So, when Shi Qingning spoke of the ten-mile bridal procession, it truly wasn't just an adjective; they were really going to give Ye Qingci a ten-mile bridal procession.
On the ride back, Jian Shichu wrapped his arms around Ye Qingci's neck, joking with her, "Now my wife is rich enough to rival countries, if one day I become destitute, I'd have to rely on my wife to support me."
"Sure," Ye Qingci thought of that drunken woman and couldn't help but chuckle, "Our Seventh Master Jian is handsome and striking, looking so charming, you'd be more than good enough to be a kept man."
"..." Jian Shichu pinched her earlobe, "Isn't it never-ending with you? Wasn't last night's lesson enough for you?"
Ye Qingci laughed and dodged, slapping his hands away, "Get off me, can't people even tell the truth? With our Seventh Master's looks, I don't know how many people would squander their fortunes just to keep you."
Jian Shichu gritted his teeth, "You're addicted to this, aren't you?"
