"Mother Consort," Nan Cong immediately bowed his head in a salute.
His tone was also very distant, not to mention enthusiastic, it was barely maintaining a superficial respect.
After all, since he was very small he knew that his mother had given birth to him only to vie for favor.
But what a pity, with the existence of the Empress, no matter how many princes his mother gave birth to, his father would not spare her a glance.
When Nan Cong felt pity for his mother's plight, there was also a sense of vindictive satisfaction.
He always thought that it was his mother's lack of ability that couldn't capture his father's heart.
How could it be that the Empress, even in death, could make his father constantly pining for her?
But his mother...
Heh, all she had was her skin, without a trace of ability.
If she could have captured his father's heart back then, he would be the one residing in the Eastern Palace today.
