Chapter 125: The Lives of Flowers and Grafts (1)
Although the prince of the dynasty is simple, he is not confused.
On the contrary, he is more than others, and his heart is as clear as a mirror.
Not long ago, when Ling Shang saw the wind brought by Ye Mushen, he had a plan in his heart.
If you can't get rid of Ye Mujing's feelings for herself, it's better to ...... Take advantage of it.
Ye Mujing's bystander Qing, even though he didn't know anything about Ling Shang's background, he also paid attention to his personality and talent everywhere.
The reason why Qingfeng Zhai was able to become famous in Luoyang City overnight was because of the methods of the shopkeeper Ling Shang, and half a point was not worse than that of the Xiaoao Tang master.
In time, if it is said that the Ling Chamber of Commerce will replace the position of Ye Mushen in Luoyang......
Ye Mu Jingding will not be surprised.
However, Ling Shang didn't look like an ambitious person no matter how he looked at it.
Speaking of which, Ye Mushen has no ambitions and ambitions.
But Ling Shang has a strong temperament that is out of the world......
It is not so much that he is a hidden healer who has no quarrel with the world, but rather a gust of wind that occasionally blows through this noisy world......
- He does not belong to this world full of deceit and hidden dangers.
Therefore, when Ling Shang offered to be his staff, or even his right and left hand, Ye Mujing really couldn't believe it.
He did not believe that Ling Shang was interested in court politics or power arts, nor did he believe that Ling Shang wanted to use it for his own benefit......
At the beginning, Ye Mujing asked Ling Shang once why he suddenly wanted to be an official.
Ling Shang's answer made the gentle Prince Jing even more puzzled-
"I don't want to be an official. It's just that after becoming an official, it is easier to do things. ”
Ye Mujing asked, "Then what do you want to do?" ”
Ling Shang laughed so hard that his hair stood on end, "Naturally, it's not a good thing. ”
"Yes......" Ye Mujing thought to himself, a person like Ling Shang must have his own reasons for doing great bad things.
Because of obsession, so blind.
So blind that I forget the principles.
No, not forgetting the principle.
It's because he is a Ling Shang, so Ye Mujing can give up his principles.
After that, Ye Mujing no longer asked Ling Shang "why".
If Ling Shang was willing to tell himself, he would have said it a long time ago.
If not, there must be a reason for him.
In addition to not bothering Ling Shang, Ye Mujing couldn't think of anything else he could do.
After Ye Mujing responded to Ling Shang's request, he received unprecedented courtesy from Ling Shang.
"Courtesy?" Ye Mushen raised his eyebrows, "Brother Jing, how did he treat you?" ”
In the blink of an eye, the tsundere hall master laughed at himself again: That guy has never been polite to himself.
"He served me tea." Ye Mujing's face turned crimson, and the corners of his mouth rose, "Mu Shen, his way of serving tea is really exquisite......"
Ye Mujing used all the gorgeous words to praise Ling Shang's appearance when he served tea, but Ye Mushen frowned when he heard it.
Serving tea?
Ye Mu Shen secretly contrasted, and quickly came to the conclusion:
Compared with giving Yuxue sake, Ling Shang's personal serving of tea is undoubtedly a higher level of treatment.
Although he loves wine more than tea, Ling Shang is too small for himself, right?!
Qingfeng Zhai owes 2,333 taels of tea money and food money to calculate interest, and in the past, he invited himself to drink a glass of wine with a look of his own cabbage being arched by a pig......
After the comparison, the vinegar jar in the heart of the tsundere hall master was overturned at once.
Damned, hateful!
Ling Shang is the person he admires at night, why is he so polite to the prince?
Didn't he just not be by Ling Shang's side for a few days? Can't bear the loneliness like this?
Gas.
Ye Mushen regretted it again, why did he ask such a question.
It's just that I can't find pleasure for myself.