After the evening meal, Empress Dowager Wang and Song Ci each sat at one end of the Arhat bed, holding tea, and chatting.
"Ah Ci, do you think I've been too harsh on that Madam of Mingyang Uncle's Mansion?"
Song Ci swallowed a sip of tea and said, "What are you saying? What's harsh about it? You are the Empress Dowager of the current dynasty, aren't you? If you don't like someone and want to lecture them, do you have to pick a day and see whose face to watch first?"
The Empress Dowager, the most noble woman under the heavens, the one most qualified to throw a tantrum, isn't she?
Empress Dowager Wang laughed heartily, "You're right. I just find them displeasing to the eye. They don't even seem like proper young ladies, yet they parade in front of me, hoping to catch my favor for a bright future? They're deluding themselves."
Song Ci: "Well, you can't blame them for having ambition. There's a saying, 'Try hard and an ox cart becomes a carriage,' maybe they'll succeed by chance?"
