My Wife Is A Sword Immortal
Chapter 317 - 242 Leisurely My Heart

Chapter 317: Chapter 242 Leisurely My Heart

Hmm?

Zhao Rong reacted quickly, stretching out his hand to catch the thin piece of fabric before it hit the ground, grasping it in his hand.

What is this?

Zhao Rong’s eyes shone with curiosity, feeling the fabric to be light and thin, the touch smooth and silky.

With his right hand tightly holding the fabric, he didn’t look immediately, instead, he first draped his long robe with the left hand. When he was ready, he loosened his fist in the right hand, spread out the strange piece of cloth, and revealed its true nature.

It turned out to be a small diamond-shaped piece of silk, smooth, clean, dyed in an uncommon milky white, embroidered with a proud-standing Qinglian, the green and white starkly noticeable.

When Zhao Rong first saw it, he was quite puzzled; however, when he saw several thin straps dangling from both sides of the cloth, he paused slightly, and his eyes gradually widened.

The room was silent, Zhao Rong stood alone before the table, staring unwaveringly at the "autumn clothes" Qing Jun had sent.

Zhao Rong suddenly sighed and shook his head, "Ah, Qing Jun, how careless of you, stuffing such a private item..."

As he spoke, he turned his head to glance around the spacious room, the cold moonlight spilling through the window, occasionally accompanied by the chirping of insects from the courtyard.

"Ahem, ahem."

Zhao Rong’s words halted, his gaze also fixed on the moon outside the window, his expression gradually becoming strange; he didn’t look down but slightly tightened his grip with three fingers, gently pinching Lingfei’s personal garment.

After a little while.

Zhao Rong couldn’t help looking down again, blinked, spread out the stomach cover once more to take a closer look, suddenly, his gaze paused on a specific spot.

It was a line of elegant small characters, embroidered in colored silk threads.

"Qing Qing Zi Jin... Yu Yu Wo Xin."

Zhao Rong muttered to himself, silently pursing his lips.

He remembered the day in the Four Seasons Hall at Taiching Four Mansions when they "first" met, he was precisely wearing a scholar’s green robe.

The green is your collar, the intense is my sentiment.

But to Zhao Rong, this love poem, "composed" in such a way, carried a deeper meaning, very clear at a glance.

His mind involuntarily pictured Qing Jun’s raised eyebrows and eyes, her eyes slightly squinting like autumn waters.

Her smile bloomed like flowers.

Rong’er, do you know, ever since you left, I’ve been thinking of you incessantly, your image always appearing before me.

A day apart feels like three autumns.

Zhao Rong narrowed his eyes to take a closer look.

This line of text was precisely located on the upper right of the stomach cover, he thought for a moment, according to Qing Jun’s slender figure, if she were to wear this white stomach cover embroidered with the cool lotus, tying the thin straps around her jade back, and as their son’s canteen grows bigger, stretching the fabric at certain places... this line would sit exactly over Qing Jun’s heart.

How different was this from having his name embroidered there?

Only it was more diffident.

"Yu Yu Wo Xin..."

Zhao Rong couldn’t help reading it again softly, then became lost in thought once more.

He missed her, too.

During the day, Qing Jun had asked him how much he fancied her.

The most in this lifetime.

Zhao Rong had responded instantly.

Whether or not Qing Jun was testing the truth from his Heart Lake, he would have given the same answer, because that was the truth, with a clear conscience.

Zhao Rong had asked himself before, between Qing Jun and Xiao Xiao, whom did he cherish more.

If it was on the way to Du You City to find Qing Jun, especially after he and Xiao Xiao had made their lifelong commitment under the round gazebo, Zhao Rong would still be vague, even hesitant.

However, when at the foot of You Mountain, he chose to run recklessly to take Qing Jun’s hand; when in the Four Seasons Hall, he stole a kiss from her, and she blushed and bowed her head; when outside the Qinglian Pavilion, Qing Jun, cold on the outside but warm on the inside, pulled him closer, stammeringly demanding a kiss, offering her first kiss.

Zhao Rong felt, he had asked and received his heart’s answer.

The two went from childhood sweethearts to hand-in-hand into old age, a bond spanning life and death.

She was the moon above the Nine Heavens, forever residing in his heart.

Xiao Xiao’s silly girl affection could not be ignored, but Qing Jun’s affection was overwhelming for him.

Qing Jun’s affection, on the surface, was like cold moonlight, but in reality, it was blazing sun disguised!

Just like now, the piece of underwear with embroidered words he held in his hand, besides, Zhao Rong had unconsciously felt other things like the asymmetrical sleeves of the Confucian robe, the white handkerchief embroidered with fat ducks, and how many other things she had silently done for him over the years that he was yet to know.

For some reason, Zhao Rong suddenly became curious about Qing Jun’s boudoir, also unsure what other tokens of affection for him were hidden there.

It was because of such intense affection that he, in his anxiousness, had pulled Qing Jun into darting into the grove that morning after she hastily softened and sought to please him.

Zhao Rong wanted everything, yet facing such a Qing Jun, he appeared calm on the surface, but guilt burgeoned within him, no longer wishing to hide the truth, even though Zhao Rong believed the timing to confess wasn’t ripe yet, as it might elicit a violent reaction, like a chicken flying and eggs breaking...

But he feared that he might regret it the next second, so he hurriedly took Qing Jun into a small grove, facing her forehead to forehead.

Allowing Qing Jun to see into his Heart Lake.

Yet Zhao Rong didn’t know if she had really seen anything, nor what she had seen...

