Zhao Gushen rolled up his sleeves, grabbed two pieces of meat, and placed them on the countertop.
The countertop was just at the level of his lower abdomen, the perfect height for Zhao Gushen.
Ye Fei had already put on an apron and was pouring flour into the bowl, preparing to adjust the dough ratio.
She was still breathless from Zhao Gushen's earlier words.
She was hoping to use work to adjust her emotions, but when she turned around, she saw Zhao Gushen wearing an expensive shirt.
"Wait a minute." Ye Fei quickly stopped him from preparing to beat the meat and went to grab an apron for him.
"Put this on, or else it wouldn't be good if something splashed onto your shirt while you're working with the meat." Ye Fei handed the apron to him.
To her surprise, Zhao Gushen didn't take it.
Instead, he opened his palm to show Ye Fei: "I just handled the meat, my hands are dirty. You could help me put it on."
"Why don't you wash your hands?" Ye Fei pointed to the nearby sink.
