Jiang Ning took a sip of tea: "Is it just a resemblance? Do you want to take a closer look?"
Jiang Ruobai glanced at her, picked up the fingertip, and examined it carefully for a moment. He laughed: "This imitation is quite interesting."
"What do you mean?"
"Girl, what's your father's status?"
"Prime Minister."
With a steady grip on the teacup, Jiang Ruobai said: "And I am in a high position and have many enemies in the Imperial Court. Over the years, there have been countless people who have wanted to harm me and those who have imitated my handwriting. Although I don't know where this piece of paper came from, it doesn't make much of a difference."
"Ah!" Jiang Ning sighed.
"At such a young age, what are you sighing about?"
"Dad, since you're so smart, why don't you guess where I got this piece of paper?"
Feigning mystery, Jiang Ruobai glanced at her face and pondered for a moment: "Could it be from... Mu Jian?"
Jiang Ning was shocked: "Hey, Dad, you're incredible."