Just as the food was served, Song An and Mrs. Song came in.
Though Lin Qiao was surprised to see Mrs. Song, she still went to get bowls and chopsticks for them.
Mrs. Song, not at all polite, picked up a piece of braised pork and put it in her mouth. Song An gave her a glare, but it was useless.
He pursed his lips and glanced at Lin Qiao, "There's a relative whose family deals in medicinal herbs. Their shop isn't big, but they're honest people. I think he's alright, so I wanted to ask you."
The conversation made the dining table go silent. Song Tingfan gripped his chopsticks tightly, and both Song Qin and Song Rong glanced at him.
Song Qin spoke, "I don't remember any relatives dealing with medicinal herbs."
"It's from my maternal side. They're well-off, never married, more than suited for her," Mrs. Song's words were somewhat disdainful of Lin Qiao.
"If you can't speak properly, just shut up!" Song An reprimanded her in a deep voice.
