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Chapter 1712: The Son is a Foundling VIII
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... smell was fine, but the taste… It was very hard to describe.
In comparison, Tang Yin’s goldfish soup was better, even though she was about to vomit after drinking it.
Feng Ruqing stared at the soup on the table. A cold light flashed in her eyes. “Someone, bring this soup to Feng Lianqing. Tell him that Helian Yue brewed it for him.”
“Yes, Young Lady.”
***
At this time, in another part of the mainland, an ancient city surrounded by a mountain range.
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