Jiang Zhiyu took a sip of tea and sneered at the words: "Why stop him? If you stop him, those ungrateful people will still be aggressive. Let him fall once, and they will know how powerful you are. Go, tell the outsiders not to stop him, let him crawl."
Zhuying nodded in agreement, and after a while, the crying outside stopped.
Jiang Zhiyu was no longer sleepy, but she didn't want to get up either, so she wrapped herself in the quilt like a silkworm cocoon.
The Second Master that Zhuying mentioned is her father's brother, Jiang Jianjin. It's a good name, but he is not worthy of it at all. He is lazy, greedy, and lustful.
Originally, the third brother of the prime minister had obtained a leisurely official position and the salary was enough for him to live on.
But human greed was so great that people learned to embezzle money and even stole the money used by the emperor for disaster relief.
If Jiang Zhaorong had not protected him and handed over all of Jiang Jianjin's money and houses in the past few years, he might not have been able to save his head.
His life was saved, but after doing such a thing, he would never be able to serve as an official in the court again in this life, so Jiang Zhaorong thought of sending him back to his hometown.
But having seen the extravagance of Tianqi, how could Jiang Jianjin be willing to return to the poor northwest area?
Their mother, Old Mrs. Jiang, was also confused. After her second son howled a few times, she forced Jiang Zhaorong to take him in.
Now the whole family lives in the prime minister's mansion. Not only do they not feel like dependents, but because of the old lady's favoritism and Jiang Zhaorong's indulgence, they seem more like the masters of the prime minister's mansion.
Recalling the plot, Jiang Zhiyu shuddered a few times in the quilt, thinking three, two, one in his mind. The next second, he heard a cry of pain that resounded through the sky.
The corners of her mouth suddenly curled up. It was harder to bet than AK.
She couldn't miss this great show, so she stood up, took the cloak from the maid and ran into the yard.
A fat boy of six or seven years old was crying loudly, and a group of maids were surrounding him to comfort him. The child had a big bump on his head and his face was covered in blood.
[Hey, your face got hit first. I'm sure you'll learn your lesson now.]
Jiang Sulan, who had just left the house: "..."
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