Chapter 207

However, at this moment, Ling Luo doesn't care whether Beiming Hao wronged himself. He just wants to find the cook and make him responsible for his actions.

However, Qin Yuran thinks that this matter is very concerned. The chef has been in the palace for so many years. Even if he has no function, he has to work hard. How could he suddenly attack beiminghao.

The only explanation is that there must be another person threatening this person behind him. In this palace, Wang Fuchun is the only one with such power.

Wang Fuchun has to kill beiminghao again. This idea shocked the girls because Wang Fuchun had no reason to kill beiminghao.

Qin Yuran immediately sent Ling Luo back, and quietly gathered all the people who had recently helped in the kitchen to cross examine them one by one.

"Have you found anything wrong with the chef these days, or who he is closer to?"

Suddenly, a little servant stood up and said Wang Fuchun without saying a word.

Although what the man said was exactly the same as what he imagined, Qin Yuran was not happy at this time. He turned his head and looked at Beiming Hao beside him.

Beiming Hao is also puzzled.

"It seems that Wang Fuchun has some problems at this time recently. I have to investigate him carefully."

Beiming Hao also nodded. The two men discussed the amount, and then they discussed the countermeasures.

In the morning of the next day,

Wang Fuchun was full of joy waiting for Ling Luo to be punished. But he didn't expect that he had been waiting all morning for the information he wanted.

But what he heard was that Beiming Hao was ill and in danger. Be careful. Next time, he felt a little uncomfortable. He was afraid that he would be poisoned seriously. Later, he would give me the control. He quickly made the antidote into osmanthus cake and put it in the box to visit beiminghao.

Open the door, at this moment Beiming Hao is sleeping in his room, gently closed his eyes, that handsome look, like a sleeping beauty, let Wang Fuchun linger.

I don't know if it's Wang Fuchun's voice of opening the door. It's a little too loud. The man inside immediately wakes up and slowly opens his eyes. He looks at Wang Fuchun and smiles gently.

I often hear the elders say that sick people are the most vulnerable. He will show his kindness to all people. At this moment, Wang Fuchun has to believe this sentence. When beiminghao thought about himself like this, Wang Fuchun was excited.

"How did you come here? Shouldn't you do what you should do now? I have nothing to do with it. You don't have to come and see me. "

It is said that Beiming Hao doesn't seem to know that he had read it earlier and thought he had an infectious disease, so Wang Fuchun understood why the man in front of him didn't want to get close to him.

"Husband, what are you talking about? Now that you are sick in bed and Qin Yuran is not with you, I, as your wife, naturally have to take care of your clothes properly. You must have been lying for such a long time. You must be hungry. Get up and have a sweet scented osmanthus cake."

Wang Fuchun is so courteous that he doesn't forget to belittle Qin Yuran. Beiming Hao looks at the osmanthus cake in Wang Fuchun's box. He refuses to accept it with a smile, not sure if there is poison in the cake.

"It's too dry to eat. You can give me some water to drink."

Seeing that the people in front of him were so weak, Wang Fuchun's sympathy and love flooded all at once. He almost regarded the person in front of him as a little dog beside him and wished to keep him by his side and take good care of him.

He preferred to serve tea and water, and at this time, Beiming Hao also kept blowing cool wind in his ear.

"Before, I always felt that Qin Yuran would be very relieved to be around me, but now I find that I have seen Qin Yuran very much. Just like this situation, I am obviously ill, but he is already on the court, doing what he wants to do."

Wang Fuchun is secretly pleased. The man in front of him can be regarded as knowing his own good. He quickly goes to Beiming Hao and feeds it with water. He is very tactfully belittling Qin Yuran.

"Husband, maybe some things are not as beautiful as you think. It's like you always think Qin Yuran is unique in the world. But if you think about it carefully, I'm not by your side when I'm the most vulnerable? In fact, the people around you don't necessarily care about you the most. "

Two people came and went, and gradually Wang Fuchun did not know how long he had been here.

On the other side, Qin Yuran has slipped into Wang Fuchun's room. Although he doesn't know how long Beiming Hao can keep Wang Fuchun, in his opinion, Wang Fuchun will not come back soon.

Without saying a word, he looked straight into Wang Fuchun's bedroom. In his opinion, the place where girls can grow things is only in their own bedroom.Perhaps because Qin Yuran was too serious, she did not see a figure in the study opposite the screen.

At this moment, Qin Lanxiu is packing things in Wang Fuchun's room. After hearing the news, Qin Lanxiu quickly looks at the front and finds that Wang Fuchun doesn't know when he has entered the room.

Originally he wanted to shout and get Qin Yuran out, but in a flash he put his eyes on the secret culvert on the table.

It was a secret letter sent by the prime minister to Wang Fuchun to get rid of beiminghao. Originally, Wang Fuchun wanted to burn this thing, but he just heard that beiminghao's articles were in bed now, and there was no one around, so he left in a hurry and didn't care about it.

If this thing is seen by Beiming Hao, I'm afraid Wang Fuchun has never turned over in his life. Isn't it that he has a chance?

Since the last incident, Qin Lanxiu has been very sad for Wang Fuchun. He tries his best to get rid of Wang Fuchun's comfort, but he can't find any chance. This time is his chance.

Without saying a word, he put it in the most obvious place of his desk.

He was afraid that Qin Yuran would not see the same thing. When he hid, he made a sound on purpose.

Hearing the sound, Qin yuranzhi felt his hair was about to stand up. He went to the place where the voice came from.