As she walked up to the castle, she finally saw that the castle was built on a small mountain peak. The top of the peak was a disc, with a cylindrical base below.
Just now, the cylindrical mountain peak was blocked by cherry blossom trees, so from a distance, the castle seed to be floating in mid-air.
There are special stairs built here that lead up to the castle above.
Mo Ran followed Fujiwara Ize up, and standing close to the castle, the visual impact was even more intense.
Cherry blossom trees were also planted around the castle, filling the air with a refreshing floral fragrance.
Fujiwara Ize pushed open the door and led her inside, where everything was designed in the style of 18th-century European royalty.
Mo Ran felt an illusion of traveling through ti.
Standing in the center of the hall, Fujiwara Ize spread his arms and smiled faintly at Mo Ran, "Ran, this is a gift from my father to my mother. Now, I am giving it to you. Do you like it?"
Mo Ran was slightly dazed but quickly understood his intention for bringing her here.
"No need, I don’t want it."
A trace of dimness flashed in Fujiwara Ize’s eyes, "Ran, I just want to give you my heartfelt feelings."
Mo Ran, feeling sowhat tired, sat on the sofa and spoke coldly, "Don’t disgust . If you did nothing, perhaps I could pretend to ignore you. But if you deliberately do sothing, I will feel disgusted."
Fujiwara Ize’s smile disappeared from the corners of his mouth. He turned around and went upstairs, like a sulking child.
Mo Ran glanced at him indifferently, without any thoughts in her mind.
She rested downstairs for a few hours, and Fujiwara Ize did not co down. Having no other choice, she decided to go to the kitchen to find sothing to eat herself.
The refrigerator was full of food, all looking very fresh. Perhaps Fujiwara had soone prepare them in advance.
Mo Ran cracked two eggs, mixed in so scallions and salt, and made an olet. She also stir-fried so pork with greens and ate it along with the olet.
Halfway through her al, Fujiwara Ize ca down from upstairs, glanced at her, said nothing, and went into the kitchen.
From inside ca the clattering sounds of pots and pans, making it clear that he didn’t know how to cook.
Mo Ran remained indifferent. After eating, she didn’t bother to clean up the dishes and went back to sit on the sofa.
After a while, Fujiwara Ize ca out, his white shirt stained with vegetable leaves. "Ran, I don’t know how to cook. Can you help make a al?"
Mo Ran gave him a glance and said flatly, "I’m tired, I don’t want to move."
Making a al for him, what a joke.
Could anyone really eat the food she made?
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