OMG! Tyrant's Pampered Baby Is a Valued Princess-Chapter 880: Uncle Bai and Uncle Hei

Zhi’er was momentarily taken aback.

Her pretty face immediately bloomed with a giggle.

"Of course not!"

Feng Fuce heard her affirmative answer, and his eyes grew even darker.

He turned his head to look elsewhere.

Zhi’er saw his tense profile, clearly upset.

She reached out her fingertip to poke his shoulder.

"That red rope of fate is obviously for them as a couple, how could it be for us?"

Feng Fuce suddenly turned back, gazing coldly at her.

"Even if not a couple, it can be used. In this mortal world, besides me, who else could have such a long life to accompany you through a lifetime?"

Zhi’er blinked her big eyes, tilting her head to think: "Xiao Li?"

Being a snake demon, it has a very long life too.

Feng Fuce never expected she’d deliberately challenge him.

He sneered slightly.

"Fine, I’ll return and skin it."

Zhi’er quickly rushed over to grab his sleeve: "I’m just joking with you!"

Feng Fuce cared very much about the things she gave.

Zhi’er thought it was the same this time; he might have misunderstood that it was meant for him, so seeing the rope taken away left him a bit lost.

She comforted him saying: "When we return to the Capital, I will personally cook sweet soup for you, how about that?"

The so-called sweet soup was something Zhi’er concocted according to her taste.

Half a gram of sweet pear, half a slice of dried orange peel, two green plums, and a handful of yellow rock sugar.

Once boiled, the soup was crystal clear, sweet but not greasy.

For so long, she had only made it for her father to taste.

Feng Fuce pondered for a moment at the thought of tasting something she made by hand.

Then he gently nodded: "Okay."

The red rope was missing, so be it, he’ll request again next time.

At this moment, Madam Yan’s enormous crying came from inside the room.

Zhi’er and Feng Fuce quickly went in.

They saw Madam Yan had already stumbled off the bed, rushing to Yan Song’s spirit tablet.

"Husband, I promised you, I will be fine, and we’ll reunite once my life ends."

Having said that, she crouched in front of the cabinet, bawling.

Zhi’er stepped forward: "Madam Yan, according to your pact with your husband, I must send him to hell now."

Madam Yan turned around, her eyes red and swollen, she nodded weakly.

Her voice was a bit hoarse: "Thank you all."

She agreed so decisively.

It seemed Yan Song had finally persuaded her.

Zhi’er’s delicate, fair palm suddenly emitted strands, dazzling like golden light.

The room filled with a breeze, fluttering the strands of hair on the girl’s forehead, making her pretty face more charming, her red lips full.

Yet Madam Yan felt a chilling wind, and heard the clinking sound of chains dragging.

She became a bit flustered: "Is the Ghost Messenger here? Will they punish my husband?"

Zhi’er shook her head: "Don’t worry, I’m vouching for him. In hell, he will only be verbally reprimanded, not troubled."

Madam Yan was about to kneel before Zhi’er.

The girl hurriedly raised her: "No need to kneel, I’m just doing it for merit!"

Having said that, she lifted her eyes, looking into the corner.

Because of her summoning, Black and White Impermanence had come personally.

They were on each side, holding Yan Song’s arms.

Madam Yan couldn’t see; her husband was shedding tears of reluctance, staring at her nonstop.

Zhi’er sweetly smiled: "Uncle Hei, Uncle Bai, I’m entrusting General Yan to you."

Faced with Zhi’er, both continued to smile cheerfully.

"No problem at all, but when will you visit hell again? Lord Yama always talks about you."