My Wife Is A Sword Immortal
Chapter 243 - 198: Childhood Sweethearts

Chapter 243: Chapter 198: Childhood Sweethearts

Zhao Rong led Qing Jun through a bamboo forest and into the deep mountain woods, his steps unceasing.

The two walked in silence, one after the other.

Where he went, she followed.

Zhao Rong took Qing Jun to the peak of the mountain and then down the bamboo-covered hills.

They crossed the warm stream, climbed the Tai rocks, passed the empty valley, with the sun’s fragmented light leaking through gaps in the foliage, their footsteps echoing on the moss-covered stone slabs along the winding path, resonating in the serene valley.

Zhao Rong and Lingfei headed towards the secluded depths of the warm stream’s Bamboo Garden.

At a certain moment, they came upon a cliff break where stream water plunged down, forming multi-tiered white cascades on the stepped cliffs, which, under the sunlight, looked like a pristine ribbon.

The water droplets splashed under the dotted sunlight, clear and sparkling, playing a symphony of natural music.

Mist hovered around the streambank, warm as a hot spring, hazy and dreamlike, making one feel as though stepping into the Immortal Realm.

Lingfei suddenly tugged on Zhao Rong’s hand.

They halted, and the latter turned around.

Lingfei suddenly let go of Zhao Rong’s hand, lowered her head, lightly lifted her skirt with both hands, and without a word, took quick, small steps to a tree by the streambank.

Zhao Rong, curious, soon saw Qing Jun reach up, stand on tiptoe, one hand lifting her skirt, the other raised high, and shortly after, she returned with a handful of green fruit.

Zhao Rong glanced at them and was momentarily transfixed—the mist spreading along the warm stream indicated eternal spring; what Qing Jun had picked were ripe green plums.

Lingfei looked up at Zhao Rong briefly, then held the green plums in her hands and went to the streambank, dipping the plums into the clear water and washing them with focused attention.

Zhao Rong, with a white jade in hand, approached her side and crouched down, his head leaning in, eyes unwaveringly fixed on Qing Jun’s profile.

Lingfei gently bit her lip, tilting her crouched body slightly to avoid Zhao Rong’s "annoying" gaze, and continued rolling up her sleeves, intently washing the plums.

Crouched down, Zhao Rong walked forward a couple of steps on his knees, again closing in beside her, his body lightly nudging her.

Just like a little pup begging for attention.

Lingfei’s eyelashes quivered, and although she didn’t turn to look at Zhao Rong, she stopped avoiding him.

She subtly shifted her weight, leaning against him.

Zhao Rong, smiling happily, continued to stare intently at Lingfei’s profile, feeling he could never tire of her earnest expression.

Suddenly, he raised his hand, hooking a playful strand of black hair from her forehead to tuck behind her ear.

However, during the act, whether intentionally or not, his fingertips lightly grazed Lingfei’s cheek.

The touch was soft and warm.

Qing Jun’s cheek seemed a bit hot; Zhao Rong felt a stir in his heart, and after tucking away her hair, he immediately extended his hand towards Lingfei’s cheek.

Lingfei, who was washing the plums, shivered slightly after Zhao Rong touched her cheek, tilted her head alertly like a small cat, squinting sideways at Zhao Rong, and lightly slapped down the hand that was "getting an inch and taking a mile" from beneath her eyelids.

She halted his mischievous move.

Zhao Rong withdrew his hand, slightly dejected.

Lingfei lifted her chin slightly, haughtily snorted, yet her cheeks still blushed with rouge from the accidental brush of his fingertips, not yet completely faded.

Zhao Rong thought his wife looked charming beyond measure.

Lingfei, originally slightly pleased with herself, seeing her husband’s dazed gaze still fixed on her, was momentarily startled; the next second, she hurriedly turned her head away, no longer daring to meet the gaze of her troublesome companion. Lingfei lowered her head, staring straight at the green plums being washed in her palm, her heart sweet as if it had been brushed with honey.

