"I know. Every night I practice calligraphy under the pavilion he passes. The first few times he paused, and then he left. Yesterday, Father said the weather was hot and the mosquitoes were out, and I should remember to keep some herbal sachets on me to ward them off. I replied, 'Thank you, Father,' then hurriedly corrected myself to 'Prime Minister.' He seemed stunned for a moment; it wasn't until the steward reminded him that he returned to the study. Before leaving, he seemed to say, 'Look into it. If it doesn't work out, move him to the study.' The steward said it was settled." A faint glimmer of light appeared in Mo Liang’s eyes.
"Sister, I have hope now. Step by step, I will regain Father’s trust and affection. I want Wen Xi and Wen Jiu driven out of the Prime Minister’s Estate. I will kill them." The more Mo Liang spoke, the angrier he became. He had never suffered such humiliation in his life, yet he had endured it all these past few months. The coldness of human nature—even the servants and the coachman dared to give him attitude!
"Good. As long as we stick together, there is nothing we can't accomplish." Wen Ziqi looked at his attire, her heart aching for him. She reached into her bosom and pressed several silver ingots into Mo Liang’s hand.
Chapter 290