"Maybe you don't have to eat."
Qingyao and Mochou immediately breathed a sigh of relief.
But as they looked up at him, they still saw a hint of loneliness in his eyes. Qingyao's heart stirred, and she immediately put on a look of utter determination, speaking in a clear voice:
"We'll eat. We usually eat at least a bowl. This porridge is a bit bitter, but it's not that hard to eat. Who made it? Wuqing. To be able to eat food made by Wuqing's own hands, perhaps only the two of us can."
"That's true."
Wuqing had already agreed, his expression unconsciously returning to his usual domineering demeanor, with a hint of disdain. He had never imagined that he would one day personally cook for someone. Only she gave him this impulse...
His words had truly cornered the two women. In the end, they forced themselves to drink the bowl of dark, mushy porridge, vowing never to let him enter the kitchen again.
After breakfast, Mochou collected the dishes and left. In the living room, Qingyao and Wuqing sat and chatted.
At this moment, Qingfeng walked in from outside. The moment he saw Qingyao, his pupils deepened. Remembering the words he had overheard her say earlier, he felt a chilling coldness all over.
Qingyao looked up at Qingfeng. On this trip out of the valley, for some reason, she sensed that Qingfeng seemed to dislike her intensely, and this feeling was now even stronger. Had she done something to provoke this young man?
"Young Master, don't you have something to do?"
Qingfeng spoke, reminding Wuqing. Wuqing's exquisite face was filled with a murderous intent, and the anger radiating from him took a long time to dissipate before he finally said, "Let's go."
Turning to look at Qingyao, his expression became much softer, and his eyes were clear as he said, "I'm going out on business."
"Alright, go ahead." Qingyao stood up and saw them off to the door. Watching them leave the small courtyard, the corners of her lips couldn't help but curl up. The current scene of her and Wuqing truly resembled a normal young couple, living a peaceful yet tranquil life. But why was there a sense of unease looming in her heart?
Qingfeng wouldn't hate her for no reason. What had happened to make him unhappy?
Qingyao thought earnestly, trying hard, but she couldn't find anything she had done to offend him. Mochou walked over and asked strangely, "Miss, what's wrong?"
"Nothing." Shaking her head, she wondered if she was overthinking things. This place was very secluded. She didn't know what Wuqing was going out to do, but since he didn't tell her, she naturally wouldn't pry. Everyone had their own affairs.
Qingfeng pushed Wuqing out of the courtyard. They remained silent all the way. After a long while, Wuqing's voice finally broke the silence.
"Qingfeng, you'd better not make me angry. You know what my taboos are."
"Young Master?" Qingfeng called out, a strong urge rising in his heart to tell his Young Master that no matter how much he paid for that woman, it would be in vain.
That woman was simply cold-blooded and heartless. He treated her so well, yet she didn't realize her feelings for their Young Master. Her words today had angered him too much.
"Don't say anything. I have my principles in doing things."
Wuqing warned coldly, his voice deepening as he asked, "Where are they now?"
"They are waiting just ahead." Qingfeng dared not say anything more. Others might not know, but he knew how indifferent their Young Master became when he was in his bloodthirsty state. The world's appellation was not given for nothing.
He, the bloodthirsty man in the eyes of the world, was only good to that woman. If he told this entire matter to that woman, would she be able to persuade him?
Qingfeng pondered, but then he thought that she didn't like their Young Master at all, so how could she help him?
The small courtyard was silent. It was late summer, and the sky was still very hot. Qingyao lay on the lounge chair under the ginkgo tree, closing her eyes comfortably to rest. Suddenly, she heard footsteps. She opened her eyes and looked over. It was Qingfeng returning, but Wuqing was nowhere to be seen. She frowned in confusion.
Since Wuqing hadn't returned, it was a good opportunity to ask Qingfeng why he disliked her.
Acting on her thought, Qingyao abruptly opened her eyes and looked at Qingfeng. The young man's face was dark and gloomy, and his pupils were filled with darkness.
"Qingfeng, why have you returned?"
Qingyao pulled at the corner of her lips slightly. Since he was cold, there was no need for her to put on a smile, but she was still very curious why his demeanor had changed so drastically.
"It was the Young Master who sent me back. He had some business to attend to and asked me to bring you a message."
After speaking, he handed over a letter. Qingyao accepted it indifferently and slowly opened it, but there wasn't a single word on it. She raised her eyebrows in surprise.
"Qingfeng, what is going on?"
Qingfeng's expression suddenly turned cold, and he said with malice, "I hate you. I hate all of you who intruded into Wuqing Valley. You will bring harm to the Young Master, so I cannot let you live."
"Harm him? Why?" Qingyao was completely baffled. By the end, her fingertips felt a numb pain, causing her fingers to tremble. The letter drifted down to the ground. Her eyes widened, her face filled with disbelief.
What had she done to make Qingfeng want her dead?
"What have I done to make you hate me so much?"
After Qingyao spoke, she felt a sharp pain in her chest. She looked down at her hand; her fingers were purplish-red, clearly showing signs of poisoning. Her head began to spin, her face turning as pale as a piece of paper. Tiny beads of sweat broke out, and her body began to convicvulse uncontrollably.
At this moment, Mochou came out from the inner room. The moment she saw her mistress in such agony, the bowl of tremella porridge she was holding slipped from her hands and fell to the ground with a thud. She rushed over like a madwoman, screaming.
"Miss, Miss, what's wrong?"
After speaking, she reached out and hugged Qingyao, immediately noticing the blackish aura covering her pale face and the crimson color on her five fingers.
Her mistress had been poisoned! How could she have been poisoned like this? Mochou panicked and burst into tears, feeling as if the sky had fallen.
"Miss, Miss."
"Don't cry," Qingyao said intermittently, a bitter smile on her lips. She had never dreamed that Qingfeng would harm her. What deep enmity did they have? She raised her eyes with difficulty and looked at him, "Why, Qingfeng, how have I harmed him?"
Qingfeng stumbled a step. Looking at her in such pain, he didn't feel good.
The happy memories in the valley all flooded into his mind, but if she were to exist, the Young Master would definitely be in danger...
"Because your existence will bring harm to the Young Master. The Young Master will lose his life."
He said coldly, not regretting his actions. If she truly died, he would accompany her with his own life, but at least the Young Master would be safe.
Mochou, hearing their conversation, knew that Qingfeng had poisoned her mistress. She immediately shrieked hysterically, "Qingfeng, you lunatic! What deep hatred do we have with you that you would harm our mistress? Why?"
At this time, Qingyao's consciousness was becoming hazy. She forced her eyes open and looked at Mochou, saying softly.
"Mochou, don't cry. If I die, you and Moyu take Xiao Yuer and leave Wuqing Valley. Tell Xiao Yuer that I forgive her."