It wasn’t long before.

A night breeze entered the room, the softly flowing fabric in his hands and the hanging delicate straps danced in the wind.

Zhao Rong regained his senses, walked over to close the window, and then looked down at the garment, which seemed to be a special autumn garment his lady had meticulously prepared for him to ward off the cold at night.

Zhao Rong coughed lightly.

So, it seems that this wasn’t carelessly brought by Qing Jun, was it?

Could it be that inside her fragrant boudoir, Qing Jun kept her personal clothing and the clothes she knitted for him stacked together?

Cough cough, that’s also a possible flustered and annoyed excuse to ask her later.

Zhao Rong amusingly thought, looking forward to seeing Qing Jun’s reaction the next time he asked her about this matter. Her expression must be quite spectacular, right?

Meanwhile, Zhao Rong suddenly realized, recalling Qing Jun’s words when she stuffed the cloth bundle into his hands that morning, telling him to be careful not to lose it, cough cough, losing it would not only be a frustrating loss but he guessed that Qing Jun could very well slay him with a sword in frustration.

Zhao Rong couldn’t help but look down again at the lotus-white bellyband, realizing that Qing Jun was not as naive as a white lotus after all. It made sense; after all, having worn a wedding dress once, many of the "professional knowledge" of the wedding night must have been passed on to her by the experienced women of Duke Mansion.

Thinking of this, his brows suddenly furrowed. Speaking of this bellyband, could his lady...

Zhao Rong held each side of the bellyband, quietly bowing his head to "inspect" it briefly, then immediately looked up.

Zhao Rong shook his head and smiled wryly while muttering under his breath, "You really think of the oddest things, Zhao Ziyu."

He had just sniffed it a moment ago, savoring the scent.

It indeed carried some of Qing Jun’s jasmine scent, mixed with that unique virgin fragrance, but those were just traces—more prominently, it was a fragrance akin to agarwood that was soothing to any heart and soul.

It made sense, given Qing Jun’s disposition, that she would actively offer this special autumn garment, to keep him warm during his nighttime reading. To stand in her stead with her hands personally pouring hot water for him when he was distressed, doing so was already commendable.

And it seemed she had also washed this carefully selected intimate garment thoroughly, scented it with incense, ensuring it was spotlessly clean before shyly and confidently placing it, perhaps inadvertently in the wrong spot.

Zhao Rong nodded slightly, noticing his lady’s warm-heartedness and thoughtfulness. Yet, he sighed softly. If Qing Jun were right here, now, Zhao Rong wanted to tell her earnestly that there was no need for her to trouble herself so, clean or dirty, it didn’t matter; he was not picky.

Cough cough, actually, whether it was original or not was secondary. What was important was that he felt for Qing Jun working so hard; he could actually help with washing and scenting. It wasn’t a difficult task. Her lack of trust in her husband was her overworrying...

Zhao Rong, while holding the bellyband with a mournful sigh, complained that his lady was perhaps too virtuous.

Gradually, he felt as if a fire was brewing in his lower abdomen, and his vital blood surged even more fiercely...

Zhao Rong subconsciously glanced around, it was the deep hours of early morning, and it was autumn. The inside and outside of the house were quietly still—a good time for action.

His gaze lingered on the lotus-white bellyband for a while, gently nodding, indeed, it was time to act. He had waited for several days already and could not delay any longer, especially with Qing Jun’s heartfelt support...

The next second, Zhao Rong clenched his fist, gripped the lady’s bellyband tightly, and walked towards the bed...

Nine breaths later.

Zhao Rong returned from the bed area to the center of the room and continued to perform Fist Stance with his fists clenched, having cautiously hidden Qing Jun’s bellyband.

It was just right to utilize the phenomenon of the red serpent boiling likely caused by that bowl of Lotus Seed Glutinous Rice Porridge and the recent burning sensation in his lower abdomen, to calmly strike at the meridians.

The chicken cannot be wet, for the lost cannot return.

Qing Jun was virtuous; he couldn’t let her efforts go to waste. Today, as her husband, he was determined to break through two more Eight Extraordinary Meridians!

With this thought, Zhao Rong continued his Fist Stance without stopping, driven to unblock the meridians.

Reversed Dragon, Sword Furnace, Elbow Position, Sudden Step, Lazy Dressing...

The five poses of Fist Stance from the "Mountain Carrying Volume" rotated repetitively.

Thanks to countless days and nights of practicing Fist Stance a million times, now performing Fist Stance had become a subconscious act, flowing like clouds and water, naturally formed, almost without Zhao Rong splitting his focus.

He closed his eyes to introspect, his mind completely immersed among the internal meridians, guiding the red serpent as it gathered strength, battering the next dam.

The Eight Extraordinary Meridians, the next target was to break through the "Yang Qiao Meridian."

About half an incense stick’s time later, Zhao Rong, who was practicing with his eyes closed, slightly furrowed his brows.

He was striking at the Yang Qiao Meridian, but for some reason, he felt somewhat uneasy in his mind.

It wasn’t the impulse to intimately touch Qing Jun’s little clothing. After nights of reading, early waking, steadfast study, and practicing Fist, such a bit of self-control, Zhao Rong still had; he wouldn’t let the minor slip dissolve the major.

As long as it wasn’t the affection stirred when he was with Qing Jun and little Xiao Wen, in other situations, he could keep himself in check. This was a discipline Zhao Rong had cultivated when he had his realization in the latter part of his previous college life...

What then, was disturbing his mind?

Or rather, what was making his "heart drift"?