Yang Fu was wearing a single shirt, his chest exposed, with a white towel hanging around his neck. He worked in the tea fields like an old farmer.
Wei Qingfeng stood at the edge of the field, not daring to speak.
Because he knew that President Yang Fu disliked being interrupted for any reason while working in the fields.
In his own words, tea cultivation was an exquisite and wonderful activity, and if tainted by mundane matters, the tea's flavor would change.
Therefore, no matter how important the matter, it must not be mentioned inside this greenhouse.
Wei Qingfeng naturally did not dare to break this rule, so he could only stand obediently at the edge, watching Yang Fu sweating in the tea fields.
It was unclear how much time had passed, but Yang Fu finally seemed to have had his fill. He looked up to the sky and exhaled, then wiped the sweat off his body with the towel as he walked out.
Wei Qingfeng quickly went to greet him, carrying a large teapot in his hand.
