Shang Qing quickly denied with wide eyes, "It wasn’t . It was our nanny. When I left in the morning, I secretly put it in the thermal box while they weren’t paying attention..." As she spoke, Shang Qing suddenly exclaid, "I forgot to bring you several kinds of pickled vegetables."
Shang Qing’s expression was extrely regretful, and Dongfang Yu let out a light laugh, "This is already very good."
The porridge was all gone, and eating pickles dry like this would make one very thirsty, so let’s talk about it at noon.
At this mont, Dongfang Yu rembered a very serious matter, and his gentle voice sounded in the room, "Xiao Qing, do you know how to cook?"
Shang Qing seed to have been prepared and said crisply, "I can make porridge, cook rice, and stew dishes, but I can’t fry dishes."
"Not bad, not bad..." This was already a lot better than what Dongfang Yu had just imagined, and he nodded, "Thank you for your hard work."
Shang Qing laughed, "Brother Dongfang, it’s nothing. I brought several cookbooks, so I can just follow the instructions."
"Follow the instructions?" Dongfang Yu raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"Yes, haven’t you seen a cookbook before? It introduces the cooking thods in great detail, like how much salt and sugar to put, and what to add first and later, it’s all clearly written. You can make delicious stir-fry by following the thods there."
"Are you talking about recipes?"
"I guess it’s pretty much the sa as recipes."
Dongfang Yu paused, and then said slowly, "I once spent so ti with a royal chef in the palace."
"A royal chef in the palace?" Shang Qing raised her eyebrows, her eyes looking bright with surprise, and then a little excitent, "Brother Dongfang, are you serious? You’ve t a real royal chef, like in the palace?"
Dongfang Yu nodded, "I still rember this mory quite clearly, maybe it’s because it’s related to food."
"Do you an you also have many things you can’t rember?" Shang Qing suddenly asked, her eyes staring intently at Dongfang Yu.
"Of course." Dongfang Yu sighed deeply, his expression calm, "You know, I’ve been walking in the human world for a long ti, I don’t rember everything clearly, so things I’ve completely forgotten."
This side of Dongfang Yu was one that Shang Qing had never seen before, and it instantly felt much closer, so she beca more daring. Naturally a quick-speaking girl, Shang Qing spoke cheerfully, "Brother Dongfang, can I ask you sothing?"
Dongfang Yu nodded, "Go ahead."
Shang Qing hesitated for a mont but still said, "If I ask sothing wrong, don’t get mad, okay?"
Dongfang Yu smiled, "Silly girl, how could I get mad at you? You co to take care of so openly without holding grudges, I’m already very grateful to you. No matter what you do or say, I won’t be angry."
Shang Qing giggled, feeling as though she had obtained an imperial sword, beaming with joy. She looked at Dongfang Yu, and a sly look flashed in her dark grape-like eyes, "Brother Dongfang, do you have descendants in this world now? If you do, are they older than you? Haven’t you seen them?"
When Shang Qing asked this, she didn’t pause, because this matter had been in her mind for a long ti. She was indeed curious, that with soone like Dongfang Yu, even if he could live a hundred years, a hundred years ago won were surely attracted to him. If they got married, wouldn’t their children be over eighty by now, like Gu Qingfeng, using a cane?
However, she had never heard Dongfang Yu ntion it, nor had she asked Xiao Bai. When she was with Xiao Bai, Shang Qing had never asked about Dongfang Yu.
So naturally, she was very curious.
Dongfang Yu really didn’t expect Shang Qing would ask such a thing. It was a bit sudden. He stared blankly at the little girl in front of him, his expression briefly flashing a touch of discomfort. This topic was a bit difficult to answer, but he still had to tell Shang Qing the truth.
Lest this little girl thinks wildly.
"I have never been married, how could I have descendants? Don’t talk such nonsense in the future."
Dongfang Yu’s voice, light as a cloud, filled the room, carrying warmth, with a hint of helplessness and a touch of naturalness.
For so reason, hearing these words made Shang Qing’s heart bloom with countless bubbles of joy, her eyes sparkled with brilliance, and a rosy cloud appeared on her fair little face. Her eyes, shining with radiance, made her seem energetic and full of life. She saw Dongfang Yu quietly gazing at her, his deep black eyes like two bottomless whirlpools, and just one deep look could pull soone in, never to return.
In that mont, her heart seed to skip a beat, and Shang Qing turned hurriedly, grabbing the thermal box and the small spoon, fleeing hastily.
Dongfang Yu’s expression froze, quietly watching the direction where Shang Qing left. Even when Shang Qing turned the corner, his eyes lingered there, and Xiao Bai quietly watched Dongfang Yu, not disturbing his master’s thoughts.
Dongfang Yu stood dazed for a while and then heard what sounded like the sound of brushing things in the kitchen. For so reason, that sound imdiately brought the dead-silent apartnt to life, making Dongfang Yu’s heart, which had been silent for a long ti, start to beat again.
Dongfang Yu sighed deeply.
His deep eyes flickered with complexity, moving his gaze from the doorway to the wall facing him. On it hung a frad painting that he had painted himself.
The painting showed distant mountains, a stream, and a small bridge, and at the end of the bridge was a three-story wooden building, surrounded by centuries-old camphor trees and a tall ginkgo tree, with a Peach Grove not far away.
The wooden building was simply decorated, yet it exuded elegance everywhere.
Leading to the river was a pebble-paved path.
On either side of the path were short green grasses, and around these grasses blood peony flowers.
The place appeared like an imaginary land of joy and plenty.
He rembered the peach trees in the Peach Grove were already fifty-eight years old.
This was where he used to live.
It was also probably his favorite place.
He lived there for decades.
The peaches from those trees were particularly sweet, and the wood used to build the wooden building was red sandalwood, rare even in a hundred years, and now extrely rare.
The place was isolated from the world, truly an imaginary land of joy and plenty, and his ancestors had set up a formation there, which ordinary mortals could never see. Even mbers of the Mystic Sect could only find it if their cultivation was higher than his ancestors’.
By now, he had been away from there for decades and hadn’t returned.
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