I saw Mei Qianqian walking over in a hurry and picking up a wooden block from the incense table.

Only then did Luo Luo notice that there was actually a memorial tablet in the small hut.

But what was this girl doing in such a hurry to get this spiritual tablet? Luo Luo looked at the spiritual tablet with some curiosity, and only caught a glimpse of two words that were not covered by her eyebrows, but it was exactly - deceased husband.

So this girl is already married?

Yes, he is already eighteen years old, so it is a bit strange not to be married. Luo Luo felt uneasy. In fact, Qianqian should be eighteen years old now.

Time flies like water. Three years have passed in a flash. I wonder if he can still find her.

But, what are you doing with the spiritual throne? Luo Luo raised his head, glanced over with a pair of eyes, and blurted out: "What are you doing holding this spiritual throne?"

What to do? Mei Qianqian smiled self-deprecatingly: "There is no firewood in the kitchen, so I took this spiritual tablet and chopped it up to make medicine for you."

This is strange to say. The spiritual place that has been enshrined every day is used to brew medicine? Luo Luo felt a little grateful in his heart: "Miss Meimei, this is your husband's spiritual place. You must not abandon it for Luo Luo."

Mei Qianqian secretly sighed in her heart, as expected, people are different. Huoshui Feng Wuya was as beautiful as Luo Luo, but he didn't have Luo Luo's heart.

At that moment, she raised her eyebrows and looked at Luo Luo again. She saw that between Luo Luo's eyebrows, there was a faint bookish air and a noble air, making her look more and more as handsome as otherworldly fireworks.

Luo Luo, you really think about others.

So Mei Qianqian smiled and said: "Don't worry, Luo Luo, I'm not married yet, and this is not a spiritual position."

Luo Luo was half confused and half confused, but he said no more: "Then there is Miss Lao Meimei."

However, Mei Qianqian carried Feng Wuya's body to the kitchen and cried heartily again to mourn her dead love. Then she threw Feng Wuya's body into the fire, boiled the medicine, and went to the rice vat.

I took some rice and put it into the pot, intending to make some porridge.

Strangely enough, this rice vat is like a cornucopia. After three years of use, the rice in it has not decreased.

Mei Qianqian ignored it. She had long been used to it. Ever since she lived in this small hut, she had never lacked anything. She had also lurked outside the small hut day and night to find out what was going on. In the end, she only fed three people in vain.
Chapter completed!