Yueyao sat under the Bodhi Tree, the Bodhi Tree was growing well, already two people tall, in two or three years, it would be possible to enjoy the cool under the Bodhi Tree in summer.
Xi Juan was holding a palace fan woven with ivory silk threads depicting chrysanthemums and butterflies, fanning Yueyao beside her, and the long tassels under the palace fan were dancing with Xi Juan's fanning.
Every day, Yueyao would spend time with her daughter, write, paint, and occasionally chat with her friends. This was Yueyao's life now, leisurely and comfortable.
When Xiang Wei returned, she saw Yueyao's relaxed demeanor: "Young lady, this little life of yours makes me envious!" The shop had now gotten on the right track, and Xiang Wei no longer needed to be there all the time, often coming back early.
Yueyao chuckled lightly: "What are you envious of? No one forces you to be this busy every day." Yueyao felt that living well or not entirely depended on oneself.
