"Your sister is very clever. Otherwise, how could she have discovered so many things in barely a month after entering the palace? And how could she have used such a discreet method to send us a message?"
Whenever his daughter was mentioned, Jiang Shi was immensely proud. She would not allow anyone to say a single bad word about her—not even her own son.
Su Zimo was already used to being scolded whenever the subject of his sister came up. Rubbing his sore head, he said timidly, "I didn't say there was anything wrong with my sister."
"Those so-called noble ladies aren't fit to compare with even one finger of my daughter's."
"All right, let's not talk about that for now. We should first think about what would be best to do next!" Old Grand Tutor interrupted them.
Su Zimo pointed at the words on the Buddhist Sutra, which had slowly faded away after the medicinal liquid dried:
"Grandfather, Eldest Uncle, didn't my sister say so in this letter? As for the news about her, whether it's true or false, we don't need to pay attention to the rumors outside. If something really happens, she'll find a way to send word back."
Old Grand Tutor thought for a moment. "Yes. Regardless of whether Qiao'er's pregnancy is true or false, we must treat it as real. I think Qiao'er feels the same way."
"As for the method mentioned in this letter, using Pinyin to transmit messages is indeed a brilliant idea. Everyone in the family should learn it, but not a single word may be passed on to outsiders. Understood?"
Su Yunhai nodded solemnly. "Father, rest assured. We know how serious this is."
"That's right, Grandfather, don't worry. None of us are thoughtless little boys." The three fourteen- or fifteen-year-old grandsons