The innkeeper took the order, and the waitress first served tea before heading to the kitchen to prepare the dishes.
This inn had a ground floor dining hall, seemingly not intended for an overnight stay. Qu Xiaojue poured a cup of tea and handed it to Xu Wanzhi, who lowered his head and drank.
She smiled: “Regardless of windows, my husband seems to prefer sitting against the wall?”
“Habit,” he answered, then suddenly praised: “This tea tastes quite good.”
“Eagle tea. Rich yet refreshing flavor, reasonably priced.” As she spoke, she sipped her own cup slowly. Xu Wanzhi nodded, glancing at the guests who entered with large bags, and asked: “Is this a town? Will we stay after the meal?”
“Is my husband asking because he wants to buy something?” Xu Wanzhi raised his eyes: “Recreational items.”
The hall wasn’t crowded, and the dishes weren’t served quickly, but after their bumpy journey, none of them were impatient. They quietly drank tea, exchanging occasional idle chat.
When the first dish arrived, he finally asked: “Do you always sit at a separate table from your subordinates?” At home he could understand, but out traveling, Qu Xiaojue didn’t seem like someone with so many formalities.
She was stunned, suddenly picking up chopsticks to serve him a small dish: “It’s not a wilderness. It’s fine for me, but there should be some distinction between us.” It was more appropriate to be somewhat reserved.
Xu Wanzhi nodded silently and continued eating. Qu Xiaojue knew he would understand at a hint—saying it once was enough.
More guests gradually entered the hall, mostly heroic-looking women, some accompanied by one or two men who sat timidly, blushing and keeping still.
Someone like Xu Wanzhi, sitting casually and eating comfortably, was rare, though Qu Xiaojue’s composure was also noteworthy. Fortunately, they were mostly curious, with no ill intentions.
Qu Xiaojue secretly broke into a sweat. Though she had been eye-catching before, she felt even more conspicuous traveling with her husband. Yet, he seemed even less concerned.
Thinking this, she heard a surprised call: “Qu Family Master?”
” It was Zhou Xian, whom she had met once at Qingxin Garden, accompanied by two men, one wearing a face-covering veil, supporting another—seemingly a master and servant.
“Zhou Miss.”
