Zhi'er pretended to be surprised upon hearing the news, her face full of regret.
"Ah? I'm sorry, please accept my condolences."
Fan Xinhui wiped away her tears and raised her head: "This sad matter, let's leave it. I came here specifically to thank you, miss, and sir."
"Last time, thanks to your reminder, this box contains a pair of mandarin ducks, please accept them."
Her maid opened the brocade box and walked in front of Zhi'er for her to examine it closely.
Zhi'er glanced at it.
The mandarin ducks were actually carved out of pure White Jade, without a trace of impurity, their value obvious at a glance.
But Zhi'er felt a twinge of oddity.
Fan Xinhui's child had just been killed by a concubine, logically one shouldn't have the mood for such miscellaneous affairs.
If she truly wanted to express gratitude, sending someone over would suffice.
After all, Zhi'er wouldn't doubt how Fan Xinhui knew where their family lived.
