My Wife Is A Sword Immortal
Chapter 275 - 220 What Kind of Family Is This?_2

Chapter 275: Chapter 220 What Kind of Family Is This?_2

Fan Yushu ignored Wu Peiliang’s gaze; he had long been fed up with Wu Peiliang’s air of superiority—acting as if he were above everyone else just because his studies were a bit more "enlightened," looking down on this and that, treating anyone inferior to him with a haughty and aloof demeanor.

Moreover, this was not the first time the two had quarreled. Fan was used to that useless look from Wu Peiliang, the kind that merely sought to gain some face before leaving—it reminded him of a pointless "don’t leave after school" challenge, which he found quite boring.

Fan suppressed the smile that had annoyed Wu Peiliang and turned to Yu Huaijin with a playful blink, no longer grinning mischievously.

At the other end of the corridor,

after the string broke, Zhao Rong looked up to meet the gazes of his classmates all around him. He smiled as he looked around, then promptly offered an apologetic bow.

Zhao Rong lowered his head to look at his slender fingers, somewhat reflective of the strength that came with being a "martial artist."

Even though Zhao Rong was still dressed as always in a Confucian robe, slender in frame, he was no longer the frail scholar of the past. Back in the capital of Great Wei, he had used these two fingers to pierce and kill Li Shida right in the sword furnace.

One should know that Li Shida was a cultivator of the Fu Yao Realm back then, yet he was killed in a counterattack by Zhao Rong, a steady and robust martial artist of the Ascending Realm.

Recently, Zhao Rong had been struggling to breakthrough to the Fu Yao Realm, which caused some disorder in his inner qi. This reflected outwardly as a loss of precise control over his strength; his fingers were not as nimble, and he had also been separated from a certain little fox demon for a long time...

Seeing the bite mark that had not yet faded on his wrist, Zhao suddenly thought of the incident with grabbing the wrong jade last night.

No wonder Qing Jun was annoyed enough to bite him. With his strength being unsteady, it must have hurt...

While Zhao was lost in self-reproach, Yu Huaijin approached him. She glanced at the zither with the broken string on his knee and whispered, "Brother Zhao, is your hand alright?"

Zhao Rong shook his head, "I’m fine, thank you for your concern, Brother Yu."

Yu Huaijin didn’t continue with the pleasantries after getting the confirmation that he was alright. She spoke indifferently:

"Well, if it’s nothing, then let’s continue with the class, Brother Zhao. Be more careful, and try not to break any more strings. That is a major taboo in the Music Art."

Upon hearing that the class would continue, Zhao Rong suddenly felt "unwell."

Looking up at Yu Huaijin, he blinked, "Sorry, Brother Yu, I don’t have a zither anymore. Maybe I should just listen to the teacher and the other brothers play."

Yu Huaijin still had her hands tucked in her sleeves, showing no emotion as she spoke sternly, "No worries, I have one."

With that, she pulled her hands out from the wide sleeves, holding a miniature ancient zither secured with a red ribbon.

Yu Huaijin tossed the small zither gently forward, and as the red ribbon unraveled in the air, the miniature ancient zither swiftly expanded. By the time it reached Zhao Rong, it had returned to its normal size.

The first thing Zhao Rong noticed was not the ancient zither, but the striking whiteness of the hands Yu Huaijin had pulled out from her sleeves.

Beneath the simple, thin garb of a student, she hid a pair of hands as finely crafted as the highest quality mutton-fat jade, with long, slender, and white fingers. Her pale complexion seemed darker when compared to her hands; indeed, this was a case of fingers as delicate as onion roots.

To maintain such a stark contrast in one’s hands, one was either born with it or it was the result of extreme care. However, considering her small, thin frame, it was unlikely to be a natural feature.

But before Zhao could take a longer look,

seemingly aware of his wandering gaze, Yu Huaijin quickly concealed her hands back into her sleeves, revealing nothing, the covered hands held properly in front of her.

Her expression unchanged, she watched Zhao Rong, "Brother Zhao, please receive the zither."

Realizing he could no longer avoid it, Zhao felt compelled to catch the floating ancient zither from midair, placing it on his knees. The body of the zither felt heavy. He looked down casually—the style of the ancient zither was the same as the one with the broken string he had just been playing, ordinary and common, with nothing special about it.

