An Ying listened, her smile gradually froze, followed by a trace of worry, "This is too precious." She had personally experienced the effort that went into completing a sweater.
"I knitted one myself. There was quite a bit of yarn left, so I thought I'd knit another one."
An Ying could tell that the other person was just making excuses. Looking at Aunt Zhang's half-finished sweater, she knew that saying more wouldn't help, so she stopped dwelling on the matter.
Aunt Zhang saw her compromise and then smiled again.
After that, An Ying heard Aunt Zhang start to ramble.
"When Sir just took over the family business, he was very young, and during that time, he was always throwing himself into his work day and night, which caused several bouts of stomach problems," as she spoke, Aunt Zhang paused, sighed deeply, and her face was full of heartache.
