But with a slight glance.
Seeing the pile of memorials on the side of the emperor's desk, Ying Zheng felt a bit overwhelmed again.
...
Zhao Mansion!
"The master has returned."
A loud shout.
The servants in the entire residence immediately bustled about.
And in front of the mansion gates.
Wang Yan had already come with her two children.
It had been nearly a year since they last met.
The two little ones had grown much taller.
Now they were already six years old.
Wang Yan was holding a little baby, Zhao Feng's third son, Zhao Wu.
Beside her, Wu Yang was also holding a girl of similar age, Zhao Pan.
"Welcome back, husband."
Wang Yan and a few concubines bowed to greet Zhao Feng warmly.
Looking at his long-lost wife, and seeing these concubines, Zhao Feng also revealed a smile.
"Qi'er, Ling'er."
"Come to your father."
Zhao Feng squatted down, smiling and waving.
"Father."
The two little ones quickly ran over and leapt into Zhao Feng's arms.
