Last night had been busy, but Yan Wanqing woke up early today.
When Cong Ge entered, she saw her holding a book attentively on the Imperial Consort's couch, her porcelain white face all serious.
"Replace the charcoal in the room with a fresh basin," Cong Ge ordered the maid, her hands not idle, she took a coat to put on Yan Wanqing, "It's still very cold in the morning, miss should be careful."
Yan Wanqing patted her hand and didn't speak, her attention still on the military book in her hand, so Cong Ge motioned for someone to bring in breakfast.
The morning meal wasn't much, but it was exquisite and delicate, and it tasted good.
Smelling the fragrance, Yan Wanqing seemed to think of something, she instructed Cong Ge, "Send an exact same portion to the firewood room, you go personally."
"Yes," Cong Ge obeyed and left.
