...
Alright then!
The little maid Qiao'er felt rather helpless, but as the mistress dictated, so she followed.
She pondered, how could she deliver this poem to the new groom amidst such a large crowd?
Meanwhile, in the courtyard.
Wang Shouzhe took time to sit leisurely on a stone bench and began to contemplate.
Honestly, Yuanrui's poem had placed a great deal of pressure on him.
As a transmigrator filled with ancient poetry and prose, he could choose any renowned piece at random and it would defeat Liu Yuanrui's.
Nevertheless, this was his own wedding, and he wanted to write a poem himself, no matter how imperfect it might be, it was still his. The idea of using plagiarized poems to deceive his wife just didn't sit well with him.
Liu Yuanrui and others didn't push him, they watched their brother-in-law bemused as he wrestled with his thoughts. They knew that composing a poem wasn't easy, especially a good one.
At this moment.
