My Wife Is A Sword Immortal
Chapter 301 - 232 Whose handwriting?_2

Chapter 301: Chapter 232 Whose handwriting?_2

"Oh," Jingzi spoke softly and indifferently.

At this moment, several individuals inside the pavilion seemed to have noticed Yu Huaijin, who had just entered Yilan Pavilion.

Among them, a handsome man in splendid attire quickly left the pavilion and approached her.

"Brother Huaijin, what a coincidence to see you here."

The man was Han Wenfu, his smile warm and his tone filled with pleasant surprise.

"Brother Han, Brother Chen, Brother Wei..." Yu Huaijin replied calmly, bowing respectfully to him and the other senior halls’ students behind him.

"Brother Yu." The group returned her salute.

With a smile, Han Wenfu said, "Brother Huaijin, it seems you are here to seek Teacher Zhu’s guidance in calligraphy as well."

As he spoke, he carefully observed the expressions of the woman he had been dreaming of day and night.

Yu Huaijin’s expression remained tranquil. She glanced at him, nodded slightly, and without engaging further, she excused herself with folded hands, "I apologize, gentlemen, Xuanji has matters to attend to and must leave first."

With these words, she turned and walked towards a distant flower garden where the graceful figure of a woman could faintly be seen.

Han Wenfu and the other senior academy students exchanged glances with a familiar and unembarrassed understanding.

Han Wenfu maintained his warm smile, watching as Yu Huaijin walked away.

Her thin and petite silhouette grew smaller and smaller until she vanished into the garden they had been gazing at all morning.

He squinted his eyes, focusing intently.

In the flower garden, amidst the colorful orchids, there was a narrow desk surrounded by blooms, beside which a Confucian-robed woman stood, as serene as the flowers around her. She bowed down, reached into her sleeve, took up her brush, and began to write with vigorous strokes.

Most of the students at Mochi Academy were at least somewhat aware of Yu Huaijin’s relationship with Teacher Zhu, whom countless scholars of Confucian academies respected and admired.

Yu Huaijin was not from Wangque Continent, but a few months ago, she was brought to Linlu Academy by Teacher Zhu. She didn’t take any shortcuts afforded by her teachers to enter the academy; instead, she took part in the academy’s entrance examination and, with undeniable merit, came first, earning her place in Mochi Academy.

Han Wenfu gazed from afar at the figures of Yu Huaijin and Teacher Zhu, the female mentor and disciple among the orchids, feeling no dissatisfaction. After all, in his view, aside from the reclusive Mountain Master of the entire Linlu Academy, there should be no other man allowed into this secluded and beautiful flower garden reserved for Teacher Zhu’s calligraphy.

Even those deemed as Reading Seeds weren’t permitted.

Because this Confucian-robed woman was a Confucian of the highest rank.

Even though she had been somewhat neglected by the Central Continent Confucian Temple due to her solitary pursuit of the bleak and long-forgotten path of calligraphy, her status and cultivation remained. In the stern and strict world of the Confucian, no academy scholar would dare to overstep even half a step.

Han Wenfu hurriedly restrained his gaze, turning his eyes away, no longer looking at the poetic and picturesque orchid-like woman, for some things were impossible. The one worthy of her would need to be a gentleman of the same standing, wouldn’t it?

Han Wenfu pondered deeply before his eyes focused solely on Yu Huaijin once more.

A few days ago, his attempt to present a Falling Flower Grade poem was fruitless, not only was it publicly rejected by her, but their blossoming friendship regressed back to a distant and cordial acquaintanceship.

However, Han Wenfu had deliberately refrained from seeking Yu Huaijin "to ask about academia" in the past few days for fear of pushing her further away. Now that a few days had cooled any previous frictions, it was time to seek a new opportunity.

He peered intently towards the flower garden.

Though Yu Huaijin was indeed difficult to approach, Han Wenfu, having known her for so many days and experienced some setbacks, had gradually found some seemingly effective tactics.

While Yu Huaijin seemed rigid, solemn, and aged beyond her years, adhering to all rites and behaving in a steady and composed manner, treating everyone equally—which Han Wenfu found difficult to penetrate—she must be incredibly proud at heart.

This woman’s heart likely harbored no thoughts of looking down upon others, yet her talent, ability, and family background unconsciously made her look down on everyone.

Therefore, she treated all others equally; even a mortal without cultivation and a cultivator who had ascended the mountain were the same in Yu Huaijin’s eyes. From the summit, looking down, there was no difference between those at the foot of the mountain and those midway up; all were beneath her.

Unsure of what had crossed his mind, Han Wenfu’s smile gradually faded, but then he lightly curled up the corners of his mouth again.

It was precisely because of Yu Huaijin’s character that if someone could defeat her, particularly in an area she cared about, and cause her to fail, it was possible to earn the true respect of this staid woman.

Moreover, because of her serious and studious nature, she might even take the initiative to seek him out for advice in return.

Han Wenfu exhaled a deep breath from his chest; the mid-monthly exam coming in over half a month was his chance.

Han Wenfu was clear about his own strengths—he had always been quite self-aware—and sometimes considered it a point of pride.

It would be difficult for him to outperform Yu Huaijin in the Seven Arts within a short time, including calligraphy, which both had performed unsatisfactorily to Teacher Zhu.

After all, Yu Huaijin was close to Teacher Zhu and had the advantage of proximity. Han Wenfu felt surpassing her would be difficult.

However, if he could lead the Cultivation Hall to defeat the Shuaixing Hall headed by Yu Huaijin in the mid-monthly exam, shatter her pride, and take the title of first place for the autumn quarter of the academic year,

then, according to Yu Huaijin’s temperament, she would likely take the initiative to consult him, and he would no longer be one of the "indiscriminate" people in her eyes. Their relationship would certainly progress, and that would be his breakthrough...

"Hey hey, Han Grump... Han Wenfu, have you had your fill of looking? You’ve been staring at Sister Yu and my Teacher!"

An impatient, petulant voice called out.

Han Wenfu suddenly snapped back to reality and turned his head to see that Teacher Zhu’s personal female attendant student was glaring at him with frowned brows.

She was the vindictive and petty type; he felt a twitch in his eyelid.

Several of the Academy seniors around him who were more familiar were also looking at him with strange expressions.

Han Wenfu clenched a fist to his mouth and coughed twice, then lowered his head and remained silent.

...

Yu Huaijin, trailing scents of different orchids, paced gently into the flower garden with a food box in hand.

In her sight, Teacher Zhu dressed in a simple Confucian robe, with long hair casually tied up, was at that moment bent over the writing desk, one hand pulling up the sleeve to reveal a section of smooth, slender arm, the other holding a pristine brush, absorbed in writing something.

He did not turn to look at her.

But Yu Huaijin was accustomed to it and thought nothing of it.

She moved lightly to the side of the table and stood silently in a spot a few steps away, careful not to disturb the woman in the Confucian robe.

However, Yu Huaijin’s gaze was soon drawn to a neatly framed couplet placed in the center of the table.

At a glance, Yu Huaijin noticed that the handwriting on the couplet was not the teacher’s, but it felt oddly familiar, as if she had seen it somewhere before.

After another careful look, her eyelids lifted slightly. The handwriting of the man she had seen earlier at the entrance collaborating with the teacher on a couplet resembled the script on this couplet. Only the style was different; this was more of the regular script she was well acquainted with. Yet from the brushstrokes alone, one could discern the powerful and imposing aura.

Yu Huaijin slightly tilted her head, unable to resist casting a glance at her Teacher, who remained deep in concentration.

Her gaze was faintly puzzled.