My Wife Is A Sword Immortal
Chapter 312 - 240 Heart-to-Heart and Farewell

Chapter 312: Chapter 240 Heart-to-Heart and Farewell

"Qing Jun, I’m feeling a bit distressed."

"Huh..." Zhao Lingfei was slightly opening her rosy lips, breathing heavily.

"Qing Jun, really."

"Where, where do you feel uncomfortable?" Zhao Lingfei lowered her head, wearing a lotus green silk robe over her clothes, with the right shoulder having already slipped off. She extended her elegant arm and slipped her sleeve back on.

"I feel uncomfortable everywhere." Zhao Rong was sincere.

Zhao Lingfei tidied her clothes for a while, thought about it, and looked up earnestly, "It’s getting cooler in the autumn, so you should drink more hot water."

Zhao Rong gazed intently at Zhao Lingfei’s peach blossom like cheeks and nodded in agreement,

"At night, when I am tired from reading, Qing Jun, pour me some hot water. Otherwise, I’ll forget."

Zhao Lingfei tilted her head, reaching out to adjust the cloud-like hairpin sitting in her step-shaking beautiful ornament, and carefully combed a few strands of stray hair that had fallen onto Zhao Lingfei’s smooth forehead.

At that moment, Zhao Lingfei heard this and grimaced slightly, shaking her head, "Are you not afraid I’ll kick... No, that won’t work."

Zhao Rong took her hand, seriously saying, "I won’t do anything bad, really. Just pour some hot water for me at night to quench my thirst."

Zhao Lingfei understood all too well her childhood sweetheart husband’s "tricks," even hearing clearly the traps hidden in his words, it wasn’t that she was overly cunning, but rather, she had suffered too much at the hands of this scoundrel. She was already familiar with his way of flattering before the fact and rationalizing afterward.

Zhao Lingfei took his words, her melon-seed face lifting slightly, glanced at the sun having risen above, stood up, and directly pulled his hand, walking out of the dilapidated courtyard.

"It’s getting late; we should return quickly. We promised your academy’s senior sister that she would teach you the zither this afternoon."

The two did not stop, leaving the accidentally discovered abandoned courtyard, continuing along the crunchy fallen leaves, returning along the same path, and stepped out of the woodland.

Seeing Qing Jun not falling for it, and bringing up that stern-face "debt collector" Yu Huaijin, Zhao Rong pursed his lips, "Why are you also siding with her? Could it be that after fighting a battle, you sympathized with each other? Fine then, I’ll leave, and you can live with her."

Zhao Lingfei couldn’t help but laugh and cry. How could he be like a child, getting jealous of that too, and to think he called her the big jar of vinegar.

"Where am I siding with her, Rong’er brother, what am I not considering for you? I almost wish I could cut out my heart and hold it up before your eyes."

Zhao Lingfei glared at Zhao Rong mournfully.

At that time, walking among the autumn leaves, this mole-dotted beauty with bright eyes and white teeth, gazed at Zhao Rong saying,

"In the morning, had I not suddenly seen her binding you with a ritual formation, Lingfei was anxious, fearing that you would be disrespected and bullied in the academy in the future because they thought you had no one backing you. I, a mere lady of the household, wouldn’t have stepped out of line in this strictly ritualistic academy."

She paused, then said, "On the way here, I heard from the eldest senior brother that your Shuaixing Hall’s Yu Huaijin is diligent and responsible. Although she is somewhat stern and old-fashioned, she also considers the hall’s best interest,

Since you, brother Rong’er, are not well-versed in Music Art and Yu Huaijin is keen on teaching you diligently, you might as well take this opportunity to improve, just as long as her methods are not too harsh."

Zhao Rong felt Qing Jun’s tight grip on his hand, he slightly tilted his head back, looking through the gaps in the leaves at the blue and white sky, the sunlight spilling over them both.

Zhao Rong spoke softly:

"I truly have little interest in Music Art, not to mention I have never found much meaning in this musical path. A gentleman keeps his zither close, Music Art prioritizes the zither,

but practicing zither skill, all I see are monotonous techniques and the mundane methods of plucking, both cumbersome and less interesting than the structured Ritual Skill, at least the latter allows exploration into the scholarly aspects of heaven, earth, and humanity. However, what is there in Music Art..."

As he spoke, Zhao Rong shook his head, his gaze returning from the gap outside the leaves.

Zhao Lingfei, somewhat perplexed—although she was from a noble and prestigious family at the foot of the mountain, she was not an ordinary noble lady; she had chosen another path to ascend, having scaled mountains with a sword in hand even before she was Dou Kou age, and even needlework and tea ceremony were skills she had privately practiced for Zhao Rong—and did not study zither.

Zhao Lingfei thought for a moment and said, "Isn’t Scripture Interpretation also tedious and tasteless? Why then does brother Rong’er like it?"

Zhao Rong’s eyes shone brightly, hearing a topic of interest, he turned to look at Zhao Lingfei, and became more talkative.

"It’s different. Scripture Interpretation, although it requires immersing oneself in scriptures, allows me to discover, like picking pearls from vast seas, the philosophies of the sages, to understand the charm of thought, delve into the knowledge of the Great Dao. The process, where is it dull? I find it quite fascinating, contentedly enraptured..."

"Qing Jun, I must tell you, yesterday in ’Er Ya’, from a difficult line of Analects, I unearthed some new meanings, such as I have never seen before in any other scriptural interpretations. I wonder if I’m the first to discern them; I shall visit Teacher Yan some time..."

Zhao Rong grew more enthusiastic as he spoke, one hand clasping the woman next to him’s tender wrist, the other sliding down from his sleeve, held horizontally in front of him, slightly lifting his chin, the Confucian scarf on his head billowing in the autumn breeze amidst the woods.

Zhao Lingfei tilted her head, staring blankly at Zhao Rong at that moment, almost mesmerized.

He was just like when he was a child, eagerly talking about things he enjoyed and found interesting. Although Zhao Lingfei mostly did not understand, she enjoyed listening and only wished that Rong’er brother would speak to her alone.