My Wife Is A Sword Immortal
Chapter 227 - 186: One Look at You, and I’m Drunk

Chapter 227: Chapter 186: One Look at You, and I’m Drunk

Zhao Rong was led back to his seat by Zhao Lingfei in a daze.

He was somewhat at a loss for a moment.

Sitting on a kneeling mat that Zhao Lingfei had carefully wiped clean, Zhao Rong gradually recovered his wits.

His eyes fixed directly on Qing Jun beside him, he licked his dry lips.

Zhao Rong’s right hand could still feel the cold touch of her jade hand—yet her hand, drenched in cold sweat, clasped his tightly, as if afraid he would walk away with another woman...

So, did I misunderstand her intentions just now... She wasn’t signaling me to leave with a serving of tea?

But what about Qing Jun’s current reaction? Like a startled little deer, she was panicked and confused. Had she also misunderstood something...

At this moment, the desk by the stream, off to one side, was the center of attention for the elegant gathering, yet the man and woman behind it paid no mind to the outside world. They were both carefully guessing the other’s thoughts and feelings, unconcerned with anyone else, and caring only about one another.

Every shift of joy and anger in her beloved affected her deeply.

Zhao Rong looked intently at the woman before him.

She had styled her hair in a bun for him, a style she never showcased in public.

She was now in a moon-white chest-high blouse and skirt, also dressed for his eyes.

Her lovely face was evenly flushed, and her brows finely drawn—she must have painstakingly gotten ready with him in mind before leaving the house.

But now, with Qian’er still absent, Zhao Rong had heard her mention in casual conversation that Qing Jun was not so skilled in makeup. Rather than a makeup brush, she was more familiar with a sword hilt in her hand.

So, did this foolish lady sit in front of the dressing table by herself this morning, clumsily drawing her brows over and over? He didn’t know whether she was smiling or annoyed at her reflection in the mirror—maybe both. When she thought of him, a smile blossomed, and when the brush strayed while she was distracted, she bit her lip in vexation. Yet thinking of their imminent meeting would have made her smile again...

A tender compassion arose in Zhao Rong’s heart, and he took a deep breath, his brow slightly furrowed.

He wanted to embrace Qing Jun immediately, but he had to consider her feelings. This was a lesson Zhao Rong had learned from several previous experiences. He could no longer "bully" her excessively in public like he had at the Four Seasons Hall—Qing Jun was not a woman from his past life. No matter how much she accommodated him, she was inherently decorous and couldn’t accept excessive behavior when in the company of others, unless they were alone, like the time she actively wiped his sweat on that rainy night...

Therefore, Zhao Rong was also intent on respecting Qing Jun.

Zhao Lingfei faced Zhao Rong, bowed her head, and closed her eyes, her hands holding the tea cup level with her eyebrows, respectfully presenting the tea to Zhao Rong.

But someone was momentarily lost in thought and didn’t reach out to take it right away.

Zhao Lingfei, looking demure, waited a moment and, sensing that Zhao Rong still hadn’t moved, her lips pressed together tightly, and the tender red of her lips gradually lost color.

In her hands was a cup of piping hot tea. The water’s surface, once smooth as a mirror, now rippled. It should be noted that these hands holding the tea had thousands of times steadily gripped a sword a hundred times heavier than the cup...

Anxiety grew in Zhao Lingfei’s heart. In a brief moment of courage, she raised her eyes warily to gauge her husband’s expression and collided with Zhao Rong’s direct gaze. She noticed his noble brows drawing together.

Zhao Lingfei’s eyelashes trembled, and even her usually crisp and clear voice was affected, quivering as she spoke in a small and weak voice, "Will you—will you have some tea? I’ve practiced for a long time, wanting to prepare it for you. Don’t be angry, okay? Please, try a little. If it isn’t good, you don’t have to drink... Wait, it’s a bit hot. I’ll blow on it... Phew... Phew... Rong’er brother, please don’t be angry. I won’t be willful anymore. Don’t let your anger affect your health because of me, I really won’t dare again, truly..."

Her voice grew weaker and weaker until at last, she was chastising and lamenting to herself.

Zhao Lingfei tilted her head slightly, her gaze through the steam rising from the tea hopeful as she intently watched Zhao Rong.

Zhao Rong, who was lost in thought, saw in Qing Jun the very same look from her childhood, which shook his heart. Every time she accidentally made him angry back then, she had this same pitiable look.

However, Zhao Rong didn’t have time to dwell on those memories. He straightened his body, his brows knit with concern, and quickly explained, "No, I’m not angry. You’re overthinking it, Qing Jun. I don’t even have time to be tender to you, let alone be willing to get angry at you."

Having said this and seeing Zhao Lingfei’s hands still respectfully extending the tea, yet now with a sudden beautiful smile, Zhao Rong quickly straightened his clothes, knelt down, raised his hands with a solemn expression, and received the tea from his wife’s hands—a cup with profound significance.

He moved meticulously.

This was the first time Qing Jun had offered him tea as his wife.

It was also a dining etiquette between husband and wife called raising the case side by side, where both parties must be respectful and proper, not one subjugated to the other.

The ceremony between them was complete.

After hearing Zhao Rong’s explanation, Zhao Lingfei was overjoyed. Her eyes widened with laughter, and her clear eyes gleamed as they watched him finish the tea in one gulp. This wasn’t in accordance with the tea ceremony Zhao Lingfei had learned, but it contained the sentiment she most looked forward to, and thus surpassed all formal etiquette.

After Zhao Rong downed his tea, Zhao Lingfei, with a light smile, took back the empty cup and picked up the teapot to pour more tea. She squinted at the cup, gazing quietly for a while before softly asking, "Rong’er brother, you’re not angry, but why did you walk away just now? Why didn’t you sit with me...?"

