Godly Farmer Doctor: Arrogant Husband, Can't Afford To Offend!-Chapter 1255: Pork liver feast

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Chapter 1255: Pork liver feast

Hearing this, Chu Yan also felt hungry, so he barely resisted his dizziness and said, "I'll take you to eat delicious food."


Cheng Zuo hurriedly said: "It's better to have some light meals at this old minister's house. This old minister will arrange it now." Cheng Zuo spoke and gave his son a hard look, blaming him for his ineffectiveness. The Emperor has been in the mansion for so long. He didn't even care about the food.


Chu Yan waved his hand: "No need." After speaking, he took Bai Zhi's hand to leave, but just as he took a step, there was a thick black mist in front of him, and he almost fell.


"Your Majesty, what's wrong?" Cheng Zuo was so frightened that he almost peed his pants. If something happened to the Emperor in his house, the entire Cheng family would be ruined.


Bai Zhi supported his arm, and said slowly: "Is it dark in front of you? Now it's alright again?"


Chu Yan nodded: "Well, I'm still a little dizzy, it's okay."


She sighed: "You have drawn too much blood today, so you become like this. Walk slowly, eat something, and sleep well, and you will feel much better when you wake up."


The two walked out while talking. The father and son of the Cheng family followed closely behind. They didn't breathe a sigh of relief until they got into the carriage and completely disappeared without a trace.


Cheng Zuo pointed at Cheng Shuping and said: "You – you are too courageous!"


Cheng Shuping didn't make a sound, his eyes were still looking at the shadow of the carriage, and he murmured in a low voice: "The emperor's benevolence is the luck of the people."


*


At Prince Jin Mansion


Bai Zhi made pork liver soup for Chu Yan, stir-fried pork liver, and blood with goji berry and red dates soup.


After eating, Chu Yan called for help, and for the first time in his life, he didn't finish the meal made by Bai Zhi.


What he hated most was pork liver.


But in front of him seemed to be a feast of pork liver.


"Zhi'er, come into the palace with me, so that you can make me pork liver soup every day." As long as Bai Zhi was willing to enter the palace with him. He was willing to eat pork liver every day.


Bai Zhi shook her head: "No, my mother will come to the capital in 2 days. I have to go and see how the Dongfang Mansion is being cleaned up."


She planned to live in the Dongfang Mansion so that Zhao Lan and Hu Changlin could spend more of their time together. They don't need to spend all day around her and delay their life.


*


In the Meng Family Mansion.


Master Meng came back from the palace and immediately sent someone to call Meng Nan to discuss matters in the study.


"Nan'er, all we need to do now is wait for the right time," Meng Da said humanely.


Meng Nan sat in the chair with a gloomy expression. His eyes fell on the sword hanging on the wall of the study.


Wasn't that a peerless sword? Only when he draws this sword, he will know.


Only by pulling out the sword can one see the sharpness of this sword.


Before he made his decision, he had never thought about this matter, but after he made his decision, he kept thinking about it, just wanting to get to that day soon.


"Father, this son thinks, waiting is the most unreliable."


Master Meng let out an oh, and stared at him: "What do you mean?"


Meng Nan leaned back, found a very comfortable posture, and said in a somewhat lazy voice: "I think that if you want to get it, you shouldn't wait, but take the initiative to fight for it. Instead of planning, it's better to create the chance, and then obtain it." In front of his eyes, was the scene of him stepping into the Golden Palace and hand in hand with the beauty.


He was not interested in imperial power, he only hopes that when he got imperial power, so he could get her.


To get her, he was willing to give everything, even his soul.


Master Meng looked surprised and looked at his son blankly. Was this his son? Was he Meng Nan? He had never seen Meng Nan like this.


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