Picking tea leaves was not difficult at all.
More importantly, it was very difficult to persist.
If one stood in the same position for too long, one's back and legs would ache.
In less than an hour, Ye Guiwan rested several times.
On the contrary, Zhong Jiayin persevered.
"I'm not as useless as you," she mocked when Ye Guiwan asked.
"That's not convincing at all." Ye Guiwan continued to make things difficult for her. "You're picking tea leaves much slower!"
If she hadn't mentioned it, no one else would have noticed.
This time, everyone finally understood why Zhong Jiayin liked to pick on this and that. She had a bad temper, but her acting skills were not bad.
Thinking about it, she should be a very patient person. However, this patience was not in dealing with people or the ways of the world, but in her work and hobbies.
Picking tea leaves was her job now, so she insisted.