In less than a minute, Luoyu left the living room.
Liuyun also picked up the pieces of the vase, preparing to buy an identical one.
The fiery clouds gradually dispersed, and Li Qiao's gaze wandered.
Shang Yu lazily crossed his legs, looking straight ahead, with a playful tone, "He even made you fried rice?"
The damned Bai Yan.
Li Qiao drew circles on her knee with her fingers, "His main business is selling fried rice."
The man continued his existential questioning, "Do you often eat his fried rice?"
"No." Li Qiao scrunched her nose disdainfully, "Just once."
The scallions were picked for ten minutes.
Since then, she never ate Bai Yan's fried rice again.
Thankfully, the core members of Flame Alliance were taking care of his business in Scarlet City, otherwise his ancestral fried rice stand would have gone bust long ago.
Shang Yu nodded profoundly, "Not tasty?"
Li Qiao answered fluently, "Especially not tasty."
