A man dressed as a servant opened the door and walked in.
He came to the low table in the middle of the wing, knelt down, and held up a thin square board with his hands.
"Your Majesty, Miss Jiu'er, please!"
When Di Wuya heard the familiar voice, he raised his eyes and raised his thick eyebrows.
"Explain it."
He spoke calmly.
Long Twelve, who was kneeling, raised his head, looked at God's boundless gaze, and pursed his lips.
Among the twelve flying dragon riders, Long Twelve is the youngest.
He has handsome features, fair and tender skin, and is very good-looking.
"Go back to your lord."
Long Twelve bowed his hands.
Before he could say anything, Feng Jiuer took Di Wuya's long arm.
"I asked him to come here."
She raised her eyes and looked at the man beside her, "Long Twelve's cooking skills are super good, doesn't Uncle Nine Emperors know that?"
"His talent in this area has been buried by you."
"Dragon Twelve."
Feng Jiuer looked at Long Twelve and said, "Go prepare the prince's favorite dishes."
"yes."
Long Twelve held up his hands again and his eyes returned to Di Wuya.
"Your Majesty, don't blame Miss Jiu'er. It's my subordinate who wants to do it, and he will only do it in his free time. It will not affect the work assigned by the Prince."
"Does your cooking taste good?"
Emperor Wuya frowned.
"right."
Feng Jiuer hugged Di Wuya's arm tightly again, "I've eaten it before. It's a super authentic Beimu national dish."
"Uncle Nine Emperors, think about it, we can't be at war forever. When the days calm down, everyone has to find something to do."
"Brother, I saw that this inn was vacant and there were many useful things, so I invited Long Twelve to come over."
"On the one hand, he can do something he likes, and on the other hand, the dishes he cooks can relieve everyone's homesickness."
Di Wuya waved his hand, waved his long arm, and held the woman in his arms.
Long Twelve cupped his hands and stood up.
"Your Majesty, Miss Jiu'er, my subordinates are going to prepare now."
"Go ahead."
Feng Jiuer waved her hands and said.
"yes."
Long Twelve nodded, and when he turned around, the corners of his mouth raised, revealing a pair of shallow dimples.
The door was closed, Feng Jiuer leaned back and put her head against the man's heart.
"Uncle Nine Emperors."
She called softly, raised her head and looked back, "Do you regret it?"
The man's thick eyebrows furrowed, he folded his arms around his soft, watery arms, leaned down, and went down.
"Madam, what do you mean by this?"
Feng Jiuer broke free from her arms, turned around and hugged the man's thin waist, burying her head on his chest.
"If it weren't for me, how carefree would your life be now?"
Feng Jiuer pursed her lips and smiled, raised her eyes, and gently slid her long fingers on the man's chest.
"Maybe I will have a harem of three thousand, and if I'm lucky, I'll have more than one pair of children."
"And now, you really only have me, let alone your children. Next..." Feng Jiuer couldn't say what happened next.
The fact that they were able to successfully reach Fenglai City is indeed due to their abilities, but Feng Qiongcang's power is far beyond what is currently seen.
Maybe, letting them all arrive at Fenglai City is still part of Feng Qiongcang's plan.
Losing part of the troops in exchange for an opportunity to catch them all in one fell swoop was something that Feng Qiongcang could definitely do.
The gathering of the three armies is the end of the entire campaign and the beginning of the final battle.
I know it's very risky, but things can only develop according to this plan.
"Uncle Nine Emperors."
Feng Jiuer lowered her head again and hugged Di Wuya's waist tightly.
"I feel sorry for you! I feel sorry for you, I really do!"
