When Nanny Gong saw Madam Song and the others had left, she instructed Nan Shan to stand guard at the door and then looked at Song Ci with hesitation.
"If you want to laugh at me, go ahead," Song Ci shrugged her hands and said matter-of-factly, "I truly have a bad memory. At first, I couldn't recall which Miss Wen it was."
Nanny Gong felt a slight heaviness in her heart, but she forced a smile and said, "This is common among the elderly. Even I sometimes have a blank mind and forget whether I have washed up."
"You don't need to comfort me. Forgetfulness comes with old age, and I'm only sixty—a bit early for this," Song Ci sighed.
Nanny Gong chuckled lightly, "Oh, this time you're claiming sixty as young, yet usually you say you're nothing but old bones."
Song Ci looked at her pitifully, just like the young lad Dan-ge often looked when wanting a toy he couldn't get. His gaze was weak, helpless, and pitiful.
