Wu Pifu sat silently on the broken wall, watching nervously as the palace servants carefully presented various exquisite dishes.
Meanwhile, some eunuchs and housekeepers hurriedly cleaned, tidied up, arranged decorations around the area, hung up cloth curtains, prepared screen-like partitions, set out fresh flowers, and sprayed perfumes…
A strong, overwhelming Victorian aristocratic atmosphere filled the air, making Wu Pifu frown again.
In almost an instant, all the servants, housekeepers, and attendants began trembling all over, their faces drained of color, as if they wished they could immediately kneel before Wu Pifu on the spot.
At that moment, a clear and crisp voice, like silver bells ringing, came from nearby: “Hey, stop scaring them so much, okay? Always threatening like that… What do these servants know? You even killed the king, so should be a little kinder to them.”
Wu Pifu didn’t even look back, only watching the servants while slightly shaking his head. “I’m not killing you. Hurry up and get everything ready.”
The servants immediately felt as if granted a great pardon; each lowered their head and quickened their pace.
Then, a fragrant wind brushed from behind Wu Pifu’s side, and the same clear bell-like voice expressed surprise, “So easy to talk to? That doesn’t sound like you.”