After hearing this, Madam Zhao looked past Hanqiao's side towards the gate of the Prajna Hall, her expression calm and composed.

"You go to the front hall and serve first," Nanny Zhao gestured calmly, then took the exquisite food box handed to her and walked straight to the Buddhist hall, which contained the dinner prepared for the old lady.

Seeing this, Hanqiao secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

She knew that her mission here had been completed, and that Madam Zhao would handle the rest in an orderly manner.

She exchanged a glance with the maid who had come with her, and they both nodded in tacit understanding, then quietly retreated.

Ever since the coffin of old Marquis Xue Yonghuai was transported back to the capital from the distant border, everyone in the mansion has been immersed in grief and sorrow.

Old Madam Hong was extremely grief-stricken. Apart from the necessary daily necessities of life and food, she spent most of her time in the Buddhist temple, silently chanting sutras and praying for blessings.

But for some reason this morning, the door was closed and no one was allowed to enter. This made Hanqiao, the maid who usually handled things well, panic and she could only stay outside the door.

Nanny Zhao came to the door carrying a food box and listened carefully to the noise inside the house.

She was the personal maid who served the old lady Hong Yingrong when she was at her parents' home. She followed the old lady to the marquis' mansion as a dowry and spent thirty long years there.

In the past, there were several experienced maids in the marquis's mansion. Some of them retired due to old age and declining physical strength, while others were worried about their parents and returned to the farm to live with their husband's family.

However, Nanny Zhao has never married in her life and has only been serving the old lady. Now she is the top female servant in the marquis's mansion. Even the young masters and young ladies in the mansion are polite to her when they see her.

"Madam, it's already evening. Would you like to have dinner first and then make other arrangements?"

Inside the Buddhist hall, the sound of robes and skirts rubbing against each other could be heard softly.

"Come in."

Hong Yingrong's voice sounded calm and deep, without too much emotional ups and downs.

Upon hearing this, Madam Zhao pushed the door open and walked in.

As soon as she entered the door, she immediately noticed the old lady's expression, and a hint of surprise flashed in her eyes.

During the seven-day period of mourning, Hong Yingrong's eyes were red and swollen every day and she was deeply in grief.

At this moment, she looked calm, and even showed a bit of tenacity in her eyes.

Before Aunt Zhao put down the food box, Hong Yingrong spoke slowly again, as if talking about something very ordinary.

"Go and fetch my imperial robe. The day after tomorrow, after the old marquis is buried, his tablet will be moved to the Imperial Ancestral Temple. I will personally accompany him on this final journey."