Meng Zhao nodded with a smile, watching the carriage slowly drive away. Huang Cui stood beside her, watching the carriage recede into the distance, and said softly, "Although Miss Song looks the same as before, her temperament is much gentler than it was two years ago."

"Yes," Meng Zhao sighed softly, her gaze still fixed on the street corner where the carriage had disappeared. "It wasn't so obvious when they were exchanging letters, but after talking to her today, I realized she has indeed changed a lot."

For a person's temperament to undergo such a transformation, they must have experienced something. And in the past two or three years, the biggest change has been the birth of Manman. It seems that the impact of motherhood on a woman is truly not to be underestimated.

***

At the gate of the Shen residence, Afu was respectfully seeing off a middle-aged man in a gray robe. After the guest had gone far away, he turned around to return to the residence, but ran into Madam Gu, who was about to leave.

Madam Gu stopped and asked, "Afu, who was that just now?"

Afu's expression tightened, and he quickly bowed, replying, "Replying to Madam, it's...it's people from the yamen, here to deliver some official documents to Your Excellency."

Hearing that it was official business, Madam Gu did not ask any further questions. She adjusted her cloak and went straight out the door. Afu watched his wife's back and secretly breathed a sigh of relief, but still returned to his study with a worried expression.

Pushing open the door, one sees Shen Qinghe hunched over his desk, writing furiously. Afu reports in a low voice, "Sir, the doctor has been sent away. Just now, when the madam asked about it, I said it was someone from the yamen delivering official documents."

Shen Qinghe continued writing, only responding lightly, "Alright, but don't let the rest of the family know about this."

Afu frowned deeply. This morning, just as dawn was breaking, his master ordered him to fetch a doctor. At first, he was puzzled, but when he saw the blood-soaked clothes behind the door, his heart almost jumped out of his throat. He hurriedly fetched the doctor, and when he saw the two wounds on his master's shoulder, he was so shocked that he couldn't speak.

Seeing his father still writing with his injured right hand, Afu couldn't help but cautiously advise, "Sir, the doctor specifically instructed that you must take good care of your injury and absolutely must not exert yourself any further..."

Shen Qing paused, raised her eyes and glanced at him indifferently. Although her gaze was calm, it contained boundless coldness, which made Afu immediately shut up and lower his head, not daring to say another word.

Ah Fu secretly pondered to himself, "Should I... secretly tell Madam Meng?" After all, in this mansion, besides the Madam, only Madam Meng could persuade the master.

As he was thinking, there was a sudden, urgent knocking at the door. Afu thought that when he went to fetch the doctor, he had also asked for leave from the Zhan family's residence. Who could it be now? As soon as he heard what the person said, he rushed to the study and bowed, saying, "My lord, someone from the palace has come. They say His Majesty urgently summons you."

Upon hearing this, Shen Qinghe looked up, quickly put down his pen, and said in a deep voice, "Bring me your official robes."

Afu hurriedly helped Shen Qing change her clothes. When she raised her arm, she accidentally aggravated her wound. Shen Qing frowned slightly but did not say anything.

At this moment, the people from the Zhan family were waiting at the palace gate. When they saw Shen Qinghe coming over, they finally breathed a sigh of relief. "Lord Shen, you've finally arrived! It's strange, nothing much has happened on ordinary days, but just because you asked for leave today, His Majesty suddenly came to the East Palace."

"What happened?" Shen Qinghe walked with the speed of the wind, the hem of his official robe fluttering up and down with each step.

The subordinate jogged to catch up and whispered, "His Majesty suddenly came to the East Palace to test the Crown Prince's knowledge. We were waiting outside. At first, it was calm, but then we started arguing for some reason. Then we heard His Majesty say that he wanted to summon you. I vaguely heard something about wheat or something."

Shen Qinghe paused slightly, a knowing glint in his eyes. He straightened his official hat, took a deep breath, and stepped into the East Palace gate.

He lowered his head and stepped inside. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the eight-year-old prince standing in the room. Although his face was still a little chubby and he looked very young, his apricot-yellow dragon robe and his cold and arrogant expression gave him quite an imposing presence.

Shen Qinghe stared intently at the floor in front of him, then bowed deeply to the bright yellow figure behind the imperial desk: "Your humble servant greets Your Majesty."

"Rise, my dear minister." Emperor Yongning's voice descended from above, deep and resonant like a bell. When Shen Qinghe looked up, he saw the emperor holding a vermilion brush and writing something. As a subject, he naturally could not ask any questions. He waited until Emperor Yongning finished writing before asking, "My dear minister Shen, was it you who told the Crown Prince that wheat yields could reach four shi per mu?"

"Your Majesty," Shen Qinghe replied, bowing, "it is indeed as Your Highness the Crown Prince and I have said. If farming methods are improved and superior varieties are selected, the yield of wheat can reach up to four shi per mu."

Emperor Yongning's lips curled slightly, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes: "Hua Zhang, Hua Zhang, I originally thought you were an all-knowing scholar, but I didn't expect there are things you don't know."

It turned out that Emperor Yongning had just decided to personally test the Crown Prince's studies at the Eastern Palace. At first, the Crown Prince answered fluently, which pleased the Emperor. However, when the topic of agriculture came up, Emperor Yongning frowned and said, "Nonsense! Even in the best years, the yield of wheat is only two shi per mu. How can you say it's four shi?"

When the eight-year-old crown prince was tested on his knowledge, he was a little nervous, but when it came to this matter, he was extremely insistent, clutching the hem of his clothes and refusing to back down. "Father, I am not speaking recklessly. As long as we improve farming and select good varieties, one mu of land can indeed produce four shi of wheat." His childish voice revealed an undeniable firmness.

Emperor Yongning was even angrier when he saw how stubborn he was. "Nonsense! When I was personally tilling the fields, you were still an infant nursing in your swaddling clothes! Do I know about farming, or do you, a mere child who has barely left the palace, know about farming?"

The atmosphere in the palace became tense. The father and son, who were more than twenty years apart in age, were arguing in front of the emperor. Emperor Yongning was furious, but the crown prince stubbornly raised his little face and refused to give an inch. This led to the urgent summons of Shen Qinghe to the palace.

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