Spring in Bianjing always arrived with exceptional gentleness; willow catkins drifted like snow, and the sweet fragrance of peach blossom wine floated through Rouge Alley. Song Mingche held Su Wantang's hand as they strolled along the bluestone pavement, the silver bells at her wrist chiming softly with each step, startling a few white pigeons beneath the eaves. Passersby turned their heads to look, and someone whispered in admiration, "Look at that couple from the Song family; they truly are a match made in heaven."
Su Wantang's cheeks flushed crimson as she gently pulled her hand away from her husband's. "In broad daylight, aren't you afraid people will laugh at us?"
Song Mingche laughed heartily, tucking a strand of hair blown loose by the wind behind her ear. "You are my own wife; what does it matter what others say?"
Chapter 212