My Wife Is A Sword Immortal
Chapter 343 - 255: Although I’ve toiled all day, I can still write the character "正".

Chapter 343: Chapter 255: Although I’ve toiled all day, I can still write the character "正".

The atmosphere at the desk was somewhat awkward.

Zhao Rong stared at the rosewood teacup that Zhu Yourong held in her hand, but the position of the teacup was quite particular, right in front of a certain embarrassing spot.

When Zhao Rong had just blurted out in shock, Zhu Yourong stiffened, her hand holding the tea froze as if she had never expected him to suddenly utter such words. At this moment, she looked at Zhao Rong with a slightly dazed expression, only to see his eyes downturned, fixed on a certain spot, with a gaze that was direct, naked, and fervent.

"Ah?" Zhu Yourong’s slightly parted lips and the cheeks that immediately blushed red, were especially noticeable under the bright daylight due to her porcelain-white skin.

"I was asking whether this well water is much."

Zhao Rong urgently explained, staring at the teacup, but then it seemed as if he realized something, his gaze beyond the cup suddenly crashed into a captivating pair of hills.

Zhao Rong hurriedly looked up, glaring at Zhu Yourong, and said irritably, "It’s nothing else, don’t overthink it!"

"Oh..." Zhu Yourong responded subconsciously with her mouth opening, but then she suddenly clamped it shut.

She bit her lip and set her face, her eyebrows slightly furrowing as she gazed at the man in front of her who had no scruples in his speech. She sounded a bit serious as she asked, "What else, exactly what is Ziyu talking about?"

In the midst of their conversation, the hand that Zhu Yourong used to hold the teacup silently moved, shifting the position, and Zhao Rong’s gaze followed the movement. She lowered her eyelids slightly, hiding her emotions, appearing as if nothing of note was happening.

"Hm?" Zhao Rong noticed Zhu Yourong’s confused expression and couldn’t help frowning, probing, "You... really didn’t overthink?"

"Overthink what?" Zhu Yourong shook her head, "Are you referring to the well water used for making tea?"

She raised the teacup that she had sipped from a few times to show him.

Zhao Rong was staring at the teacup and, upon hearing her words, couldn’t help but glance a few more times at Zhu Yourong’s complexion, suddenly catching the blush that had not completely faded from her face.

His eyelids lifted, and then with an unambiguous gesture, he glanced at those two beguiling hills shrouded in mystery and said mockingly, "Not overthinking? Mr. Zhu, why is your face red then?"

Upon hearing the respectful address coming from his mouth, along with that casual gaze, Zhu Yourong’s graceful composure fell apart in an instant. Her almond-shaped eyes went wide as she threw Zhao Rong a glance, "How can you spout such nonsense!"

Coming from her background and upbringing, the men she had encountered were mostly Confucian scholars, nearly all of whom maintained a graceful and proper demeanor in her presence, nothing less than the gentlemanly image of modesty and propriety. However, she wasn’t naive about the ways of the world, as she was a Great Cultivator who had already reached the half-step of Nascent Soul and had traveled many provinces. She had seen brazen men like Zhao Rong before, but she would always stay far away, paying them no mind, never giving them the chance to approach. Even if they did approach, these men would never dare to speak nonsense in front of Zhu Yourong.

But today was different. This son of a calligraphy sage, whom she had longed for day and night over the past month, had upon first meeting, seriously duped her into thinking he liked to live off women. And now, suddenly spouting such misleading gibberish was one thing, but to also cling to her point of embarrassment, coercing her to admit to something...

Zhu Yourong pursed her lips and glowered at Zhao Rong, her brows and eyes filled with a hint of indignant shyness.

Standing still and holding her cup, Yu Huaijin watched with some puzzlement as her always-respected teacher interacted with Zhao Ziyu. Despite mulling over their words and actions, she remained baffled as to what they were discussing.

Yu Huaijin shook her head as she observed the two before her.

Why did Brother Zhao suddenly ask if Teacher had any more tea, and moreover, why did Teacher respond to his words with a glare?

Zhao Rong raised his head and glanced at Zhu Yourong; seeing the thin anger in the woman’s eyes, he pondered for a moment before nodding and saying, "Fine, whatever you say, I didn’t think too deeply about it, it seems I’ve overthought."

After his offhand remark, Zhao Rong no longer paid attention to Zhu Yourong, furrowing his brows as he contemplated the tea in her hand, his eyes lowered in silence, seemingly lost in thought.

Zhu Yourong’s breathing quickened; it was clear that he was the one talking nonsensically, so why was he conducting himself with such modesty, as though he had seen through her, she wondered.

Seeing Zhao Rong’s nonchalant and frivolous behavior, Zhu Yourong felt somewhat irritated. She lightly ground her teeth and squinted at him.

However, the woman in the Confucian robe couldn’t understand why she felt no actual aversion. Other men who were flippant and tactless had always disgusted her and she kept her distance from them. Zhao Rong, though not like those other men, was still casual in his speech and not strict in the sophisticated etiquette that Zhu Yourong had been accustomed to since childhood. Yet instead of disgust, she felt a certain lightness as if she had broken free from something.

It was similar to how she felt when, every day after maintaining decorum in public with her chest tightly bound, she inwardly longed to return home, move behind the screen, and with a quick tug of the knotted cloth around her chest, free herself from the tight constraint that made it hard to breathe. The relaxation she experienced while closing her eyes and catching her breath was somewhat similar.

