good night warlord

Gu Qingyi did not expect that the dishes that were originally planned to be cooked early could only be served with dough soup.

But although it is not rich enough, she thinks the taste is not bad:

"Even if it's just dough soup, I'm sure Mrs May will like it."

Melinda slowly appeared at the kitchen door, folded her hands and glanced at the things in Gu Qingyi's hands:
"Of course I will like it. Anyway, you are her guest. Even if you serve it hard to swallow, she will give you some face."

Gu Qingyi pursed her lips tightly, knowing that what Melinda said was true:

"Then it's better to ask the chef to serve it. In this way, no one will tell Mrs. Mei that I made it, and she won't have to show any mercy."

Melinda laughed:
"I know why you are so confident, isn't it because even if she doesn't eat a mouthful, it won't be a loss to you."

"Then what do you want?"

"It's easy to say, if she is the same as before and doesn't say anything about your nonsense, then you can find an excuse to leave my house. Of course, if you win, you can continue to stay."

Melinda looked at her defiantly.

Up to now, Gu Qingyi seems to understand why the chef disregarded the housekeeper's order and refused to cooperate with her in making breakfast. It should be because of Melinda's instruction.

"Okay, I promise you, if Mrs. May doesn't like the food I cook, I'll leave by myself."

Gu Qingyi's response obviously satisfied Melinda, Melinda raised her hand lightly, and the chef came over and stretched out her hands to Gu Qingyi:

"give it to me."

After the chef took over, the kitchen started to get busy again. Before Gu Qingyi came, they still prepared a lot of breakfasts. They seemed to be showing off, carrying the breakfasts they had prepared and passing in front of Gu Qingyi one by one.

The chef held her dough soup and looked at Gu Qingyi's joke with a half-smile:
"Well, compared with the breakfast we prepared, I am really embarrassed to serve this pot of pig food that you made. I think you should hurry up and pack your things. After breakfast, you can leave gone."

The chef's ridicule towards Gu Qingyi made Melinda laugh, and Gu Qingyi pursed her lips, and waited until all the breakfast was brought to the restaurant before she opened her mouth and said:

"Until the end, who knows if I will lose."

……

In the dining room, the palace-style long tables are filled with a wide variety of breakfasts, whether they are Chinese or Western.

In the restaurant, Alison Mei Zhi had already sat down, Gu Qingyi walked over to say hello, and Mei Zhi dragged her to sit beside her:
"Moran, why did you get up so early? When I went to your room earlier, the servants had already tidied up the hygiene. Are you not used to it for the first time?"

Gu Qingyi shook her head slightly:
"It's not that I'm not used to it, I'm used to getting up early."

The two were talking, when Melinda came, and behind her, Wartime Yan walked over coldly in a black suit.

Gu Qingyi's fingers on her knees curled up, but her face did not reveal any tension:

"Mr. Zhan."

When the man saw her, his eyes were suddenly much colder, and his footsteps paused and then returned to normal:

"Miss Li?"

"Mr. Zhan is very surprised, we will meet here." Gu Qingyi joked, in a relaxed state.

During the war, Yan calmly sat next to Melinda and opposite to Gu Qingyi, with a gentle voice:

"It's quite unexpected. Miss Li and the Brady family are..."

Melinda answered first:

"Shi Yan, you think too much, she has nothing to do with me."

Gu Qingyi nodded:

"It's just that I happened to meet Mrs. Mei on the road yesterday. We hit it off very well, so we stayed here for two days."

During the war, Yan lowered his eyes: "So that's the case, it's really a fate."

The word fate seemed to prick a certain nerve in Melinda, she curled her lips and said:

"Okay, stop chatting, if you continue chatting, breakfast will be cold.

Melinda only has wartime Yan in her heart and eyes:
"Shi Yan, do you like this? I think it tastes good." As he spoke, he handed a bite-sized shortbread to Zhan Shiyan's mouth.

The man raised his hand to block Melinda's movement to feed, and refused, "I don't like it."

"Then what do you like, I'll get it for you."

"I'll take it myself."

The smell of food wafted in the air. If she was in Hancheng, Gu Qingyi would definitely have a good appetite, but now, her attention is all on the homemade dough soup that the chef brought up at the end.

The dough soup was placed in the most inconspicuous corner of the dining table by the chef. Among the exquisite and beautiful breakfasts, the dough soup looked particularly shabby.

Allison didn't care about the not-so-good interaction between his granddaughter and Yan during the war. He saw the very unsightly and out of place bowl of dough soup at a glance:
"What is that? Serve this kind of thing too, butler..."

The butler was waiting by the side, and when he heard Alison's call, he immediately bowed and said:

"gentlemen."

"How did you arrange it, such food is also on the table? Withdrawn.

Also, who is the cook who makes this stuff?Let him go. "

The housekeeper didn't know the reason, and he didn't dare to slack off after being scolded by the master:
"Yes, sir." The butler went directly to the end of the dining table, picked up the bowl of shabby dough soup, and prepared to leave.

Gu Qingyi squeezed the spoon tightly, and heard a sneer coming from Melinda's nose:
"Butler, it seems that someone else made this dish today, you have to listen to the chef's explanation later."

Gu Qingyi knew that Melinda must be gloating now without raising her head.

Once this dish was withdrawn, it would be impossible for Mrs. Mei to taste it again. Although it was different from what Melinda said, the final result was the same.

"Wait." Mei Zhi said.

The butler's withdrawal was stopped, and Alison looked at her:
"Zhier, what's wrong?"

Mei Zhi looked at the bowl of dough soup:

"Give me a bowl."

Gu Qingyi turned to the woman in surprise, and Melinda was not surprised either:

"Do you want to eat this kind of pig food?"

Melinda directly decided that the bowl of dough soup was pig food, and replaced it with any normal person. Hearing what others said, even if she wanted to eat this kind of thing again, her desire to eat it would fade a bit.

Allison felt the same way:

"Zhi'er, are you used to eating such crude things?"

Mei Zhi said lightly:

"When I was young, my mother often made this kind of pimple soup. I haven't eaten it for a long time. I didn't expect this kind of food to be made in the kitchen today. It doesn't matter whether it's rough or delicate. The food is just for filling the stomach. In my opinion Come on, there is not much difference.

Butler, please bring over the pimple soup. "

Melinda is in a hurry:

"Are you sick? So many delicate and delicious breakfasts, you lack interest, but you want to eat this kind of thing?"