Hearing this, Aunt Zhang was about to sing the rooster's praises, but before she could open her mouth, Jie Jingchen poured the chicken soup into an empty bowl and pushed it in front of her. Her eyes widened. "Jing Si, what is the meaning of this?"
"Aunt Zhang, my wife was being inconsiderate, wasting all your effort. I'm here to apologize. Let's treat this soup as wine for a toast. You wouldn't refuse, would you, Aunt Zhang? Unless... there's really something wrong with this soup." Jie Jingchen spoke apologetically, but his voice was terrifyingly cold.
Aunt Zhang froze, feeling the agony of being held over a fire. 'If it were only my own spit in the soup, I'd just drink it and not feel sick. But Xu Chunyan's spit is in there too, and we even added something more disgusting.'
Xu Chunyan breathed a sigh of relief. 'As long as they don't force me to drink it, I don't care if Aunt Zhang is sacrificed.'
