Chapter 11

The only motive that the Song family could consider when Mu Qingliu came back was that Mu Qingliu pretended to be stable, but he actually had his eyes on the most beautiful girl in the family, Song He.

The old man Song held an impromptu family meeting in private and warned them to move Mu Qingliu's bedroom to Song He's side tonight, so that the two of them could have more sparks.

As everyone knows, Song He's bedroom is on the second floor, but if Mu Qingliu is arranged in the room to his west, Song Yin's ward will be right above him.

Several relatives in the family dared not say anything to Song Yin, and just waited for the old man to make the decision.

Auntie Wu was the most proud of her shouting, wishing to take this as her own unique achievement, and kept saying, "I've told you a long time ago that Mu Qingliu has the best temperament, cultivation, and financial background in the entire capital... in the entire China. When I first proposed it, you laughed at me for being a fool, but look, who is the most anxious to curry favor with him now?"

Old Master Song secretly rolled his eyes at her, not wanting to argue with the ignorant woman. Now that the arrow was on the string, it had to be shot, and everything had to be based on Song He. He said directly, "Move to the original room first, and wait until the person leaves."

The implication was that he didn't care about Song Yin's life or death at all.

That's right, a mere vegetable, when he was able to move, he was not loved by the whole family, and now that he can't move, he is even more disliked by everyone.

While Master Song was deliberately inviting Mu Qingliu to admire his collection, the servants didn't even bother to move the instruments. They just found a thick quilt, wrapped the vegetative man up, carried him downstairs, and ran along the dark path to the backyard.

Mu Qingliu was standing at the window, listening to Master Song boasting smugly about how he spent 5 million to buy a double-eared jade pot at an auction house, and took it out specifically for Master Mu to appreciate. Mu Qingliu

happened to raise his eyelids and caught a glimpse of the moving tracks in the dark.

Good guy, he's as sneaky as destroying a corpse. He

turned around and changed his field of vision. His body was not leaning on anything, and his back was as straight as a cedar.

"I've heard that the Feng Shui of the capital is unique, shaped like a coiled dragon, and the hardest piece of dragon scales is the foundation of the main house of the Song family."

"No wonder the Song family has been doing well in business for generations and has accumulated a lot of wealth," Mu Qingliu glanced at the two-handled jade pot held in the hands of Old Master Song, "It's good to pour some out occasionally, and when it's full, it will overflow, and wealth can come in again."

When Old Master Song heard this, he roughly understood that he was not picking up a leak, but hitting the iron plate, and he definitely bought a fake at a high price.

But he still bought a lot of such cultural relics. Seeing that Mu Qingliu was young, he stood far away and took a casual look, without touching anything at all, and he could immediately distinguish the real from the fake, with an extremely sharp eye.

Suddenly, he felt it was not appropriate to ask Mu Qingliu to continue admiring the antiques. Antiques are things that are bought to make oneself happy. If one must identify whether they are fakes, wouldn’t he be the one who would be most upset?

Mu Qingliu quickly sent Mr. Song away and was taken to the westernmost room on the second floor by a servant.

Song He happened to come out of his bedroom and met Mu Qingliu. He was so surprised that his jaw almost dropped to the ground, thinking that Mu Qingliu had not left.

Could it be that all his inappropriate complaints were heard by others? ! !

His eyes dodged left and right, and his words were intermittent, "You...you didn't leave?"

Mu Qingliu wanted to answer, um.

But the 99+ rants above his head, which were called eunuchs, took a total of fifteen minutes to completely disappear.

Fifteen minutes is enough time for a person with a photographic memory to be imprinted into his DNA.

He had to find the person first.

Mu Qingliu looked at Song He carefully and noticed that his eyes flickered and wandered, especially like a mouse that had been caught, with a strong sense of seeking life.

From the perspective of the rant bubble [Mu Qingliu, this dead eunuch.], the person who spoke was 90% likely to be the little cutie in front of him.

But from the perspective of [You should marry Mu Qingliu, Song He.], it is absolutely impossible that the little cutie in front of him could come up with so many new and strange things.

The only thing that can be deduced is that the other party must have a close relationship with Song He.

Moreover, he is in a room in this building.

I didn't see anyone from the Song family during dinner. When I returned to the Song family on the pretext of a flat tire, I did meet a few uncles from the Song family.

