Widow Zhao's meal tickets remained unspent.
The couple from the Yu family were just ordinary workers, and they didn't have the habit of dining out to begin with. They also knew that saving up a few meal tickets wasn't easy in the countryside, so it made more sense to eat at home.
Four people, two bicycles; Mr. Yu with Mrs. Yu, Widow Zhao with Yu Xiangqin.
"Daughter, why don't we just eat out after all? My cooking... it's rough, and your parents might not like it," Widow Zhao, sitting on the back seat, tugged at Yu Xiangqin's sleeve and whispered.
Yu Xiangqin retorted irritably, "Gosh, how many times are you going to drone on about this? We're almost at the village, why bring it up now? My parents aren't picky, they're not picky! How many times do I have to say it?"
