Feng Qing saw the dining table full of dishes, her eyes finally brightened. She intended to turn her sorrow and anger into strength and have a hearty meal.
These dishes were clearly made by a master chef, they looked good, and the taste was probably not bad either.
Just as Feng Qing picked up her chopsticks to try these dishes, she suddenly felt the air around her stiffen. She instinctively looked at the man opposite, only to see the Prince Regent looking deeply at her, his gaze difficult to decipher.
Feng Qing saw his eyes like that, her heart sank, her chopsticks nearly fell. Was something going to happen again?
Her thought had just fallen, when Si Qi standing behind gently reminded her, "Princess Consort, you should serve dishes to the Prince."
Feng Qing's chopsticks successfully fell onto the table, her face looked as if she was struck by lightning: "I have to serve dishes."
