My Wife Is A Sword Immortal-Chapter 684 - 421 Zhao Rong: Can we have dinner together tonight? (1)

Chapter 684: Chapter 421 Zhao Rong: Can we have dinner together tonight? (1)

In Yilan Pavilion, not far from the entrance, the atmosphere in the pavilion was somewhat peculiar.

Inside, there was a fox-eyed girl who loved to wear red, a blue-clothed girl with a tall attendant student’s hat, and a young Confucian scholar with an indifferent face.

The two girls, who had just met, both had their eyes wide open.

However, Su Xiaoxiao was pleasantly surprised, while Jingzi was frightened...

The blue-clothed girl’s body stiffened.

"Come on, tell me, what did you do to me?" Zhao Rong touched the back of her head from behind, curious in tone.

Your bloody hand is on my head, how do you expect me to say...

Jingzi’s mouth maintained the shape of one about to speak; she uttered a couple of hesitations before her lively eyes started darting around.

Struck by a sudden inspiration, she continued with an iron-clad determination,

"...I treat him... I treat Master Zhao... as... as a good friend, we have a special relationship!"

Zhao Rong first looked at Xiaoxiao, and seeing she was fine while waiting here, he then lowered his gaze toward the blue-clothed girl.

After pondering for a moment, he confirmed with a sincere smile, "Is that true?"

Jingzi nodded her head vigorously in secret.

But the hand on her head didn’t budge an inch.

She nodded like she was pounding garlic, "It’s true, it’s true, there might have been a little misunderstanding at the beginning, but after resolving it, didn’t we both forget about it? You accepted my apology already, you can’t renege on it and bully someone."

Zhao Rong looked at her with a smile but said nothing.

Damn, how did he get so strong... the blue-clothed girl secretly bit her lip in frustration.

She turned and earnestly said to Su Xiaoxiao,

"Little fox demon, let me tell you, Master Zhao is actually a really nice person, gentle and respectful, refined and cultured - who doesn’t know this? He is also the pillar of Mochi Academy, and perhaps he’ll be the next ’Reading Seed,’ well, the next one would be Fish Sister...

"Plus, which teacher wouldn’t give him a thumbs up when mentioning Master Zhao? My own teacher likes him a lot, of course, it’s definitely the kind of admiration and support a senior has for a junior, absolutely not the romantic love you imagine from those silly books. Little little fox demon, you must not think wildly, my teacher is well-mannered and always keeps proper boundaries."

The blue-clothed girl count off on her fingers, delivering a serious spiel of ’heartfelt words.’ She paused, thinking to herself that this should be enough.

Too bad she couldn’t see Zhao Rong’s expression when she turned her head.

Jingzi sighed, and with earnestness turned to the seriously-faced Su Xiaoxiao,

"Therefore, with Master Zhao being so outstanding... listen to your sister’s advice, you must seize the chance well!"

The atmosphere among the three in the pavilion quieted down for a moment.

Su Xiaoxiao, with slightly red eyes, silently looked at Jingzi, who had just made a dramatic change of attitude. She pursed her lips and turned to look at the sensible and knowledgeable female teacher in the flower garden in the distance.

Zhao Rong, upon hearing this, thought for a bit and nodded in agreement.

He let go of her hand and, without a hint of modesty, politely said, "Miss Jingzi, you are too honest, your words are quite embarrassing for someone to hear."

Jingzi jumped backward, escaping the ’clutches.’

She adjusted her flattened attendant student’s hat, feeling unable to save face, and with a stern face, she waved her hand to signal that someone had better know when to stop, humph.

"Hey, Master Zhao, didn’t you go down the mountain for an assessment? Why are you back so soon? What brings you to Yilan Pavilion today, and with a little little fox demon too?"

Jingzi felt that the nickname she coined for Su Xiaoxiao was extremely fitting and rolled off the tongue easily. Now, gazing at Zhao Rong with a hint of wariness, she said,

The young Confucian scholar, who had changed clothes thrice in one day, ignored her and walked over to Su Xiaoxiao.

The latter was turned away, not looking at him.

Out of the blue, Zhao Rong reached out to hold her right hand.

Su Xiaoxiao shrank her hand back, but she couldn’t resist the bad guy and was caught by him anyway.

She had just squatted on the ground, picking up twigs to help ’ants across the bridge,’ marking her hands with some dirt.

Zhao Rong, looking at her pudgy little hand, bowed his head, took the sleeve of his long robe, and carefully wiped her hand, then couldn’t resist rubbing it a bit.

Su Xiaoxiao, who had her head low till now, remained silent; she couldn’t help but roll her eyes up slightly to sneak a peek at the focused lover before her.

"You’re so grown up, yet still so childish," Zhao Rong tugged at the corner of his mouth, and shook his head lightly.

Su Xiaoxiao turned her head to look at Zhu Yourong again.

Zhao Rong, seeing this, released her hand and exited the pavilion, "Let’s go, I’ll take you to meet her."

Su Xiaoxiao didn’t budge, staying put and pulling on the hem of her garment.

Zhao Rong gently shook his head, "Alright, Xiaoxiao, you wait here for me; I have something to get and will be back soon... There’s something I need to discuss with you later."

After leaving her with those words, he walked towards the flower garden.

Su Xiaoxiao watched his retreating back only after he was well away.

The blue-clothed girl beside her noticed something amiss and moved closer, eyeing this newly acquainted friend and inquisitively asked, "What’s up with you two? Did the little couple have a fight...?"

In the distance, Zhao Rong entered the flower garden where Zhu Yourong was still intently focused on her calligraphy, seemingly unaware of anyone approaching.

This Teacher of Linlu Academy, still in her simple Confucian robe, was as majestic as a grand landscape. One hand tucking in her sleeve, the other holding a brush, her delicate brows lightly furrowed, she leaned over the table, bestowing ’weight’ on it that it was not designed to bear.

