The spring breeze caresses the thousands of willows, as the flower houses sing with throngs of wine guests.
The noble ladies and young misses of each household peer out from their residences and lofts, gazing tenderly at the handsome young man clad in white.
"I've long heard that Duke An is just in his early twenties, which I found hard to believe. After all, how could a Third-Grade Martial Artist be this age? But upon seeing him now, the rumors are indeed true."
"He would make a splendid son-in-law. My daughter Yan'er is only fourteen; if she can weave a beautiful story with Duke An, it would surely be a blessing from our ancestors."
"I've been a widow for five years, yet I've maintained myself well and am still in the prime of my life. If I could find love with Duke An, oh, it would be so embarrassing."
"Lady Qian, stop dreaming in broad daylight; you're nearly thirty. There's no way Duke An would fancy you."
