Eight-year-old Jiang Hao, chubby and tall among his peers, is being held tightly by his mother in a nurturing embrace.
Imperial Concubine Fan held him too tightly, making Jiang Hao struggle for breath, and he struggled to free himself.
Imperial Concubine Fan did not let go, instead holding him even tighter, like a miser clutching his treasure.
Jiang Hao was never a well-tempered child, and he burst into tears and struggled, pushing his mother with force. Imperial Concubine Fan was caught off guard and staggered backward, nearly falling. At the critical moment, someone caught her: "Please stand firm, Lady Fan."
It was the same hands as yesterday.
It was Song Yuan, Personal Guard Commander of Jiang Shaohua.
Imperial Concubine Fan's heart skipped twice, hurriedly raising her eyes to look at Song Yuan. Song Yuan had already withdrawn his hand and stepped aside. That resolute, masculine visage was like an indelible mark on her heart.
