At the gallery.
Cheng Guang watched with interest the spot where Bai Shuxuan was located, equally curious about which individuals she would choose to pass the examination.
If she wished to make the Princely Heir her lapdog, there would certainly be some action required to highlight her status.
Telling the Princely Heir that although she was an Oiran, a brothel woman, she was not just any brothel woman—not a being you could easily obtain.
Perhaps it was precisely because Bai Shuxuan, through a series of maneuvers, elevated her own status and position in the Princely Heir's heart to a height that should not belong to her, that without even having touched her hand, he had become a loyal lapdog to her.
Cheng Guang's thoughts churned as Qiao Songshan next to him, hands sweaty with nervousness, stared into the distance, murmuring under his breath.
"No telling if that Turtle Slave's poetry was of any use."