Fang Che's journey was in the month of June, with lush greenery everywhere. The mountains and rivers were full of life.
The three of them didn't move quickly. The horse galloped for a while, then trotted along the way, enjoying the scenery, feeling the different charms of the thousand mountains and waterways.
The beauty was beyond words.
Finally, after a while, Ye Meng forcibly struggled out of Fang Che's embrace and rode on her horse to catch up.
She was indescribably heroic and graceful.
Yang Luoyu smiled as he watched Ye Meng, elegant and fairy-like on horseback, and said to Fang Che, "Fang Che, you've picked a nice little wife."
"It's barely acceptable, just average."
Fang Che modestly replied, "She's not particularly beautiful, just of ordinary standard, but still pleasing to the eye. Sorry to make Senior Yang laugh."
This act was so contrived that Yang Luoyu didn't even want to speak.
