"We've only run such a short distance, no need to rest, consider it a warm-up. The next part of training can begin."
"Don't rush, don't rush!" Aunt Zhang Hong wasn't very familiar with their professional training yet, so she took out her notebook and looked again:
"Hold on, I'll go call everyone over. It's been more than twenty minutes, the snow fungus soup should be finished by now, right?"
...
On average, each person had two bowls of snow fungus soup, no matter how leisurely they drank it, by now it's indeed all in their stomachs.
The group sat together, for the moment no one broke the ice by actively chatting with the opposite sex.
Liang An, being the top one, logically should have someone come and strike up a conversation, but Aunt Zhang Hong told him to know when to stop.
Hence he had no choice but to gather the buckets and whatnot, silently watching the boss's famous tongue-tied cousin—who was currently pretending to be mute, silently and deftly collecting the dishes.
