Cheng Yue asked, "Mother saw a man wearing the Eight-treasure Pearl Crown coming to our house, who is he?"
Qian Yixiu replied indifferently, "He is Prince Consort Pan, how about it, quite handsome, isn't he?"
Cheng Yue stared at Qian Yixiu blankly, feeling as if a thread of clarity amidst her chaotic thoughts was about to burst forth but couldn't break through. The more she thought, the more her head hurt. She couldn't bear it any longer and, holding her head, said, "Oh, my head, my head really hurts."
Qian Yixiu was frightened and quickly helped her lie down on the bed. Seeing that she gradually fell asleep, she then relaxed.
Little Mom hasn't been sick for a long time, what's wrong now?
Qian Yixiu watched over little Mom's pale face, who seemed to have worries even in her sleep, with her eyebrows lightly furrowed.