Ying Yue stared at the wooden bowl that was sitting on top of the only table that was available in her room.
The problem was neither the lack of furniture nor the fact that instead of porcelain, the food was served in a wooden bowl.
After all, she was not really the Empress of the Hyuang Empire. Scratch that! Her life was probably even more miserable than the servants of the Palace.
Back to the point, the actual problem which was making Ying Yue's blood boil was the so-called food, or porridge to be precise, that she was supposed to eat.
The bowl was filled with soup like white-colored water with barely a few grains of rice in it.
What kind of poverty was this, Ah?
The porridge disgusted her to such a level that she would rather drink poison than eating that horrible thing.
Ying Yue moved her disgusted gaze away from the bowl of PORRIDGE and looked at her two maidservants who were staring down at their feet.
