C134

Upon hearing Molda's words, the servant quickly ran out of the door and headed towards the Flying Flower Pavilion.

For half an hour, however, Morda did not receive an answer.

But began to pick up Joe again?

Or was she playing some game she didn't know about?

Mordor rested his chin on his hand, his eyes rolling from side to side. His gaze wandered from the wide hall to the open south window of the Flying Flower Pavilion.

Early in the morning, when the sun was shining, the birds were still singing merrily. 49 Surely he would not miss such a fine morning?

Unbeknownst to her, the maidservant served the roast beef and lamb, then spread a white cloth over Morda's legs, gently hinting that breakfast was about to begin.

Molda did not waste any time.

"Take it away!"

The servant was instantly put in a difficult position.

"General?"

"Take it away!"

Morda spoke again, in a tone of impatience.

The servant didn't dare to say anything else, and could only look at Butler Cong awkwardly, with a questioning gaze.

Even though the functions of Housekeeper Cong had already been removed, his authority in the Bright Moon Tower remained the same. Morda's life was decided by the steward.

Housekeeper Cong instantly saw through the situation. He raised his hand and beckoned the maidservants, "You may leave first." He then patted his nonexistent clothes, and quickly walked behind Molda, bowing humbly as he asked the general if he had any orders.

Yes.

Molda gave a light snort. He gazed at the Flying Flower Pavilion and spoke with a depressed tone.

"I was wondering why I haven't been here to see you this morning."

"Don't tell me that in his eyes, I, Mo Da, do not possess any dignity?"

As expected, Steward Cong was thinking of that bad guy 49! He was shouting that the natural order of things did not respond well! Last night, you let me be spoiled in front of my master, but I didn't expect you would be punished the next morning!

She immediately put on a professional smile and speculated in a very friendly manner, "Maybe 49 drank too much last night and is sleeping too hard now. "And the man sent to call him is not awake now?"

"General, I remember clearly last night. 49 One person drank a tael of gold for a total of 2 jin. This was the amount of men with the most tolerance for alcohol in the Heavenly Wolf Country that could turn into a pile of mud. "49 is still a child, how can I bear it?"

Molda asked again suspiciously. Then, he was stunned once more.

Previously, he only wanted to play in the underground beast battle stadium because he had nothing better to do. That was why he dug out the powerful one, which was like the one from Ink Flame Yan herself. Even though he looked very thin and frail, he was able to tame a beast king. He was able to collect a large amount of gold and silver for himself with great dexterity. After so many pleasures, he had actually forgotten one thing.

How old was 49 itself? Was it a child? Or maybe …

As Molda thought of this, the image of the two of them meeting for the first time appeared in his mind. he shouted, taking off his clothes. He made a move with determination, ripping the red marks from all over his eyes. At that time, all of his attention was focused on the scar. He was surprised that he could still easily win with forty-nine heavy injuries. However, he did not pursue the question of why a person of such great skill would even give the wild beast a chance to seriously injure him!

Was this a reminder from the heavens?

Morda pondered, but he could not tell why he was hesitating.

The servant that was sent out before finally ran back and knelt on the ground, his forehead covered in sweat.

"General!" I have just been diagnosed, and 49 has fallen into a coma. The doctors at the market all said that he was suffering from injuries caused by excessive drinking, and they all said that he could not be cured. This lowly one has no choice but to return. May I ask what does the general plan to do next? "

"Should we take advantage of his breath and throw it away, or …"

As the servant said this, he did not dare to raise his head anymore. Instead, he quietly lay on the ground, waiting for his master's decision.

Molda's flying thoughts finally came to a halt! The hand holding his chin shook and a large puddle of tea splashed onto the table. The tea quickly dyed the table black and caused the originally calm and dignified dining table to look as if it had fallen into the water.

He pushed the thought of what gender he was under the bandage to the back of his mind and repeated dryly, "Can't cure it?" He couldn't believe that 49, who was jumping around in front of him a few days ago and wanted to dig a hole in the sky, was on the verge of death today.

To this day, the young servant Moorda had never seen his master lose his composure like this. Lying on the ground, he didn't even raise his head. He braced himself to ponder whether he should stay or get rid of them.

Following again!

"How dare you!"

Mo Da suddenly shouted, pulling the little servant up with one hand. * Kacha * The little servant's pupils did not even contract in time, and the bright world fell into eternal darkness in the blink of an eye. He turned his head and looked at Butler Cong with an eerie look. His long eyelid moved as he stared at him, his gaze filled with doubt. Was this not his idea?

"I remember last night, you didn't say he was a kid, did you?"

Steward Cong, who was standing by the side, stared at the completely different general in shock. Could it be that the general wanted him to take the blame? He was so shocked that he lost his voice and kneeled on the ground. Shaking, he watched as Morda approached him. Every step was like a countdown stopwatch, announcing his death in a cruel and cold manner.

But what had he done wrong?

Butler Cong felt like he was being controlled by a dog! Why was this sh * tty sh * t heading straight for his head?

"General, why don't we call the royal physician?"

Molda took a step forward in silence. The huge shadow fell on the old man's thin body. It was like a giant demon was facing an ant, constantly torturing the soul of the weak.

Housekeeper Cong swallowed hard and couldn't help but speed up his speech. It was as if just by saying a few more words, she could save his life.

This old servant once heard that there was an imperial physician staying in the house of the Southern Prince. His medical skills were extremely outstanding. He had once been able to snatch a dystocia woman back from the clutches of death. 49 He just had a relapse from drinking, and he's no more dangerous than a woman having a baby.

"Should we …"

After that.

As expected, Molda stopped, and the hand reaching for the butler's neck changed to a raised collar.

Molda instantly regained his composure and calmly nodded his head, saying that this might be an option. He casually flung the butler towards the door and said that he would leave the royal doctors of the Southern Prince's Mansion to you.

He had never felt as though death was so close to him before. "Almost to the point of tears of gratitude." No matter what, this old servant will definitely ask the imperial physician to treat you! If you can't cure it, then this old servant's head will be taken away at any time! This old servant will not say anything more! "

After speaking, he hurriedly ran out of the main hall. He desperately tried to get rid of the suffocating atmosphere.

At this moment, Molda, who was in possession of Death, suddenly snapped his fingers and said, "I'm hungry, hurry up and serve the dishes."

In the midst of running away, the steward felt relieved. He leaned against the wall and shouted in his heart, "Hurry up and die!" Did your conscience get eaten by a dog after torturing an innocent old man like me so early in the morning?

However, this thought did not stay in his mind for even a second before Molda, who was still some distance away, suddenly added a sentence.

"I'll have to eat my fill later. I'll have enough time to watch the doctor treat her 49 years later …"

At that time, even Housekeeper Cong couldn't say why.

He just felt that this time the scourge would not die.