Zhao Rong helplessly gave a rough explanation, and Zhao Lingfei laughed, sharing her thoughts at the time.

After speaking, they exchanged a smile.

Zhao Rong inwardly sighed, feeling somewhat thankful for this small misunderstanding, which had nearly returned things to how they were between him and Qing Jun. Well, now all that was missing was that piece of ink jade. He wondered if he should ask her for it now—whether Qing Jun would give it to him...

Zhao Rong, watching his wife who was focused on pouring tea for him, couldn’t help but reach out and once again took hold of one of her bare hands.

Zhao Rong’s fingers slightly spread and slid into Lingfei’s palm, their fingers interlaced. He cradled her small hands in his, bowing his head to gaze at them intently, caressing them slowly, feeling as though he was holding a piece of mutton-fat Beautiful Jade.

Her hands were like tender shoots, and upon closer inspection, Zhao Rong found them delicate and snow-white. He squeezed gently, feeling their soft flexibility. As he stroked them again, they were smooth like creamy jelly,

However, this piece of soft jade that stirred Zhao Rong’s heart was not flawless white jade; it was not perfect.

He frowned slightly, his fingertips grazing over the calluses in Qing Jun’s palm, feeling a twinge of heartache.

Lingfei set down the teapot and bowed her head lightly, letting Zhao Rong grasp her hand without looking at him. Her voice carried a hint of shyness, "Stop teasing for now, I still have to make tea. Husband... are you not thirsty? Wait, wait a moment before touching..."

The last two sentences were so quiet that Zhao Rong almost doubted whether she had spoken at all...

His smile was warm and gentle, "I’m not thirsty anymore, Qing Jun. Just one glance at you, and I’m intoxicated."

The woman in the ruqun with a teardrop mole beneath her eye paused in her actions. She hung her head low, her ears blushing red, her voice trembling, "Me too."

Their fingers were tightly interlocked.

All these movements in the corner of the literary gathering were captured by the eyes of everyone present.

Beginning from just moments ago until now, the unabashed actions of Zhao Rong and Lingfei had captivated the unwavering stares of the crowd, echoing "kaleidoscopically" diverse expressions in the depths of their eyes.

Shock, realization, astonishment, incredulity...

And some news that was once snubbed by many Residence Students as boring rumors was gradually being solidified by the intimate gestures of the two behind the desk as something called fact.

Ye Ruoxi and Li Jinsu stood together, but had not looked at each other since not long ago, both stretching their necks, eyes glued on their respective junior sister and junior brother.

There was a long silence between them.

At one moment, Ye Ruoxi couldn’t help but speak without turning her head, "Is... is this Zhao gentleman really your junior brother? Why have you not mentioned this before..."

Her eyes were still fixed on the other side, scrutinizing Zhao Rong up and down, while the image of Lingfei sister, who Ye Ruoxi always remembered as aloof and solitary, carefully pursing her lips to blow on Zhao Rong’s tea, was still flashing through her mind - a scene she’d likely not forget for a very long time.

Upon hearing this, Li Jinsu, also with a fixed gaze, was stunned for a while before he sighed and shook his head,

"I didn’t know about this either. I have been busy at the teacher’s, and had little contact with the junior brothers. I only see the junior brother during classes at the Four Seasons Hall, and he never mentioned he was married... Ah, but I do know that he often accompanies Fan junior brother to Nanci Mansion. I was planning to talk to them about it, but unexpectedly... sigh, the junior brother’s wife turns out to be this Fairy Zhao."

Ye Ruoxi likewise sighed softly, shaking her head with him.

She exhaled, then suddenly, it seemed as if she remembered something.

Ye Ruoxi turned her head stealthily towards a certain direction where there was a man she had originally promised to help "matchmake."

At that moment, Ji Qianyi was expressionless.

From when Zhao Rong began walking towards Lingfei, he had realized Zhao Rong’s identity as the common son-in-law he had mentioned, but Ji Qianyi had not been worried back then, instead watching with a smile and had even arranged in his mind what he would say to Lingfei after the son-in-law left in disgrace.

However, as he witnessed Lingfei suddenly rise, her face pale and her steps hurried as she ran to block the way and took the initiative to hold the hand of that common son-in-law,

Slowly, ever so slowly,

the smile on Ji Qianyi’s face froze, and in an instant, it disappeared, leaving him with an expressionless face until now.

In his eyes at this moment was the reflection of the tightly clasped hands, and the woman he had always seen as a fellow seeker of the Great Dao was now looking down in embarrassment, no longer holding a sword in her hand, but holding his.

Not far away, Yun Zi saw this scene and shook his head in silence...

Liu Kongyi did not expect such a reversal of events.

She squinted at the couple across from her, who were equally matched, toying with the elongated dragon whiskers of the Dragon Carp next to her.

Her gaze curiously examined Lingfei; at this moment, this Tranquility Mansion Sword Immortal Seed who was always the center of attention from the Residence Students had revealed a side Liu Kongyi had never imagined.

And the root cause of it all...

She shifted her gaze, now with keen interest observing Zhao Rong, dressed in Academy student attire.

Elsewhere, Du Yifu diverted his attention from the center of everyone’s focus, his eyes still bearing a trace of incredulity.

He turned to look for Li Jinsu, but his peripheral vision caught sight of Liu Kongyi, whom he had always been observing, and saw her peculiar expression as she looked at Zhao Rong.

Startled, Du Yifu followed Liu Kongyi’s gaze towards Zhao Rong, his expression becoming uncertain.

Shortly thereafter,

the literary gathering, which had fallen silent due to an unexpected event, gradually became lively again, with sounds rising and the bustle recommencing.