By the end of September, the weather already carried the chill of early winter, and the leaves on the fruit trees had turned yellow, with only the tips of the leaves maintaining a touch of deep green, which wouldn't withstand the night's frost.
Despite the warm sunlight shining on her and the padded clothes she wore, Mo Yan felt a chill through her entire body.
No wonder, with such great achievements in high-yield rice, that he wanted to attribute them to her and grant her the title of County Lord—it was all part of this scheme. It was indeed a "poisoned pie," and more ridiculous was the fact that she had contributed the "filling" herself, and now she was forced to accept it with no strength left to resist.
The benefits of the Imperial Family, indeed, cannot be touched!
