The emerald canopy fell. Minister Yang, just forty, was still as vigorous as a tiger crossing a mountain—his touch light and practiced, his movements steady.
Though not as fierce as in his early twenties, he was still strong and powerful, embracing her with the utmost tenderness.
Under the canopy, Madam Yang, charming and delicate, seemed to cry and laugh at once, sobbing for a good half Shi Chen.
Ultimately, she could bear it no longer and could only arch her body to endure his passionate advances.
The maids stood in the corridor with hot water prepared, ready to attend to them.
They waited until their faces flushed, but still, no call for water came from within.
In small groups, they whispered amongst themselves.
"The master and madam truly share a deep affection!"
"Isn't that so? These are the benefits of an older husband and a younger wife. In the future, I also want to marry a husband older than myself!"
