Gu Xiaoyu, who was in the room, heard the commotion and ran out. "Don't worry, leave this to me. I'll go and give it to them as soon as possible!"
"We've been busy all year round, and everyone can finally get a few copper coins to celebrate it with. I'll definitely give them what they deserve."
"Thank you for your trouble."
"By the way," Gu Xiaoyu said as she handed over the clay pot in her hand. "Poor families like us don't have anything to give you to thank you. These are pickled vegetables I usually pickle at home. Take it back for you and Jiaojiao."
Just as Zhao Zhan was about to decline, Yang Maozhong took the jar and stuffed it into Zhao Zhan's hands without giving him a chance to explain. "My wife's cooking skills are average, but I know she can make great pickled vegetables. You've helped us so much. If you don't accept it, we won't even be able to spend the New Year in peace. Alright, it's getting late, you should hurry back."
