Now I really have to marry the princess.

Yang Zhengdao thought to himself, no wonder the original owner was so infatuated. Just looking at that back view was enough to make one's heart flutter.

Hearing someone open the door, Yingluo suddenly turned around, revealing a delicate face that looked like that of a fourteen or fifteen-year-old.

With delicate eyebrows, fox-like eyes, and a graceful nose, she possessed a youthful charm that, despite her innocence, was alluring.

Upon seeing that it was Yang Zhengdao, she was first delighted, then frowned, and finally, with tears in her eyes, she bowed, her voice full of grievance: "Young Master Yang, you finally remembered me."

That's not actually the case.

But she's so good at it...

It's so hard to bear telling the truth.

Although college students have also been in relationships, they are clearly not as professional as Sakura-chan.

Yingluo straightened her clothes and rose, leading Yang Zhengdao into the room and helping him to sit down on the mat.

She took the warm honey water from the stove and said softly, "Yang Lang, have a cup of honey water and rest for a while."

Then she bent down to pick up the tea caddy next to the table. At the moment she bent down, the taut collar of her clothes perfectly outlined the full shape of her chest.

She clearly noticed Yang Zhengdao's glance.

Perhaps Sister Rumeng is right; after not seeing him for many days, this man's gaze becomes vacant.

Yang Lang's eyes were quite frightening, so urgent, as if he were both hungry and thirsty.

Sakura secretly rejoiced, but her eyes revealed only shyness.

Yang Zhengdao felt his throat go dry.

He picked up the honey water, took a sip, and sighed inwardly, "She really is a little devil; her tea ceremony is truly remarkable."

He even suspected that the little vixen's act of turning her back to the door and fiddling with the incense burner the moment she entered the room was intentional.

After all, that pose reminded the college student of the scene where an actress gets stuck in a washing machine.

Yingluo took the tea caddy, gently placed the tea leaves into the plain white porcelain cup, then poured water from the teapot. The tender green tea leaves rose and fell, slowly unfurling, and the fresh tea aroma instantly spread.

Excellent, excellent!

It seems the new tea project is progressing quite smoothly.

Providing new tea free of charge to Pingkangfang Nanqu was also part of Yang Zhengdao's promotional plan.

Especially the leading figures in Southern Opera, who are practically celebrities promoting products.

Yingluo knelt on one knee before the table and presented the teacup to Yang Zhengdao with both hands.

"Young Master Yang, please have some tea."

As she spoke, she leaned forward further, and through the rising steam from the teacup, she first looked up and gazed at it, then lowered her eyes shyly.

After Yang Zhengdao took the teacup, Yingluo sat down close to him, knee to knee.

Her eyes sparkled, and her voice was soft as cotton: "I was unable to witness Yang Lang's splendor in the front hall, but I have heard of it here, and I am already very happy."

Before Yang Zhengdao could speak, she sighed softly and smiled faintly, a smile that clearly contained a hint of melancholy.

"It's all my fault for being so stupid and dull. If it weren't for Sister Rumeng, I would never have known that Yang Lang was so talented and romantic."

Is this considered stupid and dull?!

I can tell you're incredibly cunning and clever.

Yang Zhengdao's lips curled up slightly. He knew Yingluo's little secret: she just wanted a poem but didn't say it directly.

College students are naive, but not completely clueless; naturally, they won't expose you.

Besides, who could resist such a shy, timid, and tea-loving little fox?

He originally planned to give the poem "Song of Everlasting Regret" to Yingluo, and use the bet between Du and Fang as a gift for her before the hot spring bathhouse opened.

After taking a sip of tea, Yang Zhengdao patted Yingluo's small hand and said, "Go and prepare the brush and ink."

"Ah!" Yingluo was overjoyed and quickly stood up. "Yes, my lord!"

Even as she stood up, Yingluo swayed her hips gently, her eyes filled with affection.

She truly embodies a captivating charm in every gesture and smile.

Yang Zhengdao couldn't help himself and slapped her across the face. Yingluo immediately let out a reproachful cry of surprise.

