"Young man, how old are you this year? Are you married?" An older woman standing behind Zhao Yao developed an unusual interest when she saw his handsome appearance.
Even though Zhao Yao was wearing coarse cloth and had deliberately smudged his face with dirt, his distinguished features and unmistakable aura of nobility attracted the attention of many ladies.
"I'm seventeen this year and not yet married."
Upon hearing that he wasn't married, the older woman's eyes lit up with excitement.
"Oh, young man, let me tell you, my daughter is the same age as you and also not married. I'm not exaggerating; my daughter is very pretty and would be a perfect match for you…"
She was interrupted by another woman: "Young man, don't listen to her nonsense. Her daughter isn't pretty at all. She's so dark and short! My daughter, on the other hand, is beautiful..."
"Young man, neither of their daughters are good-looking. My daughter is the pretty one..."
