Jiang Xianhao nodded, and took the opportunity to reach out and point to a small red dot on her hand that had been burned.

"Look, I burned my hands!"

Emperor Rongcheng quickly took her hand, gently blew on it, and tenderly stroked it again and again.

"It's just a bowl of porridge. You can have the people in the imperial kitchen make it. Why bother doing it yourself?"

Jiang Xianhao: "They only came to apologize to you! Otherwise, who knows how long some people would have kept throwing a tantrum."

Seeing Jiang Xianhao's adorable appearance, Emperor Rongcheng's anger vanished instantly. He immediately softened, embraced her, and gently coaxed her:

"You're so glib!"

"You know perfectly well that all I need to do is show up and I won't be angry anymore, yet you still say these things on purpose."

Jiang Xian chuckled: "They just want to cook for you themselves!"

"Look at those ordinary couples, which one doesn't have the wife cooking for her husband herself?"

Upon hearing this, Emperor Rongcheng was overjoyed, feeling as sweet as honey. He disregarded everything else, opened the lid of the food box, scooped up a spoonful, and was about to put it in his mouth.

But suddenly a strange smell came over them.

He stopped and looked closely, only to find that the porridge was a strange gray color, with some black things floating on top, and it had a strange smell that made it hard to swallow.

He swallowed hard before asking the question.

"This is... porridge?"

"yes."

Jiang Xianhao nodded.

"Look, the black stuff here is lean meat, which I cooked myself."

Emperor Rongcheng: ...

Why this color?

"That's because I used chicken broth to make it; that's the color of the chicken broth."