She blinked, pinched the smallest green plum in her hand, and placed it between her red lips and white teeth, gently biting into it.

It was sweet, sweetening the heart, too delightful to ever tire of.

Suddenly, Lingfei Zhao cradled a dozen green plums in both hands, holding them out in front of Zhao Rong, nudging them closer to him.

Zhao Rong watched the woman before him, her hair pinned up and dressed in a ruqun, as she tilted her head back slightly, a strand of black hair tucked behind her ear. Her pristine, small face was full of anticipation, offering him the green plums to eat. The water she had just scooped up in a hurry along with the plums was dripping from the gaps between her slender fingers, falling onto her ruqun that she seldom wore out.

Unconcerned about her wet skirt, Lingfei’s eyes, reflecting Zhao Rong, were filled with expectation.

Zhao Rong frowned and reached beneath Qing Jun’s hands to catch the droplets of water falling from her fingers.

But Lingfei suddenly opened her hands, and all the plums fell onto his hands that were meant to catch the water. She tilted her head, staring at him with wide eyes.

Zhao Rong pursed his lips and moved his hands above the hem of his garment, pinched a plum, but did not eat it right away.

He locked eyes with his wife.

This was a private understanding between them, now picked up once again.

He fondly remembered their childhood, when they liked to play in the hills behind their home. Qing Jun loved eating lotus seeds but was too scared to pick them herself; she had been pricked by the sharp stems of the lotus and it hurt for three days, and she disliked the sticky sap when breaking the stems. So whenever Qing Jun craved them, she would tug at Zhao Rong’s hand, dragging him to pick them, while she squatted on the bank of Lotus Pond, waiting with her chin propped on her hands.

Zhao Rong loved eating green plums, and in those carefree days of their early youth, they would often ride their hobby-horses together in spring and head to the hills to pick plums. Just like now, Qing Jun would always help him pick and wash the plums, presenting them to him to try.

Zhao Rong lowered his head, intently observing the green plums in his hand and the "green plum" before him. Everything was as it had always been countless times before.

He suddenly spoke, "Qing Jun."

"Hmm?"

Lingfei tilted her head, emitting a soft nasal sound.

"Just now at the literary gathering, there was no need to...," Zhao Rong paused, then suddenly looked up with a smile, his expression was half-joking and half-serious, "Do you still not trust your Rong’er, brother? Getting that poem accepted was as easy as lifting a finger."

Lingfei was momentarily stunned, then, seeing his smiling face, she too burst into a radiant smile, "I trust you, I’ve always trusted you."

Her voice grew louder, her tone serious.

As her words ended, Lingfei saw the look of confusion on Zhao Rong’s face, she shook her head, "It’s just, I still don’t want you to change any words, caring about what they think..."

Lingfei lowered her head to gaze at the green plums in his hand, her voice tender and smiling.

"If we care this time, and the next time, and every time, are we living our lives for us, or for them?"

Zhao Rong was silent, then after a moment, he nodded.

Afterward.

There was a silence between them for a while.

Lingfei raised her hand to push Zhao Rong’s plum-holding hand again.

Zhao Rong smiled and bit into the plum in his hand, but after tasting it, his brow furrowed slightly.

"What’s wrong?"

Lingfei’s brows also knitted together.

Zhao Rong glanced at her, offering her a whole plum and placing it near her mouth.

Lingfei didn’t think twice; her soft lips touched the green plum and gently bit into it, her words muffled, "Hmm, it’s sweet... mmm."

Zhao Rong withdrew his hand that had offered the plum and took a bite himself, nodding, "Yes, this one is indeed sweet."

No sooner had he finished than before Lingfei could react, he gobbled up all the flesh of the "sweet plum" she had bitten into, even tossing the pit into his mouth, crunching it briefly before spitting it out.

Lingfei: "..."

Zhao Rong blinked.

Lingfei’s eyes widened.