In the past, I could invite Meng Jie to come to my house and say it in person, but now I also invite the Minister of Taichang Temple to come and check the feng shui.
And such a calm expression is as casual as saying "I'm inviting a friend over for a meal."
This is not what ordinary people do.
It seems that this female neighbor is even more powerful than what I heard before.
Zhou Bida thought about it, and couldn't help but have a proud expression on his face: "It's really a blessing for Zhou to be able to be a neighbor with Miss Mu."
Mu Yunhan said kindly: "You are being too modest."
But I heard someone say coldly: "It is indeed your luck!"
The car curtain was opened, and Gu Fenglin was sitting in the car with a cold expression and indifferent eyes.
Zhou Bida had an inexplicable feeling of humility, like "I am an ant." He bowed humbly and said, "Zhou Bida has met Mr. Taichang Temple."
Gu Fenglin looked at him indifferently: "I heard that you have many tricks up your sleeve."
Zhou Bida was startled, and then looked at Mu Yunhan.
Mu Yunhan was even more shocked than him, saying that he didn't know what was going on.
Zhou Bida immediately thought that the Song family must have spoken ill of him, and immediately smiled: "Don't worry, sir. No matter how many tricks I have, I can't do it to Miss Mu."
I have strength, but I won't use it against her.
His words could be considered to be both soft and hard. They are still the natal family of Concubine Zhou and Mrs. Mu San. No matter what, they cannot be too humble and lose face.
Gu Fenglin raised the corners of his lips and smiled coldly.
An afterimage flashed in front of Zhou Bida, and a ray of cold wind slid past his neck.
When he reacted, a thin silk thread had been wrapped around his neck, and the other end of the thread was held in the hand of the old man in gray who was driving the carriage.
"Mr. Zhou, your collar has threads. Look, it's such a long thread."
As soon as the old man in gray clothes tugged on the silk thread, Zhou Bida felt a splitting pain in his neck.
According to rumors, martial arts masters can kill people by flying flowers and picking leaves, and silk thread is an excellent killing weapon.
Zhou Bida was sweating profusely. He stood frozen and did not dare to move. He cried out sadly: "My lord, my lord, I don't mean any harm to you."
Gu Fenglin looked at him indifferently and had no reaction.
The old man holding the silk thread pulled hard, and Zhou Bida felt a burning pain in the back of his neck, as if something hot was flowing down his neck...
Oh my god, it’s blood! It must be blood!
Zhou Bida cried like a wolf and howled like a ghost: "Miss Mu, please talk, I haven't done anything."
Gu Fenglin said: "It doesn't mean that I won't do it in the future."
"I won't do it in the future!" Zhou Bida seemed to smell the smell of blood, rolled his eyes, and fell down.
Mu Jie helped him in time: "It's better not to faint."
Zhou Bida was filled with grief and anger. These days, he couldn't even faint! Is there any more royal method?
He only heard Mu Yunhan plead for him tenderly: "Sir, the Zhou family is very polite."
After another half cup of tea, Zhou Bida heard Gu Fenglin say calmly: "In that case, that's it."
The silk thread around Zhou Bida's neck was taken away.
His legs and feet went weak, and he almost fell down. When he was annoyed, Mu Jie held him up and whispered in his ear: "There is no blood, it's just sweat."
Zhou Bida suddenly felt grateful, finally saving face in front of his servants.
Then I heard Mu Yunhan say: "If Mr. Zhou is fine, why don't we go for a walk together?"
Zhou Bida is even more grateful, what a good person. (To be continued)