Jiang Youzhi gazed at Yun Jiao and softly recited a poem about a wedding fan. Yun Jiao's cheeks turned crimson and she removed the round fan from her face.
The room suddenly fell silent, and all the young ladies and wives held their breath.
Beautiful, so beautiful, it was the kind of stunning beauty that captivated the soul.
Jiang Youzhi was also entranced as he watched Yun Jiao.
Two blushes flew across her cheeks, the flawless red and white was more delicate than peach blossoms. She lowered her eyes, her thick lashes gently trembling, her usually pale pink lips were now a tempting red, like cherries enticing to be picked.
Jiang Youzhi's eyes were glued to her face, unable to look away.
As everyone was dazed by the scene, suddenly a childish voice rang out, "Mom, I want this pretty bride."
This comment made everyone in the room laugh.
