Zhang Liang's Sister, the Diviner Duan Yu, Truly Skilled in Schemes!

Zhao Cheng was somewhat amazed by their comprehensiveness.

When he was farming in the wilderness, Zhao Cheng often lamented: in these ancient times, what was the point of living a long life?

Only now did he realize that the problem did not lie in the ancient era, but in one's status.

With such beautiful attendants who possessed both grace and mastery of various arts, even if those royals and nobles spent the entire year idling at home, they would never feel bored.

Morning came, and beauties were there to help him wash, organize his clothes, and dress him neatly.

Following that, others would serve delicacies in endless variety, standing by his side as a feast for the eyes to whet his appetite, followed by music and dance.

When bored, there were clever-minded ones to chat with; when working, there were red sleeves adding fragrance and acting as assistants.

There were even top-tier embroiderers to create all sorts of art for him, or to stitch such art onto his garments, sewing all manner of clothing for him to wear.

Zhao Cheng looked at these eight young girls and couldn't help but scratch his head.

Only today did he realize what a miserable life he had been living before.

Was the life of a noble always this spectacular?

Looking to the other side, the eight noblewomen of the former Han state clearly felt the pressure, their expressions varied.

Zhao Cheng recognized the two princesses, one older and one younger.

The older one was sixteen or seventeen, with willow-leaf brows and phoenix eyes, lashes like butterfly wings, sloping shoulders, a slender waist, and pale, delicate knuckles.

Her skin was as white as snow-satin, her cheeks flushed with a shy, uneasy crimson, and her brow bone and nose bridge held a nearly translucent luster,