Chapter 1776 Is There Any Ashes on My King's Face?

Chapter 197 Is there any dust on my king's face?

The place that had been kissed was as hot as if it had been scorched by a hot iron. Her porcelain-white cheeks were burning red in an instant, and even the roots of her ears felt faintly hot.

"You..." She gouged Yan Beicheng a bit annoyedly, but couldn't utter a word.

The corners of Yan Beicheng's lips curled up in joy, and even Qin Ya's knock on the door was much more pleasing to his ears, "Come in."

When Qin Ya came in, she saw that Mo Shanghua's earlobe was red, she knew it in her heart, and couldn't help laughing while covering her lips.

Mo Shanghua became more and more ashamed and annoyed, but she forced herself to straighten her face and said, "Why are you laughing, why don't you hurry up and say something, if you delay, you will not be punished."

"Princess, you are really angry from embarrassment." Qin Ya was not afraid, but instead smiled and muttered something, which caused Mo Shanghua to stare again.

Thinking of the people who were still waiting outside, Qin Ya's smile collapsed a bit, and her complexion was not good. "Mrs. Ping is asking to see you outside, and she said she came to see the princess."

There was a faint trace of displeasure in Mo Shanghua's eyes, which she didn't even notice.

After pondering for a moment, her eyes fell on Yan Beicheng.

Yan Beicheng touched his nose innocently, "Is there any ashes on my face?"

Mo Shanghua didn't answer his words, but she took a glance and looked away, "Please come in."

His face was calm, showing no emotion.

Seeing this, Qin Ya couldn't say anything more, so she ordered a second-class maid to invite him in.

Today, Ping Ji specially dressed up for want to lose, her makeup is exquisite and decent, and she is wearing a tender pink dress, which makes her pink cheeks even more beautiful and charming.

However, even with the cover of makeup, she could still see some slight swelling on her face, as well as unclear five-fingerprints.

As soon as she came in, her gaze first fell on Yan Beicheng, who was full of happiness, "My servant and concubine have seen the prince and concubine."

Yan Beicheng obviously had no interest in her, he just nodded, and didn't say anything, not even a superfluous word.

Moshang Hua was also as usual, with a calm face, neither hot nor cold, "Get up."

Ping Ji stood up as she said.

Mo Shanghua didn't give her a seat, and she didn't say much, she didn't feel embarrassed at all, she smiled to herself: "The prince really cares about the two younger sisters, and after coming back for such a short time, he took sister Nan , The concubine and the younger sister have read it all over. The concubine and concubine are not as lucky as the two younger sisters, so they can only come here by themselves."

After a pause, she glanced sideways at Mu'er beside her, "The servant concubine guessed that the prince must have had a hard time traveling all the way, so he must not have had a good breakfast, so she specially made tremella soup, you may as well have a taste."

"Put this here first." Yan Beicheng nodded at the small table in front of him, and when Mu'er really put the white fungus soup on the small table, he did not move, his eyes followed Moshanghua all the time.

Mo Shanghua also raised her eyes and glanced at the white fungus soup, seeing Yan Beicheng's eyes with a hint of a half-smile, "Ping Ji's craftsmanship is pretty good, I even smell it sweet."

Ping Ji's eyes were immediately stained with a bit of pride, "The concubine learned it specially for the sake of the prince. If it is too bad, she would not dare to bring it in front of the prince."

Mo Shanghua's expression remained unchanged, but her voice suddenly changed, "However, when I heard Qin Ya's report just now, it seemed that Ping Ji came to visit me. I wonder if you have prepared a copy for me?"

It was clearly a calm and waveless voice, but it seemed to carry an endless chill, which made people feel uncontrollable chills.

Ping Ji's face froze, and her mind went blank for a moment, not knowing how to respond.