Tao Meijiao became increasingly uncomfortable with the awkward atmosphere.
Xiao Yuchuan, however, seemed very calm, his hand reaching for a pancake and tearing it into small pieces before placing them onto the empty plate in front of Su Qingyue.
"Chuan'er, it's inappropriate to tear pancakes with hands during a meal," Xiao Chonghuan's displeasure was evident, "It clashes with etiquette. The servants should have cut it with a knife beforehand."
"Master Xiao, I am just a village man," Xiao Yuchuan's face showed little expression, "As a village man, I've basked in the success of my wife and only just managed to become a somewhat wealthy merchant. I like tearing my pancakes with my hands, and I have washed them. My wife doesn't mind the dirt. Moreover, I don't like the servants cutting the pancakes for me; I prefer cooking and making dishes for my wife myself."