The caravan was halfway along its journey when Su Xingze's letter from home arrived, and was handed to the Lady of the house.
Looking at the two letters, one written to their mother and one written to the seventh sister, she weighed them in her hand. Clearly, the thickness of the letter written to her was inferior to the one Su Rong received, which annoyed her. "Isn't this his biological mother! Was he born just to vex me?"
Wang's mother smiled, "Lady, don't be angry. The majority of the letter to the seventh miss is didactic in nature. Every time she wishes that the eldest son would stop mentioning her, finding him too verbose."
The Lady snorted, "Anyway, in his eyes, since childhood, he only has this sister; he pays no mind to his birth mother."
