Fourth Master held his forehead, remaining silent and motionless for a long time.

The mother and son fell silent, afraid to speak again and try to make their presence felt.

Seeing that Fourth Master wasn't paying attention, Jiaming glared at Hongjing. "Son, you've really messed up your father's life! Your father is having such a headache!"

Hongjing looked at Jiaming with pleading eyes, hoping his mother would intercede with his father on his behalf.

Jiaming silently shook her head, indicating that she would not agree.

Hongjing looked pitiful with a droopy face.

No matter how pitiful he was, it was no use. After the Fourth Prince recovered from his headache, he confiscated the token that Hongjing had given him to enter and exit the Yuanmingyuan, and at the same time punished him by making him recite a book.

"Just memorizing it, it's too easy," the little guy quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Wait, this is too easy for you. You will sell the vegetables your father grew and be punished by watering and weeding them every day until the next batch is ready to be harvested."

His anxiety subsided again. It was just watering the vegetables; he didn't particularly dislike the task, and it wasn't difficult.

"And you too!"

"Me?" Jiaming pointed at herself, dumbfounded.

What does Hongjing's mistake have to do with her?

Fourth Master: "Jing'er is your son. You even told him that doing business is the most profitable thing. You're the one who made him think about that."

Jiaming: "..." It's as if she could give birth to her son all by herself.

The Fourth Prince ignored Jiaming's frustration and resentment. He thought, "Hmph, the child has ruined my life, how can she, as her mother, have it easy? She needs someone to be with her, just like Hongxuan did back then."

As a result, Jiaming was still implicated by Hongjing's disastrous behavior.

Similarly, watering and weeding the vegetable garden—because the little guy is too small, and they were worried he couldn't manage alone, so she, as his mother, took over; copying the Thousand Character Classic a hundred times. Because the child's hands are too small to write, you, as his mother, helped him.

Jiaming glared at Hongjing, feeling annoyed, thinking to herself, "Another troublemaker."