Noticing Yu Huaijin’s supervisory look while he was still looking down, Zhao suddenly felt an impulse. He stealthily exerted force with his fingers and tried to pluck the strings of the zither on his knee, just as before.

But he couldn’t break them!

Zeng——!

As Zhao Rong released the string from his index finger, the sound of the zither was dull.

Yu Huaijin turned and walked back to her original seat.

Zhao Rong raised his eyebrows, looking at this ordinary ancient zither, is it really this durable?

He reached out to continue plucking it.

Zheng, zheng, zheng.

The sound of the zither was still dull, and it sounded very ordinary to the other students present.

However, Teacher Si slightly raised his head, a smile appearing on his face, and nodded lightly.

"There’s something off about this zither."

A voice echoed in Zhao Rong’s Heart Lake, and Gui couldn’t help but speak up.

"What’s off about it? Although, it really does seem quite sturdy," Zhao Rong said, curious.

The Sword Spirit, in its unique Soul Body state, remained silent, because the zither sounds that had already disappeared in the air were still echoing ceaselessly in its ears.

And not the muffled sound that Zhao Rong heard outside, but rather... it was as if it came from above the Nine Heavens, like the long cry of a phoenix, clear through the clouds.

Gui suddenly said, "This zither body is made from Golden Phoenix Wood, which grows in the western seas where the sun sets—an unyielding existence that lasts for three thousand years without perishing, falling, or decaying. As for these strings..."

Gui’s gaze moved away from the plain-looking, strangely grained, pitch-black zither body to the seven "Zhongqing" strings that Zhao Rong’s palm rested on. After examining them for a while, he said:

"These silk strings, I can’t see what kind they are for now, and I guess you can’t unravel them either, but this string glue that wraps around them... it’s made from the Dragon Tendon comparable to that of a Nascent Soul Realm cultivator of the Human Clan undergoing Divinity Transformation."

Zhao Rong, hearing this, didn’t have too much of a concept of what that meant, but he did understand "Nascent Soul Realm," and what that existence implied.

He blinked and glanced at the slender yet straight as a ruler figure of Yu Huaijin departing.

What kind of family was this?

Nevertheless, Zhao Rong had recently encountered Ji Qianyi at the Nuanyi Gathering in Taiching Prefecture, who seemed even more pretentious with a thick collection of refined poetry.

He also knew that this Linlu Academy, gathering talents from all over Yizhou and hiding dragons and crouching tigers, shouldn’t overwhelm him too much.

Zhao Rong looked down at this "good thing," tapped his fingers together, and, soon enough, started to play his Sealing Demon Zither Technique with some interest.

Zheng zheng... zheng zheng zheng... zheng zheng zheng zheng zheng...

On the field, Jia Tengying, Xiao Hongyu, Jia Tengying, and others had initially resumed playing their zithers, but suddenly stopped because of the "Heavenly Sound" coming from Zhao Rong’s direction, and turned to look towards him.

Yu Huaijin, who was originally walking away from Zhao Rong, paused her steps, hesitated for a moment, then turned and walked back to Zhao Rong’s side.

Separated by a distance of three steps, Yu Huaijin sat down next to Zhao Rong. "Zhao Ziyu, have you never learned the zither before?"

Zhao Rong thought for a moment, then shook his head, "I’ve learned a bit, but never practiced seriously."

Yu Huaijin gazed at Zhao Rong and nodded earnestly, "I understand."

Then she said, "Let’s start from the very basics."

Immediately, she began instructing Zhao Rong on his zither skills.

Zhao Rong wasn’t interested in the zither, but at this point had no choice but to follow Yu Huaijin’s lead and start from the beginning, learning the basic fingering, rules, and so on.

Actually, this was supposed to be Teacher Si’s job, but since most students at Shuaixing Hall were already initiated in the zither, Teacher Si’s lessons had to cater to the majority.

And Yu Huaijin wasn’t just a senior student of Shuaixing Hall; she was also the assistant chosen early on by Teacher Si. Since Teacher Si was blind, she helped him with the teachings, so it was only natural for her to take on the task of teaching Zhao Rong, the beginner, how to play the zither.

Gradually, the sunset fell, and night descended.

The first day of classes at Linlu Academy for Zhao Rong had come to an end.