My Wife Is A Sword Immortal
Chapter 342 - 254 Teacher Zhu_2

Chapter 342: Chapter 254 Teacher Zhu_2

Upon reaching this point, he paused, then shook his head with a wry smile, "The range is too large, and it’s too difficult to guess such commonality. However... observing the grace of Teacher’s demeanor, and the connection with the orchid, I shall venture a guess. Does the character ’You’ or ’Jing’ appear in Teacher’s name, or is it perhaps actually ’Jing You’ or ’You Jing’?"

As his words fell, Zhao Rong curiously looked at Zhu Weirui, waiting for her reply, but she simply looked back at him with a smile without speaking, although her smile seemed even more pronounced than before.

Zhu Weirui gently nodded and then gently shook her head.

Zhao Rong stopped playing with the pen in his hand and looked at her with bright eyes, his interest piqued. "Teacher Zhu, do not leave me in suspense. Is it correct or not?"

There was a smiling expression written all over Zhu Weirui’s face. With her hands placed in front of her stomach, she glanced at Zhao Rong, who was holding the orchid tea in his hand that he had yet to taste, from which the wisps of steam were gradually thinning.

Zhao Rong realized and immediately lifted the cup, bowing his head slightly to take a sip.

With a hint of sweetness upon the tongue and a clear taste, in an instant, the warm sweet tea traveled from the tip of the tongue down his throat, feeling like a flame being pulled through, warming his esophagus and stomach.

He took a deep breath, still sensing the aroma lingering in his mouth and cheeks.

Unable to resist, Zhao Rong tilted his head back and finished the tea in one gulp, afterwards he couldn’t help but exhale, feeling exceptionally refreshed.

Zhu Weirui slightly narrowed her eyes and nodded, reached out to take the teacup, and poured another cup of tea surrounded by white mist to pass to him.

Zhao Rong accepted the hot tea and did not bother with polite thanks. For some reason, just after that one cup, his body felt incredibly comfortable.

Zhao Rong stared at the second cup of hot tea in his hand, which was filled with water from the Crown Spring.

At this moment, although he did not look up, he could feel the intent gazes of his classmates from Shuaixing Hall from the corner of his eye.

It must be psychological, Zhao Rong thought, pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Yu Huaijin, who had been quietly looking down, couldn’t help but glance at Zhao Rong after hearing his speculation about the teacher’s name. Her gaze was indescribable, and this change in her gaze had gradually begun since Zhu Weirui took her seat here, as if she... had come to see him in a new light.

Seeing how Zhao Rong and her master interacted naturally and in such harmony now, Yu Huaijin’s gaze grew even more complicated.

Zhao Rong took another sip of tea and looked up. "Does Teacher Zhu not drink?"

Zhu Weirui shook the teapot, thought for a moment, and also poured herself a cup.

She had not tried the water from the Crown Spring since she got it, and if it were not for wanting to boost the enthusiasm of the people in Shuaixing Hall today, especially this fellow in front of her who seemed to desire nothing, Zhu Weirui might have forgotten about this well water. But as it stood, bringing out the well water as a prize seemed to be to no avail. She couldn’t extract a satisfying answer from Zhao Rong, who appeared to be "playing tricks," so she had no choice but to take the initiative herself...

Zhu Weirui smiled and shook the teapot again, carefully putting away both the tea fully poured from the teapot and the large bamboo tube.

"Teacher Zhu has yet to tell me the answer," Zhao Rong said.

The lady in the Confucian robe gracefully lifted her teacup, and amid the misty tea vapors, her red lips lightly sipped, as she warmed up and looked up, slightly narrowing her eyes, her voice tenderly crisp, "Yourong, my surname is Zhu, named Yourong."

Zhao Rong murmured, "Yourong... Zhu Yourong, styled Weirui, the orchids flourish in full bloom, that is Weirui, yet stands alone in a deserted valley, with an elegance lonely to view, that is Yourong, a fine name indeed."

Zhu Weirui suppressed a laugh, bowing her head.

Seeing this, Yu Huaijin frowned.

Zhao Rong, savoring the lady’s boudoir name, suddenly had a blank look. He seemed to have thought of something, and couldn’t help but glance at Zhu Weirui and her... bosom which she was bowing towards.

