Lu Qingqing listened to the conversation between Fu Yisheng and Song Xiuluan and hurriedly said, "Mr. Fu, don't joke around. We only have two acres of crops; there's no need for Mr. Fu to work the fields and sully your noble hands."
If the outside world knew that a billionaire was working in their fields, she would be in big trouble.
Moreover, he wouldn't plan to spend Mid-Autumn Festival at her home, would he?
Unfortunately, Lu Qingqing was too embarrassed to ask this question out loud; asking would inevitably seem like she was trying to get rid of him.
"Exactly, don't sully your valuable hands!" Song Xiuluan joined in teasing Fu Yisheng.
Fu Yisheng remained calm and spoke unhurriedly, "A pair of hands with ten fingers, everyone has the same. How can they be distinguished as noble or lowly? Besides, as a guest, I should adapt to the host. I really couldn't stand just sitting around and eating without contributing."