Fan Siwen sat behind the desk with a dark expression. When he saw Mu Yangling enter with a cold expression, he stood up and bowed. "Greetings, Your Highness."
Mu Yangling raised her eyebrows and stepped aside to bow. "Uncle, you're too polite." As her gaze swept across the room, she asked with a smile, "Didn't I hear that Uncle is feeling under the weather? Yet here you are, practicing calligraphy."
She then looked at Fan Siwen's face and said, "Judging from your rosy complexion, you appear to be in good health. Those servants are too presumptuous. Aren't they cursing you?"
Fan Siwen said with a smile, "When I woke up today, I felt my chest tighten. Considering my old age, it's natural for the servants to be nervous."