After he had finished his meal, Feng Yue tidied up his bowl and chopsticks and took them downstairs.
The waiter, seeing him, smoothly took the food box from his hands and said with a forced smile, "Young Master, there's no need for you to do this yourself; just let us handle these small tasks."
Feng Yue casually refused, "No need."
Having said that, he turned and went upstairs.
The waiter was left standing there, food box in hand, with a bewildered expression, muttering quietly, "What a strange temperament!"
When Feng Yue pushed the door open, Liu Wensheng had just finished reading the Empress's secret letter.
His face cold as frost, he crushed the piece of paper, a sneer in his heart about the Empress's great ambitions.
Seeing his troubled expression, Feng Yue frowned and stepped forward, "Little Liuliu, what's wrong?"
Liu Wensheng replied coldly, "Nothing."
