The banquet concluded, and each retired to their own rooms.
Within the wutong garden, Yang Mingcheng furrowed his brows, unable to comprehend why Yang Zhenshan was now letting him inherit the noble title.
Ms. Wang, however, was all smiles, incessantly muttering to herself, "I'm going to be a Marchioness?"
"Haha, I will be a Marchioness!"
"Hehe, Marchioness!"
Her round, full face was plastered with a silly grin, looking every bit like a fool.
"Alright, enough with your prattling!" Yang Mingcheng was getting annoyed by her chatter.
"My dear husband, aren't you happy? You are going to be a Marquis, and I will be your Marchioness!" Ms. Wang laughed with a hehe.
Think about it, a village woman like her had improved in status and position with the ascent of the Yang family, but since Yang Mingcheng had never held a military position, she did not even have an imperial command.