These are the only speculations at present.

Mu Qingliu nodded and smiled, "Good night."

Song He let out a long sigh, wishing he had a few more legs, and hurried back to his bedroom. He remembered that his family was too much. Forced purchases and sales should not be like this, right? He

even arranged the Mu family to live next door to him.

It's really like the neighbor next door eating peppercorns, which makes the neighbor next door numb!

Song He wanted to complain to Song Yin a few more times, but then he thought that even a vegetative person also needs to rest, so he gave up. He

picked up the paintbrush and scribbled a three-view drawing on the easel.

Then he casually unlocked the screen of his mobile phone, and a flood of WeChat messages came to him.

Among them, the messages from the second and fifth aunts were the most straightforward.

[Congratulations, Ok!]

[Congratulations, why could the Weaver Girl marry the Cowherd? Why could Bai Suzhen marry Xu Xian? Why could Hua Qiangu live with her master forever?]

Grandpa also sent a voice message, [Congratulations, the floor heating at home seems to be broken. If Mr. Mu feels cold, remember to send him a quilt. Mr. Mu is a distinguished guest in the family, you must take good care of him on behalf of the whole family. For the elderly.jpg]

Song He was speechless.

I thought to myself, my own parents are not as anxious to sell me as you are.

The bottom thirty or so WeChat messages were all sponsored by Wen Yancheng family.

Without exception, they all said, [If you have something to ask, come out. ]

Song He Xiaoju was nervous, and seemed extremely flustered. He threw away his phone as if he was holding a red-hot iron.

He was holding...

No, he was no longer a small daisy that had not bloomed.

Damn, I'm a straight man~

You dead gays!!

He immediately locked the door, took a shower and went to bed quickly, trying to ignore all the unpleasantness.

Mu Qingliu has a slight obsession with cleanliness. In an environment where he is not trusted, in addition to normal washing and cleaning, he directly lies on the bed without taking off his clothes.

The floor heating was very comfortable at first, but it suddenly became a little cold in the middle of the night.

Mu Qingliu was a light sleeper, and perhaps the purpose of staying at the Song family was not to sleep, so he basically opened his eyes at the first moment.

The temperature in the house dropped sharply, but it was still bearable.

He put on the cashmere blanket prepared by the Song family on his shoulders and quietly walked down from the second floor. In order to facilitate someone to get up at night, the night lights were left on in the house.

Mu Qingliu took out a cigarette box engraved with Hades from his pocket, tapped it with his hands, and immediately a thin sea breeze mint-flavored cigarette popped out.

He was not addicted to smoking, and occasionally when he couldn't sleep, he would smoke a cigarette to refresh himself.

Outside the Song family's house is a large flower garden. Because winter is coming, the plant sculptures in each flower garden have turned yellow and look like a listless drunkard in the moonlight.

Mu Qingliu half-raised his slender neck and blew a cloud of blurry smoke into the air.

I must be crazy.

Mu Qingliu stared expressionlessly at the cloud of smoke, which seemed like a drop of ink dripping into clear water, slowly dissolving in the clear center.

Thinking of the half-hour live broadcast content that he had to do every day, Mu Qingliu's mood was also taken away by the quiet night sky and the damp and cold autumn wind.

I must be...

life is too boring.

Mu Qingliu crushed the mint cigarette butt, pulled away from the emptiness in front of him, and turned to face the main house of the Song family.

Under the moonlight and clouds, countless strings of specially enlarged fonts slowly floated over.

While he was busy smoking, the top of the three-story building was filled with bubbles of complaints, densely packed in a circle, as if carrying a cursed cloud, hovering with resentment.

[Why is this room so hot? My fucking balls are so itchy! Someone come and pinch them for me, I will definitely repay evil with kindness for the rest of my life. ]

[Why is this room so hot? My fucking balls are so itchy! Someone come and pinch them for me, I will definitely repay evil with kindness for the rest of my life. ]

[If any brother can receive my call and help, I am willing to eat meat and vegetables and worship good people for the rest of my life! ]

Your balls are itchy, boy?

Mu Qingliu returned to a quiet mood, and a little wave of emotion appeared.

He raised his eyelids and smiled meaningfully.

I found you.