"Tell me, in the dead of night, were you planning to 'steal fragrance and jade', and you ended up in Tang Buqi's room?"
In Tang Wanzhuang's courtyard, Tang Wanzhuang was elegantly making tea, the fragrance of the tea gently wafting through the air, mingling with moonlight and dispersing into the void.
At this moment, how could Zhao Changhe look anything like someone who'd rather be drinking than sipping tea? He sat there elegantly, almost as if he was about to nod his head and recite a poem.
If Tang Buqi saw Zhao Changhe's pretentious attitude, his expression might just turn into a sweating emoji.
Yet despite her seemingly graceful tea-making, the words that came from Tang Wanzhuang's mouth were far from graceful, making Zhao Changhe break into a sweat, "Wha—what do you mean 'steal fragrance and jade'? I just came to have a talk with Tang Buqi..."
