The news from Zhenzhou reached the Capital City half a month later.
Mid-spring, February, the willows were enchanting and the flowers soft.
On the corridor draped with hanging wisteria, footsteps sounded "thud, thud, thud, thud."
Tang Xiaobai, hearing this rhythm, immediately knew it was the eldest young lady coming.
Raising her head, she saw a graceful figure in emerald appear at the door of the Bright Moon Building.
The subtle attire couldn't hide the rich colors, and under the soft silk spring wear, curves rose and fell alluringly.
Tang Xiaobai held a brush between her fingers, propping up her chin with a smile, and asked, "Sister, why do you love wearing light-colored clothes lately?"
Tang Jiaojiao's face inexplicably turned red: "I'll wear what I want, why do you care?"
"I don't care, I don't care..." Tang Xiaobai shook her head, lowering her head to look and write again.
