"What's this?"
"Mother, this is a painting I made myself, and I respectfully present it to you."
Qianxue called Xiao Anzi over from the doorway, and the two of them unfolded the document, which showed Geng Youran pruning flowers in the garden.
This was drawn by Hongzhou based on his memory.
"Hmm, not bad."
Hongzhou, who had been keeping his head down, raised it with delight when he heard his mother praising him.
"Mother!"
Geng Youran sighed. After all, the person standing in front of her was her own son. What could she do?
"Why are you looking at your mother like that? Your mother won't eat you."
Then Geng Youran asked Qianxue to bring over the pastries she had specially made that morning:
"I heard that your wife is suffering from morning sickness and can't eat anything. Your mother has made some easy-to-digest snacks. Take them back and let your wife try them. If she likes them, have this servant go to the palace and let your mother know, and I will make more for her."
"Son, son thanks your mother for thinking of you."
"Alright, alright, let's go. Didn't your father send you and Prince Chun to the Confucius Temple in Qufu to offer sacrifices? Hurry up and leave the palace to get ready."
"Son takes his leave."
Only after Hongzhou left did Geng Youran smile.
"Xiao Anzi, hang this painting in my study."
"Yes, sir."
Qianxue, on the other hand, was secretly amused.
My lady really has a sharp tongue but a soft heart. She's clearly not angry anymore, but she's still putting on a cold face to scare the prince.
"Qianxue, what are you laughing at? Did I tell you to dry the chrysanthemums?"
"No, I wasn't laughing at anything. I'll go right away!"
Feeling guilty, Qianxue quickly ran out. Geng Youran shook her head helplessly, thinking that there was no one around her she could trust.
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