentions," Lin Qiao waved her hand repeatedly, displaying a sensible demeanor of turning big issues into small ones, and small ones into nothing, "Forget it, forget it, it's enough that the eggs were found, and as for the pecked vegetable hearts, we can still eat them by cutting the roots."
"Madam Tingfan, don't be so soft, or some people will know how to bully you." Old Mrs. Wang thought Lin Qiao was good in every aspect, except she was too soft-hearted.
Lin Qiao bit her lower lip in grievance, "We're all from the same village."
As soon as she finished speaking, she heard a young man's urgent voice, "Sister-in-law."
Song Tingfan, wearing a crescent-colored jacket, ran over, looking worriedly at Song Rong, Song Qin, and Lin Qiao. Seeing they were fine, he breathed a sigh of relief, "Sister-in-law, what happened?"
Lin Qiao shook her head, seemingly not wanting him to know, "It's nothing."