Zhao Rong was unfazed by this, as it wasn’t his first time here.

He approached her as if it was his own study, reaching for the clear water, inkstone, and inkstick, rolling up his sleeves, and began grinding ink with practiced hands.

Zhao Rong stood beside the woman in the Confucian robe, glancing at her exquisite calligraphy occasionally as he worked silently.

Zhu Yourong continued to write as if there was no one else around, yet at a certain moment, the corner of her lips hidden by her cascading hair, slightly curled upwards.

When Zhu Yourong straightened up to dip her brush in ink, Zhao Rong gently pushed the ink stone forward with two fingers, placing it conveniently beside her hand.

Every time she lifted her hand to change the brush, a new one that perfectly suited Zhu Yourong’s preference would be considerately provided.

Both their movements were quiet and in complete unison.

Without exchanging a single word or glance, their coordination was incredibly in sync.

It was as if they were communicating telepathically.

At this point, a certain woman in a Confucian robe had, in a sense, been abandoned by everyone, left with the glory faded away, standing utterly alone.

She looked around. No precedents to follow, no followers to come, even the closest disciple and attendant student followed without understanding her, leaving her to embark on a solitary journey in the dark night.

As for Zhu Yourong, this young Confucian Scholar, who quietly accompanied her in writing now, was the only true confidant who had come to stand beside her from among the countless passersby and commoners.

There was the joy of first acquaintance and the comfort of long-term companionship.

An inexplicable connection. freёwebnoѵel.com

An unspeakable delight.

In that moment, Zhu Yourong felt moved and with a flick of her wrist holding the brush, splashed ink onto a sheet of white paper.

The character’s form was slightly slender yet full of strength.

But as her brushstroke reached the halfway point, where it should have continued to flow freely like a dragon or snake, it suddenly stopped abruptly, her Jade Hand pausing in mid-air.

The woman in the Confucian robe gently furrowed her brows, seemingly dissatisfied with her writing, as if it lacked something.

The paper was left with just one line of not yet dry ink, an incomplete sentence:

If there’s one who appreciates the tune.

She slowly rose, holding the brush, and quietly stepped back.

Observing silently from the side, Zhao Rong suddenly stepped forward, took the brush from Zhu Yourong’s Jade Hand, and without hesitation, rolled up his sleeve to complete the writing.

With a confident stroke, he completed the half-finished line.

Zhu Yourong looked intently, seeing his handwriting on the paper, equally slender and strong, but unlike hers, it seemed to embody a robust backbone, akin to a frost-covered forest without leaves, a cascading waterfall in flight, a sight that brightened one’s eyes:

If there’s one who appreciates the tune, I’ll sing the songs of spring for all and sundry.

The woman in the Confucian robe stood prettily at the desk, one side smilingly appreciating the poem as she softly recited it, while also keenly analyzing the last six characters of his handwriting and brushwork.

The young Confucian Scholar as if nothing had happened, walked to one side, passing the brush on.

Zhu Yourong, with joy, took the brush, and with a hand, swept her hair from her mouth to behind her ears, and holding the brush, went to dip it in ink anew, uttering no words of thanks or praise, as they seemed to be so familiar with each other that their interaction was without the need for words.

It was then that Zhu Yourong briefly stopped writing and finally broke the silence.

"Have you finished all the business you needed to at the Academy?"

"Not yet," Zhao Rong shook his head.

"Didn’t you say you had important business to attend to this morning before you left, didn’t you go to see Meng Zhengjun? Wasn’t she at the Academy? I met her a few days ago."

The young Confucian Scholar thought for a moment, nodded, then shook his head:

"She’s there. I went to the Ritual Hall to find her before coming here... I came after finishing that matter," Zhao Rong paused, not elaborating on the matter he had attended to at the Study Ink Pool Hall midway, and instead said softly:

"However, aside from that public matter, there’s actually a... personal matter I have to attend to."

"Oh? What is it?"

"Zhengguan Well Water. Do you still have some here? I need to fetch more... it’s for a certain use," the person got straight to the point.

"I do," the woman in the Confucian robe nodded, continuing her movements, and said evenly, "I know you always need it, I’ve already prepared the equivalent of three cups."

"Okay," he paused in his speech, "Thanks."

"Don’t mention it."

She shook her head lightly, put down the brush, took three bamboo tubes, and handed them to Zhao Rong, who carefully accepted and packed them away properly.

"That well water... is it very important to you?"

Zhao Rong was silent for a moment, "Yes."

"I see," Zhu Yourong’s lips curved slightly, changing the subject without further inquiry.

Tappping his sleeve, Zhao Rong let out a breath, relieved that both his public and private matters at the Academy were finally settled, and thankfully, he had narrowly survived a dangerous ordeal, making this visit almost reach Great Perfection.

With these thoughts, the man at the flower garden desk couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to Great Li, especially the events that had unfolded in Hanjing a few days earlier, which hastened his overnight return yesterday...

Zhao Rong was weighed down by his thoughts, ready to take his leave, and just as he was about to step away, Zhu Yourong suddenly spoke:

"Is she a Fox Demon?"

Zhao Rong paused, then nodded.

The woman in the Confucian robe fell silent for a while, skillfully hanging the brush back on the rack, tidied the desk scattered with orchid petals, and then said:

"She’s very fond of you."

Zhao Rong smiled, glanced at the little Fox Demon who was intently watching them from afar, and stopped his departure.

"How can you tell?"

Zhu Yourong lowered her eyelids, seemingly gazing at the line on the desk ’If there’s one who appreciates the tune, I’ll sing the songs of spring for all and sundry,’ then she spoke softly...

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