Chapter 624: Will look better

Qing An often appears and disappears mysteriously; today he returned to the palace, holding a small velvet box in his hand.

He immediately ran to his sister's side, "Sis sis sis sis sis, come quick!"

Mu Youyu lifted her head from the tablet, "What's up?"

Qing An opened the small box, revealing a blue rhinestone little crown inside, "Come see what I bought for you~"

After putting the rhinestone crown on his sister, Qing An raised his eyebrows, "How is it, my brother's taste okay?"

Mu Youyu lifted her face, clapped her hands in perfect cooperation: "In all of M Guo, no one can compare to Brother Qing An!"

Most of the qi Qing An had gathered in his chest dissipated.

He rubbed his sister's head, secretly calculating that tonight he would send his most capable subordinate to start investigating You!

Not long after Qing An left, Jiang Liangjin hugged a desktop computer and entered the main hall.

He said the evening video conference had ended early, just in time for dinner, so he could keep her company for a few more bites.

Mu Youyu was curled up on the sofa scrolling on her tablet; seeing her fiancé arrive, she waved at him.

Jiang Liangjin sat down, glanced down and saw the little crown on her head and the velvet box, asked a question, and she told him about Qing An's visit.

"This little crown really suits you." He reached out to flick the rhinestone in her hair; his fingertip slid past her ear, bringing a faint itch.

Mu Youyu shrank her neck back, "Do you like it? Want me to put it on you?"

Jiang Liangjin withdrew his hand, solemnly said, "I wouldn't have the nerve to take your things."

"It's not taking, just trying." Mu Youyu corrected, "But if you wore a wig or something, it would look even better."

Jiang Liangjin: "..."

Seeing he wasn't speaking, Mu Youyu pushed him, "Alright, let's eat first; if we don't go, that chef in the kitchen will probably be standing at the door sighing again."

Jiang Liangjin smiled, took her hand, "Then let's go."

That chef had once been a royal court chef specially hired, but years ago, because a dessert didn't suit Qing An's taste, he was transferred to the back kitchen.

Later, when Mu Youyu visited M Guo as a guest, she ate several dishes he made, praised them a few times, and the chef was transferred back to the main hall.

Afterwards, whenever Mu Youyu was in the palace, he would stand guard in the dining hall, periodically pacing to the doorway to look out, hoping she would praise him again.

The two rose and walked side by side to the dining hall.

The chef was indeed standing under the doorway; seeing the two approach from afar, he slightly bowed, then turned and hurried back to the dining hall.

On the table lay several dishes, each still pitifully small, yet the plating was exquisite.

After finishing the meal, the two lingered a while before each returning to their rooms.

Mu Youyu clung to the doorframe, her smile bright, "Good night, baby."

Jiang Liangjin loved hearing her speak in that tone, "Good night, baby, don't stay up late watching dramas tonight; you can take it slow tomorrow."

"Got it, got it, this isn't Brother Yan's new drama, is it?" Mu Youyu quickly shut her bedroom door.

The atmosphere in the meeting room was completely opposite.

Qing An sat in the seat of honor, holding a freshly delivered invitation in his hand, the corner of which he had creased deeply.

The signature read "Gobinsede Family"; he stared at it for a long time before tossing it onto the table, his voice tinged with irrepressible irritation: "Where is the person?"

The attendant stood three steps away, holding his breath, choosing his words carefully, not daring to look up at him, "Your Highness, Count Gobinsede himself is already waiting outside the palace gates, saying he has important matters to discuss."

The Gobinsede family, that surname is not unfamiliar in Y Guo's noble circles.

A dozen years ago they still had some influence, but now they have long since declined, lingering in Y Guo's noble circles, a soon-to-be-removed fallen family.

Qing An snorted coldly, swept the tea set on the table onto the floor with one hand, "Did they come all the way from Y Guo just to seek an audience? What do they have to offer?"

The sound of the porcelain cup shattering was especially piercing in the empty side hall; shards flew everywhere, tea soaked the carpet.

The palace attendants withdrew silently, leaving only the attendant who steeled himself to ask, "Your Highness, what do you mean...?"

Qing An braced himself on the table edge and rose, malice surging in his eyes, "Meet him, why not? Let him wait for me first."

"First, summon Mowu for me."

The attendant bowed and withdrew, "Yes."

Qing An stood where he was, hands braced on the table edge, eyes downcast, gazing at the shards on the floor, suppressing some emotion.

The side hall door was pushed open again; Mowu entered in work attire, steps silent, expression solemn, slightly bowed in salute, "Young Master."

Qing An turned sideways, staring at the person who had followed him since childhood but had become increasingly inscrutable, his tone sinking, "The Gobinsede people have come."

Mowu lowered his eyes, "I know."

"Then you should also know that I won't let them succeed, nor will I let you return to their side."

Qing An stepped closer, suddenly laughed, recalled the childhood nickname, his tone obsessive: "Mowu brother, wake up, stop thinking about them, don't I suffice for you?"

Mowu kept his head lowered, not responding.

Qing An's voice rose a bit: "Say something."

Mowu fell silent for a moment, then knelt on one knee before him, opened his lips: "Sorry, Young Master, I still have a mission; I'll take my leave first."

Having spoken, he rose, turned, and headed for the door.

Seeing his unmoved demeanor, the fire in Qing An's chest could no longer be contained; he swept the stack of documents on the table together with the invitation onto the floor.

Mowu's steps paused, but he ultimately left without looking back.

Qing An tightly closed his eyes, his tone returning to its usual aloofness: "Let them come in."

The attendant received the order and withdrew.

The door was pushed open, and two people entered: the eldest son of this generation of the Gobinsede family, and the count.

The count was an elderly man over sixty, tall and thin, wearing a once-white now faded old formal robe; as he walked in he slightly hunched his back, hands clasped in front, his posture extremely low.

He stopped five steps away from Qing An, performed a standard bow, "Your Highness, it's been years since we last met, you..."

Qing An cut him off, tone icy: "Did I let you speak?"

The count sensibly closed his mouth; the eldest son only felt that Qing An's temper had worsened.

The hall fell silent for a few breaths; Qing An walked back to the main seat, looked down at him from above, and only after a while let out a snort.

"You come begging for help in old clothes, crying poverty—do you think I'll soften, or that the M Kingdom Royal Family is idle enough to foot the bill for your mess?"

The Earl's face stiffened slightly, forcing a smile. "Your Highness, we, we have nowhere else to turn, that's why we've come begging shamelessly."

"Our family has been unlucky these years; our holdings have been cut by more than half, and hardly anyone in noble circles wants to associate with us."

"You know what happened back then… after that incident, our manor's reputation plummeted; if this continues, in less than a year not even the Earl's estate will have a place in noble society."

"All members of the Ge Binsede family wish to ask Your Highness for help—just say a word for us in the Noble Council, and we'll get through this crisis!"