Tang Li spoke up, a hint of probing in her voice, turning to the man beside her: "If I wanted those antiques, would you agree to give them to me?"
Song Baiyan leaned back against the bench, his large hand covering her left hand resting at the edge of the seat: "I can't give you exactly the same ones, but there are substitutes of equivalent value."
"You might as well just say you can't give them to me."
Tang Li hit the nail on the head.
"So, Your Excellency isn't omnipotent after all." Her words sounded like a jest, yet carried a hint of provocation.
Song Baiyan laughed.
At this moment, Tang Li was slightly impudent, her carefree appearance captured in Song Baiyan's gaze, not feeling offended but rather wanting to indulge her in this mood even more.
This was an age meant to be bold and unrestrained.
With fewer entanglements and less calculation, one could live with the comfort they deserved.
