"It's delicious!"
"It's been a long time since I've had lunch at a local restaurant, and it really tastes great."
Ye Qianqian is only five years old.
I don't have that much of an appetite.
Mo Chi bought her an adult portion.
After eating some, Ye Qianqian felt quite full.
"Oh dear, I can't eat anymore!" Ye Qianqian said deliberately.
"But now we still have half a roujiamo (Chinese hamburger) and half a bowl of mutton soup left. What should we do?"
The exiled prisoners stared longingly at the leftovers in Ye Qianqian's hand.
For them, this was already the ultimate delicacy.
Unfortunately, whether or not they can eat it depends on the princess's decision.
Ye Qianqian said to Mo Chi.
"Pack all of these up for me."
"I'll reheat it and eat it next time."
Mo Chi nodded.
"yes."
Disappointment flashed in the eyes of the exiled prisoners.
Zhou Yanyan gritted her teeth in anger.
He took a big bite of the coarse flour bun in his hand.
The next second.
I was disgusted by the taste of this steamed bun.
"This is awful! The texture is so rough, and it even has a musty taste!"
"This is practically feeding us rotten food!"
Zhou Yanyan had just finished saying this.
The driver's whip came down.
He lashed out at Zhou Yanyan hard.
"Ah!" Zhou Yanyan screamed in agony.
The constable sternly rebuked and asked.
"How dare you say that about the lunch I prepared!"
"What's wrong with this steamed bun? How did it go bad?!"
The constable asked the other prisoners.
Do you think these steamed buns taste rancid?
Everyone immediately fell silent.
The driver said to Zhou Yanyan.
"I saw it! Nobody thinks it smells bad!"
"Are you the only one who thinks it tastes sour? Who do you think you are? Are you still the pampered daughter of Prefect Zhou? You're just an exiled prisoner now!"
"Just follow orders obediently. If you dare to say anything again, I'll keep whipping you."
"Eat this steamed bun!"
"If you don't want to suffer physical pain!"
Zhou Yanyan was at a loss after hearing this.
I had no choice but to force myself to eat.
It was absolutely awful!
Zhou Yanyan noticed that the other prisoners' steamed buns didn't have the same mold spots as hers.
In other words, only his own steamed buns had these mold spots.
It seems so.
It was intentional on the part of the police.
But why is this the case?
It must have been arranged by Ye Qianqian.
The taxi driver certainly wouldn't dare offend the princess.
And they also had to help the princess vent her anger.
Zhou Yanyan ate.
Tears welled up in my eyes.
She knew.
As long as I don't die on my way to exile.
Then such torment would never end.
Ye Qianqian would deliberately eat and drink well in front of her, making her life seem as miserable as Ye Qianqian's.
The more you think like this...
The more desperate Zhou Yanyan felt, the more hopeless she became.
When a person falls into deep despair.
Mental breakdown will begin.
After lunch break, we continued our journey.
And at this time.
Suddenly it started raining.
The team had to stop.
There's nowhere to take shelter from the rain nearby.
We could only temporarily arrange for them to take shelter from the rain under the tree.
Ye Qianqian, on the other hand, could sit in the carriage.
At the same time, you can also enjoy hot tea.
Ye Qianqian deliberately lifted the carriage curtain.
This way, Zhou Yanyan could see her drinking hot water.
Zhou Yanyan could only shiver in the heavy rain.
Outside, it was pouring rain, and there was nowhere to go.
Inside, it was clean and tidy, with hot tea and snacks.
Faced with such a stark contrast.
No one can maintain a calm and stable mindset.
Zhou Yanyan lowered her head, refusing to look at the life Ye Qianqian was enjoying.
Mo Chi had the constable tie Zhou Yanyan to a tree.
Zhou Yanyan also had a rope wrapped around her forehead, so she couldn't lower her head.
Zhou Yanyan knew Ye Qianqian's purpose.
She closed her eyes tightly.
However.
Ye Qianqian gave two silver needles to Mo Chi, instructing him to insert them into the acupoints next to Zhou Yanyan's eyes.
Zhou Yanyan's eyes were forced open, and she was unable to close them.
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