"Yeah, my mom told me that really tasty food usually looks plain. Look how fancy this food is—it can't be any good to eat."
"Aunt Zhou wouldn't even come to eat. She'd rather go back to her room and lie down. Isn't it obvious?"
"She's an elder. She knows more than we do."
"It smells so good... Maybe they added something to it!"
"Right, right! It's not because of that weird sickness, is it?"
A moment ago, while Song Qingya was away, Zhou Huaihua had gotten up from her lounge chair and started gossiping, insinuating that Song Qingya's illness was incurable.
That it might be the highly contagious tuberculosis.
The only reason they had come was out of respect for the Fei Village Chief.
They never expected that after arriving, it would be the Fei Village Chief's sick wife doing the cooking. They were afraid that eating her food would make them sick too.
Therefore, even though the spread of food on the table looked incredibly sumptuous...
