In those days, Su Qingyue left all the worries of her marriage to Xiao Yuchuan.
The rituals for getting married were complicated for ancient people, including betrothal, inquiry of the name, auspicious gifts, official engagement, choosing the date…
Xiao Yuchuan had done everything thoroughly.
Even with the matchmaker, he found one from the village, matchmaker Zhao, to serve as the witness. Of course, this matchmaker Zhao was different from the Wang Meipo who had been sent away days before.
Su Qingyue glanced at Xiao Qinghe's kitchen once, then continued to research medicine in her own pharmacy.
Qinghe came out of the kitchen and wheeled his chair to the door of the pharmacy, knocking on it.
"Come in, the door isn't latched." Su Qingyue's voice came from inside the pharmacy.
Xiao Qinghe pushed the door and entered, watching Qingyue busily mixing medicines at the long rectangular workbench while he called out in his clear and elegant voice, "Wife..."
