Old Man Song was a traditional man, but that did not seem to mean he could not accept new trends.
A conservative parent would probably have found it difficult to accept their child dyeing their hair the same color as Song Ying's—even her long, slender eyebrows were dyed to match.
"You've met? When?" Old Man Song was curious about Song Ying's meeting with Luo Qiu.
Song Ying sat down. The Eight Immortals table had only four stools, yet there were five sets of bowls and chopsticks.
Song Ying's stool had been arranged to Luo Qiu's right, while Song Haoran sat to Luo Qiu's left. Of course, the Eight Immortals table was spacious enough that no one felt crowded.
After sitting down, Song Ying said frankly, "I heard a distinguished guest had arrived at Cold Residence, so I took some tea from Grandfather to serve him."
Luo Qiu smiled. "Miss Song also told me the story behind Junshan Silver Needle."
"Oh? Is that so?" Old Man Song chuckled and looked at Luo Qiu. "Don't let her unconventional appearance fool you. She's actually learned the art of brewing tea quite well."
"It's just a pity that someone treated fine peonies like ordinary grass and didn't know how to appreciate them." Song Ying smiled faintly.
Luo Qiu was not particularly angry. He truly did not know how to appreciate tea. Besides, although this Miss Song, whom he had just met, had been somewhat confrontational, she was still far better than a certain True Dragon who ran a pet hospital and had tried to use force the first time they met.
"Yes, it was somewhat wasted." Luo Qiu nodded. "I don't know how to savor it. I only thought it tasted all right. Besides, watching Miss Song brew tea was pleasing to the eye."