In the tranquil bamboo grove, there sat a stone table, with a person sitting beside it.
The wind of the late night blew gently, lifting the fabric of the person's clothes, with tea smoke curling atop the table, and the person beside exuded elegance and melancholy.
In the bamboo forest, the rustling of leaves echoed, and a fallen leaf landed on a cup. Zhu Xiang brushed away the leaf and took a gentle sip of the deeply fragrant and refreshing tea.
"Miss Ye, please get out of the car."
The car door opened, and the driver gestured invitingly.
"Isn't this my place? What does your master mean by this, thinking they can come to my turf and get a beating? I will indulge him," said Ye Xiao as she stepped out of the car, seeing the lake and bamboo grove—land left to her by the old lady, now made into a fish farm.