might as well do it all at once!" "Father, are you going to harm the King Xin Yao begs her father to show mercy and not hurt the King" 。Although she was placed by Lan Bo to confuse Xuan Yuan Che,...Following Su Ziyi back to the inn, as soon as we entered, we saw a maid kneeling on the ground with tear-filled eyes, holding onto her legs and sobbing uncontrollably. "Wuwu... Princess, you're finally back! You scared me to death! If anything happened to you, this servant would die a thousand deaths to atone for my negligence, wuwu..."

The maid cried so sadly, her tears and snot running all over Su Qingying's clothes.

Glancing disdainfully at the tears and snot on her clothes, Su Qingying twitched the corner of her mouth. She remembered this maid; she was her personal maidservant named Xi'er, exceptionally loyal to the original owner.

"Alright, alright, I'm back now, aren't I No crying, no crying." She tugged at the corner of her mouth and lightly patted Xi'er's trembling shoulders. "Xi'er, if you keep crying, your princess will starve to death. I haven't eaten anything all day."

"Oh! My foolish mind! Princess, please wait a moment, I'll go prepare your meal right away." Hearing that Su Qingying was hungry, Xi'er quickly wiped her tears and rushed to the kitchen.

Su Qingying looked at her fiery back and shook her head helplessly, a warmth spreading in her heart.

This girl is pretty good, she's very loyal, she likes it.

In the guest room, Su Qingying, after a satisfying meal and a warm bath, sat down at the dressing table with her round belly.

She hasn't had a good look at her own body yet, only knowing that she has moles, ugly enough to scare people. She needs to study those toxins carefully and see if she can find an antidote.

Sitting at her dressing table, through the blurry copper mirror, Su Qingying finally knew what she looked like.

>

< > Very ugly! < >

Very ugly! stood before Su Qingying and looked around. 。"What sound are you talking about You must have misheard. Hurry up and get ready for the Emperor's lunch. If the Emperor blames us, can you take responsib...