Seeing Tan Wenbin still wanting to peel for himself, Li Zhiyuan hurriedly said, "Brother Binbin, you eat it, I don't really like shrimp."
"Really?" Tan Wenbin was a bit surprised, "Then I will eat it myself."
"Yep."
Secretary Jin brought over a big bowl with a stewed chicken inside.
Ding Dalin fiddled with it using chopsticks and asked, "It's not an old hen?"
"There are no old hens left."
"Ah, how can this be."
Ding Dalin shook his head dissatisfiedly.
Li Sanjiang tried to smooth things over, "Come on, Lord Lin, look at how spoiled you are. Eating chicken and still worrying about whether it's a hen or rooster. Before the liberation, it wasn't easy even to think about having some meat."
Saying this, Li Sanjiang personally took action, picked a plump chicken leg, and placed it in Li Zhiyuan's bowl.
Li Zhiyuan stared at it, not rushing to eat. It wasn't that he was being pretentious, but this chicken, it seemed oddly familiar.
