Li Qingmu shook his head when he heard this, and picked up the silver chopsticks in his hand to eat the vegetables.

Wen Hexuan's small kitchen has always been in charge of Mama Cui, and Mama Cui is already familiar with Li Qingmu's tastes. Therefore, the meals made in the small kitchen are quite suitable for Li Qingmu's appetite.

King Jin glanced at Li Qingmu, who looked indifferent, picked up the white jade pot and poured himself a cup of sake, and took it up to drink lightly.

For a while, in addition to the sound of King Jin holding a pot and pouring wine in the dining room, only the sound of the silver chopsticks in Li Qingmu's hand touching the edge of the bowl remained.

Cui Mama stood on the side and saw that Li Qingmu was about to finish her meal, so she added half a bowl of hot and humid ginseng and pheasant soup to the porcelain bowl, handed it to Li Qingmu and said, "Mei Ji, you can drink some more." This is," glancing at the expressionless King Jin, Mama Cui continued, "This is what Lang Zhong specially explained when he left, and it is very much to replenish his body. ”

Li Qingmu heard the meaning of consolation in Cui's words, glanced at Queen Jin, who was sitting opposite, put down the silver chopsticks, and swallowed the pheasant soup that was as bitter as medicinal juice with a frown.

King Jin is in a bad mood, she is still better behaved at this time.

After putting down the soup bowl, Zhiliu, who was standing on the side, immediately served tea to rinse his mouth.

King Jin ate a few glasses of wine, and at this time his cheeks were already rosy, and he asked in a gloomy voice, "If you don't like to drink, why force it?" ”

Li Qingmu spit out a mouthful of tea into the spittoon, and a trace of anger rose in his heart.

She thought that she would be unhappy if she didn't drink the chicken soup, but she didn't want to drink the chicken soup Jin Wang's face was as black as that.

Unwilling to answer King Jin's words, Li Qingmu had a cold face and left the dining room holding Zhiliu's hand.

Seeing this, Mama Cui sighed in frustration in her heart, took a step back and stood in the corner.

Li Qingmu returned to the outer room in the attic and just sat down, and King Jin also stepped in with a full body of wine.

After Zhiliu served the tea cup to King Jin and Li Qingmu, he pulled Wen Qing and retreated together.

Only King Jin and Li Qingmu were left in the room, and the atmosphere became a little solemn.

Li Qingmu took two bites of the fragrant flower tea and pressed down the medicinal smell in his stomach. When I looked up, I saw that King Jin was also eating tea with a tea cup, and his handsome face was flushed.

As if sensing Li Qingmu's searching gaze, King Jin said without raising his head, "What are you looking at?" ”

Li Qingmu put down the teacup in his hand and asked bluntly, "Why are you angry?" ”

King Jin swallowed a sip of hot tea and succinctly spit out one word, "You." ”

"If people don't offend me, I won't offend people," Li Qingmu sneered disappre一门ly, "Angry for a maid, Lord Wang, you are really a bodhisattva." ”

King Jin raised his head, looked at Li Qingmu with deep eyes, raised his eyebrows and said, "It turns out that that maid was really killed by you." ”

Li Qingmu was slightly stunned when he heard this, and then he understood that King Jin didn't know that Qianzi was killed by her, and the word 'you' just now was just a guess.

Li Qingmu lightly opened his lips and spit out two words, "Childish ......"

"What did you say?" King Jin was a little absent-minded and didn't hear what Li Qingmu said.

Li Qingmu turned his head to the side, looked at the rose painted on the screen and replied, "It's nothing, ask why you're angry." ”

Hearing this, King Jin took a deep breath, stood up and vigorously pushed open the tightly closed window behind him.

With the movements of King Jin, a gust of cold wind swirled in, blowing away the fragrance of tea in a room.

Li Qingmu couldn't help but shudder, and Xiaoxiao's brows furrowed again.

She was afraid of the cold, and since she entered the winter moon, she ordered the rough slaves to burn the attic warm. On weekdays, don't say open the window at night, even when the day is good, you don't open a crack to breathe.