The Crown Prince's Mansion was utterly silent. Zheng Congyuan had finished all the memorials and suddenly felt an emptiness, a lack of something to do that made him somewhat irritable.
He then picked up a book and after only two pages, he threw it away.
Qi Ling heard the noise inside the room, turned his head to look inside, but did not dare to enter.
Zheng Congyuan picked up another book. Prince Duan was right—now was the best option for Nian Ru, but how could Prince Duan know the true nature of Heir Zong? How could the aristocratic gentry clans truly tolerate a woman of Nian Ru's status?
Zheng Congyuan put down the book. The tea on the desk had completely cooled, and the leaves at the bottom emitted an air of dull defeat. Zheng Congyuan pushed the teacup forward, to get it out of sight.
It was just too coincidental that Heir Zong was ill, and only Nian Ru's birth date matched his.
Zheng Congyuan wanted to scoff, but found no reason to.
