The cold palace of someone else's house: miserable and miserable, with cries that didn't stop in the middle of the night.
Su Qinqin's Leng Gong: hot pot skewers, small barbecue, milk tea dessert snail noodles.
The concubines who were originally waiting to see her joke smelled the fragrance wafting from the wall, and all of them drooled to their feet. They lined up with gold and silver jewelry to beg for a bowl of "Wangyou Milk Tea".
Even the regent, who was rumored to be ruthless and never set foot in the backyard, climbed over the wall in the middle of the night and stared at the crayfish in Su Qinqin's hand, lost in thought.
