He lowered his head and saw a flash of red, the crimson garment catching his eye. This brilliant red attire was an ancient wedding dress.,Xiao Quan's brows furrowed. Clearly, being thrown next to horse manure was a stark contrast to the splendor of the red lanterns and candles, yet here it was.,Under the moon, a slender maiden hid behind a nearby tree of longing, hearing Xiao Quan's poem. Her heart stirred, drunk in the quiet beauty of its imagery.。