"Fool, I'm still your cousin sister no matter what," Zheng Nianru said as she caressed the youth's soft hair, her voice carrying a hint of sorrow.
Perhaps, Zheng Haoyuan's future disposition would be greatly influenced by these experiences. Noble Consort Wen's domineering tyranny had been far too harsh, and with Zheng Haoyuan being sensitive and fond of depending on others, he slowly became the absurdly bloodthirsty man he was later known to be.
"Fu Gong, these wounds are on you, and no one else is in pain because of them. If you don't rest up properly, you're just hurting yourself. Foolish, isn't it?" Zheng Nianru said as she applied the medicine to the wounds, and she could feel the youth's skin tense up from the pain.
