A mu of bamboo grove, three mu of peach blossoms.
A small bridge, a few fences.
This was Zhang Yang's secluded residence, but it was by no means that aloof or elegant. After all, he had never been able to appreciate such things.
But sometimes, one had to admit that following the proper procedure was something a woman absolutely could not get around.
After taking Qu Shang as his concubine, this was the place she had specifically demanded to live in.
"I absolutely wasn't trying to compete over whose place was better. I just couldn't bear to see such a fine house sitting empty. With someone living here, it's rustic charm; without anyone, it turns into a haunted house."
Qu Shang's words were grand and righteous.
Zhang Yang burst out laughing. Looking at Qu Shang, who was already dressed with exceptional delicacy, he said, "On our wedding day, I can make an exception and let you ask three questions. No restrictions—ask whatever you like. As long as I know the answer, I'll definitely tell you."
"A gentleman's word?" Qu Shang asked, somewhat puzzled.
"I have a nickname. They call me Gentleman Yang. Go on, ask. Otherwise, I'll always feel like you can't settle your mind." Zhang Yang laughed heartily. Today—no, he had always been optimistic and ambitious, sunny and handsome, upright and imposing, open and aboveboard, and disdainful of underhanded tricks.
Qu Shang studied Zhang Yang seriously for a while before saying, "All right. First question: I want to know whether you turned Heavenly Dao Junior Mistress into ash and scattered her bones."
"Pfft! What?"
Zhang Yang nearly bit off his tongue. He almost thought his ears had turned into noses. What kind of bizarre question was this? Damn it, this was ruining the sterling reputation of Gentleman Yang, Righteous