At the beginning of June, the weather gradually warmed up. The sun above was bright and scorching, the garden was full of colorful flowers, and the hot wind brushed against one's face, carrying waves of floral scents.
Song Lichen pushed his glasses with one hand, and looked down at Jiang Gujun who was moving flower pots outside, asking: "Why are you moving these?"
"Yi Yi can't smell the flowers," Jiang Gujun placed the flower pot at the designated spot, then stood up, dusted off his hands, and looked at him, "The child is still young, with fragile respiratory passages, so Mr. Su was worried about accidents and had me move them out."
Actually, these weren't ordinary flowers; they were herbs and perfume ingredients cultivated by Rong Zhi himself. He couldn't trust the servants to move them for fear they might get damaged, so he had to do it himself.