It's very soft to the touch and has a bouncy feel. Great! Great!

Yingluo felt her face burning; she never imagined that Yang Lang would be so frivolous and dissolute after not seeing him for several weeks.

She couldn't help but recall the whispers her sister Rumeng had told her, about that man... that one...

Yingluo felt her face burning up. She fled the elegant room as if escaping to summon a maid to bring her writing brush and ink.

Before long, the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone were all prepared.

Yingluo prepared the ink and presented the wolf-hair brush. Then, she nestled gently beside her from a distance, her eyes brimming with autumn water, gazing intently with unwavering anticipation.

Yang Zhengdao felt that the ancients were right; the phrase "a beautiful woman adding fragrance to one's sleeves" was indeed very beautiful.

He flicked his wrist, and the ink fell onto the paper.

Yingluo was first surprised, then delighted: "Young Master Yang, this new calligraphy style is indeed vigorous and elegant, with outstanding character."

The emotional value it provides is substantial.

Yang Zhengdao continued to write, and line after line of poetry appeared on the paper.

Yingluo had only heard that Yang Zhengdao had shone brightly in the front hall, but had not yet seen the first few lines of the poem.

Seeing it now, she couldn't help but hold her breath, and her gaze towards Yang Zhengdao was filled with admiration.

But Yang Zhengdao did not stop; his brush moved swiftly and he continued to write.

The entire poem "Song of Everlasting Regret" consists of 840 characters and 120 lines. Even if three lines are updated every day, and one line is left as a bet, it would be enough to give Du He and Fang Yi'ai a headache for a month.

If the bathhouse is not ready by then, Yang Zhengdao can still produce the 1,666-character "Qin Fu Yin" (The Ballad of the Qin Woman), simply changing the story to the end of the Han Dynasty.

As Yang Zhengdao finished writing a page, Yingluo was amazed; she had never imagined it would be such a magnificent long poem.

But as the story told in the poem unfolds, Yingluo becomes completely absorbed in it, losing herself in the moment.

Yang Zhengdao wrote: "Slow songs and gentle dances accompanied by the sounds of silk and bamboo instruments; the emperor could not get enough of watching them all day long."

The falling cherry blossoms are dazzling and mesmerizing, leaving me completely captivated.

When Yang Zhengdao wrote: "The six armies refused to advance, leaving no other choice but to let the beautiful woman die before the horse."

Yingluo was already infatuated.

Yang Zhengdao then wrote: "Returning, the ponds and gardens are all as before, the lotus flowers of Taiye and the willows of Weiyang Palace remain."

Cherry blossoms fell, leaving her heartbroken and her eyes slightly red.

Yang Zhengdao then wrote: "With tender gaze I bid farewell to the Emperor, our voices and appearances now lost to each other."

Cherry blossoms fell, and tears streamed down her face.

Finally, with the line "Heaven and earth may pass away, but this sorrow will last forever," Yang Zhengdao put down his pen.

Yingluo stared blankly at the poems and essays on the paper. When she looked up again, her eyes were misty with admiration that was about to overflow and deep affection that could not be dissolved for a long time.

After a long pause, she parted her lips slightly, gently grasped Yang Zhengdao's arm, and pulled him into her embrace, pressing him against her chest.

It seemed he had a thousand words to say, but in the end he only uttered, "Yang Lang..."

Yang Zhengdao felt a soft, warm sensation, as if his arm had touched two ripe pumpkins.

No wonder Du Mu could get things for free, and Yuan Zhen could be taken advantage of.

At this moment, this tea-loving lady, whose tea skills were superb, was even more enthusiastic than Nazha and bolder than A-Wu.

Yang Zhengdao's Adam's apple bobbed as he pulled Ying back to sit on the couch.

Seeing the cherry blossoms in their budding state, he couldn't resist and leaned down to give them a gentle peck.

Yingluo stiffened slightly, but did not flinch. She closed her eyes tightly, raised her small face, and responded awkwardly.