Thinking of this, a trace of bitterness flashed across Jiang's pretty face.
Jiang Mengyue smiled slightly, took Jiang Ning's hand, and comforted her, "Don't worry, sister. It doesn't matter if you can't write poetry. Just go to the peach blossom forest in the back mountain and pick a peach blossom."
"Okay, let's get started."
The noble ladies stood in a circle, and the servants brought in a big drum and began to beat the drum vigorously.