"Miss, don't be sad. It's not worth it for a cold-hearted man like Master," Qinghe suddenly said angrily.

As a maid who grew up with her mistress and had a very good relationship with her, Qinghe naturally thought that her mistress was the most important person. Therefore, when it came to her male master, Qinghe said something unusually avant-garde and modern.

Poor (?) Qingyin: "..."

? ? ?

Did she say anything? Why did Qinghe suddenly mention Liu Zhi?

The confusion and blankness in Qingyin's eyes confirmed the "painful" look in Qinghe's eyes.

She gritted her teeth, wishing she could bite off a few more pieces of flesh from the man who had deliberately prevented her from saving her mistress, as a way of avenging her mistress.

But dreams are impossible.

Even if the trigger for this suffering was herself.

But the loyal maidservant had a strange double standard.

Qinghe dared not let her mistress remain immersed in "pain" any longer, so she stiffly changed the subject.

"Miss, what would you like to eat? I'll have the servants make it."

Qingyin deliberately pondered for a moment, "Roasted pheasant, stewed mutton, braised pork knuckle...?"

This time, it was Qinghe's turn to remain silent.

She looked at Qingyin awkwardly, and suddenly felt that her mistress might not be so sad for the time being.

Qingyin was talking about the dishes that the original owner usually liked, but at this moment it seemed very inappropriate.

“Miss, the physician said that your illness…” Qinghe carefully advised, just as she was about to subtly suggest that she shouldn’t eat oily or salty foods while sick, Qingyin finally generously came to the maid’s rescue:

"It's okay, I know. I can only have some porridge."

Qinghe: "..."

So, was the young lady joking with her just now?

Qinghe looked at Qingyin with a resentful expression, but the sorrow between her brows had lessened.

She felt a strange sense of unfamiliarity towards Qingyin.

But Qingyin, who was used to doing missions and had a lot of experience, could hardly not notice. She frowned and pretended to be sad.

"I just wanted to taste something I like when my mouth was at its most bitter."

Upon hearing this, the unfamiliarity in Qinghe's eyes vanished instantly, and she slapped herself in frustration.

Honestly, Miss Ming had already thought of a different topic and changed the subject, but I'm so bad at talking that I ended up reminding her of Master again.

"Miss, you're awake. I'll have a servant cook you a bowl of porridge, and I'll bring you your medicine."

Qinghe hurriedly walked out of the house, her back view showing a disheveled escape.

Inside the room, the woman who had been hanging her head in sorrow just moments before raised her head, and there was no trace of sadness on her face.

She smiled slightly, watching Qinghe's retreating figure with amusement.

Well, causing trouble can easily backfire, but constantly causing trouble is always fun.

Qingyin loves the feeling of walking on the strings.