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Ye Anyu finished speaking and then turned to Feng Wuyou. Out of consideration for the National Master’s presence, she moderated her tone, "Dare you swear you never said you weren’t Feng Wuyou?"

Feng Wuyou blinked her attractive large eyes and honestly replied, "I did say that, but now I am indeed Feng Wuyou."

Seeing her admission, Ye Anyu triumphantly said, "National Master, you see, she admits it herself. Now she claims to be Feng Wuyou again, which clearly indicates that she intends to deceive the National Master."

Jun Moqing swept Ye Anyu with a cold gaze, "As a princess, do you have so much idle time every day? Always fixating on my daughter, what are your intentions?"

Ye Anyu felt a chill run down her back, and apprehension flashed in her eyes, "National Master, I’m just worried that you’ve been deceived by her, delaying the search for the real Princess Jiuyou."

Jun Moqing retorted, "Do you think I’m like you? So easy to deceive?"

Ye Anyu hastily explained, "National Master, that’s not what I meant, I just..."

Jun Moqing cut her off coldly, "My family’s affairs are none of your business as an outsider. Leave."

Where would Ye Anyu dare to say another word? Her legs went weak with fear, and she turned to flee.

After Ye Anyu left, Feng Wuyou smiled and looked toward her father, "Dad, breakfast is ready, let’s eat together."

Jun Moqing nodded, "Hmm."

On the dining table, most of the dishes were made by Feng Wuyou, including fried dough sticks, dumplings, pan-fried buns, and even century egg and lean meat porridge.

Xun Qingqing eyed the fried dough sticks and dumplings with craving; she hadn’t had any since leaving the palace.

"It’s been a long time since I’ve had fried dough sticks."

Hearing that, Jun Wuxian used his chopsticks to pick up a fried dough stick and place it in the bowl in front of her, "Then eat more."

"Okay." Xun Qingqing blushed as she picked up a fried dough stick and took a bite, crunchy on the outside and tender on the inside—it was the taste she had been craving.

Jun Wuxian watched her eat, picked up a fried dough stick, and took a bite himself. It was completely different from the meals he was used to, and it tasted good.

Feng Wuyou had deliberately prepared extra dishes, knowing her father came from the modern era and would surely miss modern cuisine.

She picked up a fried dough stick and placed it in Jun Moqing’s bowl, "Dad, you eat too."

"Mm." Jun Moqing glanced down at the porridge in front of him, recognizing it as century egg and lean meat porridge, along with the fried dough sticks and dumplings. It had been many years since he had eaten them, and he hadn’t expected to taste them again.

He had almost forgotten what fried dough sticks tasted like, it had been so long.

He picked up a fried dough stick with his chopsticks, savored it with a slow chew—it was the taste he remembered.

Seeing Jun Moqing eating, Feng Wuyou asked, "Dad, how is the taste?"

Jun Moqing generously praised, "It’s good, Little Jiuyou’s culinary skills are great."

Upon hearing that, Feng Wuyou smiled, "If my culinary skills weren’t good, how could I satisfy my own stomach?"

Xiao Jinyan watched Little Jiuyou’s actions, feeling a sourness in his heart. Sure enough, having her father back made her forget about him, her husband—not even giving him a fried dough stick.

Jun Wuxian sampled several dishes and the porridge, finding the flavor was quite good. He looked at his sister with a smile, "I never expected Little Jiuyou to be such a good cook. She used to be very lazy."

Feng Wuyou shrugged helplessly, "To satisfy my cravings, I had no choice. But since Chun Xi can cook, I don’t have to do it myself."

Xun Qingqing suddenly remembered, every time she went to Hehuan Hall for a meal, Little Jiuyou actually didn’t cook; it was Chun Xi who did, learning her cooking skills from Little Jiuyou.

"It seems I should also learn to cook properly, so I can eat Little Jiuyou’s signature dishes every day."

Feng Wuyou commented, "That’s not difficult. I’ll come up with a cookbook, and you can just have the chefs follow it."

"That’s true." Xun Qingqing continued eating fried dough sticks happily.

Jun Moqing’s gaze shifted to the pan-fried buns. He picked one up and took a bite—thin-skinned, generous filling, tender meat. It was a very authentic pan-fried bun.

Jun Moqing was never particularly fixated on food, but having been transported to ancient times, he had missed the modern food for so long, it was hard not to yearn for it. Moreover, it held a different significance being cooked by his daughter.

Therefore, whenever Little Jiuyou personally cooked the meal, he would eat more.

After breakfast, a palace maid cleared the dishes and another maid brought freshly brewed tea.

Jun Moqing lifted the tea cup and sipped a few mouthfuls of tea; he had eaten quite a few greasy dishes, and drinking tea would help cut through the grease.

Feng Wuyou was too full to drink tea, managing only to sip lightly.

Jun Moqing put down his tea cup and turned to his daughter, "Little Jiuyou, come with me to the study room."