"Ahem, ahem..."

Zhao Rong coughed lightly, quickly averting his indecent gaze, and took another sip of tea to suppress the question he wanted to ask Zhu Yourong about whether she had a sister named Xuan Ran.

Zhu Weirui sensed something odd, and looked at Zhao Rong strangely, puzzlingly asking, "Ziyu, my name, Yourong, is there something amiss with it?"

Zhao Rong shook his head like a rattle-drum, "No problem, no problem, it’s a very suitable name for you, Teacher. Zhu Yourong, Zhu Yourong, cough cough."

Upon hearing this, Zhu Weirui smiled awkwardly, "Thank you, Ziyu."

Zhao Rong nodded, but his eyes seemed to have a mind of their own, and he couldn’t help but sneak another glance.

He took a slight breath in surprise, having not noticed before, but now he realized something: the Mr. Zhu who was dressed in a loose goose-yellow Confucian robe, even though from Zhao Rong’s perspective the sight was far from grand, appeared to have a modest contour not much different from that of the girl Xueyou.

However, one must understand that Mr. Zhu, like female students such as Yu Huaijin, Li Xueyou, and Xiao Hongyu, was all wearing male clothes, with hair tied and crowns on their heads, and it was an unwritten rule in the Academy to tightly bind their chests.

So... Nevertheless, Zhao Rong restrained himself and did not look; his eyes were fixed on the desk, where Zhu Weirui had written eight characters with plain water that were about to dry, and he was slightly lost in thought.

By this account, Mr. Zhu’s scale was indeed the most impressive he had seen among the women in the Academy.

Zhao Rong lowered his head and muttered something, then lifted the teacup and drained it in one gulp.

Zhu Weirui felt that the man in front of her was speaking strangely, but couldn’t quite put her finger on what was odd. Does Ziyu fancy my name?

She shook her head to dispel these thoughts and then, with a frown, she said, "There’s something else, Ziyu, we need to settle beforehand."

"What’s that?" Zhao Rong put down his cup and bowed his head respectfully, not looking at her.

Zhu Weirui spoke methodically, "If we are in front of others at the Academy, we will continue to observe the formal teacher-student decorum, I shall call you Ziyu, and you will call me Mr. Zhu. However, when we are alone, we can interact as equals, you may call me Zhu Yourong, and I can call you Zhao Rong or Ziyu, would that be acceptable?"

Zhao Rong nodded, "That would be fine, Mr. Zhu."

"Zhao Rong, what will you call me?"

"Yourong?"

Hearing this intimate nickname that directly omitted the surname, Zhu Weirui slightly averted her gaze, not looking directly at Zhao Rong, and she gently shook her head, "No, it’s Zhu Yourong."

Zhao Rong twirled his pen, "Alright, Mr. Zhu."

Zhu Weirui turned to face him, looking at him seriously, "Zhao Rong, call me Zhu Yourong."

Zhao Rong looked up with a smile, meeting her gaze, and put away the playful curve of his lips as he said aloud:

"I am Zhao Rong, may I ask for your distinguished name?"

Zhu Yourong smiled lightly, "This humble girl is named Zhu Yourong, Zhao Rong, I look forward to learning more from you."

Yu Huaijin watched this scene quietly.

Zhu Yourong nodded her head gracefully, a satisfied smile curling her lips, as she picked up the teacup, ready for a sip.

Just at that moment, Zhao Rong’s expression suddenly froze, and then he quickly bowed his head, his gaze fixated on the front of the Confucian-robed woman’s chest as he urgently said, "Yourong, did you spill any water?"

Zhu Yourong and Yu Huaijin: "......"

Zhao Rong abruptly used the intimate nickname for the woman in the Confucian robe in a rushed tone, but now he had no time to think about such things. His expression was serious as he stared at the teacup she held in front of her chest, unblinking.

The sound of Sword Spirit’s recent shout of surprise still echoed in Heart Lake.

——————

PS: The simple fill-in-the-blank question for "Sword Lady" (first issue): Yourong____, Zhao Rong____. (The first book friend to answer correctly in "This Chapter Says" will receive a mysterious gift from Xiao Rong; the answer will be revealed in the next Chapter.)