But Zhu Yourong was not consciously aware of these silent changes at the moment. She was merely annoyed with the man in front of her, who was both student and teacher, for always uttering strange, unexpected phrases that made the atmosphere between them awkward. Thankfully, she had previously blocked the sound, so the students outside observing Shuaixing Hall could hardly detect anything amiss through the visuals alone. Otherwise, if such words were said in front of everyone, how could she maintain the dignity of her image as an instructor?

With that thought, Zhu Yourong’s gaze towards Zhao Rong unconsciously brimmed with a hint of blame...

Just then, she glanced sideways and noticed her disciple standing to her left rear, who seemed to show no particular reaction but appeared rather puzzled.

Zhu Yourong let out a slight sigh of relief, thankful that Xuanji didn’t understand, otherwise, it would be mortifying... Even so, she still felt her cheeks warm slightly, and she quickly bowed her head, subconsciously taking another light sip from her cup.

"Wait," Zhao Rong said urgently, yet seeing that she had already taken another small sip, he added with concern, "Zhu Yourong, don’t drink any more."

Zhu Yourong looked up in confusion, "Ziyu, what exactly is wrong with this tea?"

Zhao Rong didn’t answer but instead pointed seriously at her tea cup, "Zhu Yourong, could you... give me this tea? It’s very important to me."

Zhu Yourong: "..."

Yu Huaijin: "..."

Unable to hold back, Yu Huaijin stepped forward, "Brother Zhao, even if Teacher holds you in high regard, you cannot casually make such impolite requests, please show some respect."

She looked sternly at Zhao Rong; Teacher was already known for her fastidiousness, and it was unprecedented for her to offer her cherished tea set for him to drink from. Now that he was asking for the tea she had already tasted, how could Teacher agree? It was a complete lack of manners...

Yu Huaijin glanced at the teacup in Zhu Yourong’s hand, her brows furrowed tightly, and then she turned to speak seriously to Zhao Rong, "Brother Zhao, you can start by explaining why you need this tea, but the cup in my teacher’s hand is definitely..."

"Xuanji, come back," Zhu Yourong suddenly said.

Yu Huaijin, cut off mid-sentence, started to speak but then stopped; however, seeing her teacher’s expression, she still returned to stand behind Zhu Yourong.

Zhao Rong watched this scene, his lips pursed in silence. He turned his head to look far off at the small bamboo tube on the bright red long table, then at the teacup in Zhu Yourong’s hand, hesitating in his expression. Yet Gui was urging him on in his heart.

Zhao Rong closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the anomalous red snake in his meridian. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and said sincerely,

"Zhu Yourong, the tea in your hand is really important to me, I am truly sorry for these impolite words. If there’s anything you need, just tell me, if I don’t have it, I will go out of my way to get it for you."

Zhu Yourong’s face flushed slightly as she examined Zhao Rong’s earnest face, and also noticed the reluctance in his gaze fixed on the teacup, as if he was waiting for her answer.

But at the same time, she sensed with the corner of her eye and her divine sense that most of the Shuaixing Hall students’ eyes, who could not hear but could see the scene, were all focused here.

The Confucian-robed woman did not know why, but there seemed to be a hint of annoyance in her eyes and brows. She shot a resentful glance at Zhao Rong, immediately waved her left sleeve, and all the tea sets on the tables disappeared. Zhu Yourong raised her eyes again to fix them on Zhao Rong, then with a flick of her right hand holding the cup, the teacup instantly vanished—not given to Zhao Rong, but then again... she did not drink it either.

Zhu Yourong looked down casually, smoothing her sleeves. She sat primly and spread out a stack of rolled-up papers on the desk, took out a vermilion brush, and seemed to be prepared to start grading the papers.

Yu Huaijin breathed a sigh of relief at the sight but was still a bit worried about her teacher’s act of putting away the teacup and not immediately quenching Zhao Rong’s improper thoughts by drinking it all.

Yu Huaijin glanced sideways at Zhao Rong, unable to understand why her teacher seemed to favor him so. The only thing that could truly captivate her teacher’s heart was calligraphy. Could it be... impossible, her teacher had recently been losing sleep over the research of a potential "Master" who was also likely to be a Scholar from the Academy.

At this thought, the staid woman slightly shook her head; suddenly, her expression froze as though she had remembered something.

Yu Huaijin abruptly turned her head to look at Zhao Rong, who remained calm in expression. Could it be!

At this moment, Zhao Rong was not paying attention to his surroundings but was repeatedly confirming with Gui in his Heart Lake. Indeed, it was due to the Zhengguan Well Water and not anything to do with brewing tea with orchids that he received an assured reply from the Sword Spirit. He exhaled forcefully.

"Dragon Energy..." Zhao Rong muttered under his breath.

He looked toward Zhu Yourong again, about to speak.

Suddenly, Zhu Yourong, in the middle of dipping her brush in ink to grade papers without looking up, sensed something. She freed one hand, waved it over the eight remaining characters—dampened with ink—on the desk.

’In the realm of a square inch, lies the universe’—the eight characters disappeared without a trace.

Immediately, faint noises from the clearing surged over like a tide, covering up the secluded small world that enveloped the three people in front of the desk just a second before.

The Shuaixing Hall students all turned to look in their direction.

Zhao Rong slowly closed his mouth.

Zhu Yourong, her head slightly bowed, the corner of her mouth curving into a smile, held the red brush for grading in one hand and covered her mouth with a fist in front of her lips like the petals of a morning flower, and cleared her throat,

The voice of the Confucian-robed woman was clear and crisp, and she smiled sweetly, "Does anyone else have papers to submit? I, the teacher, am about to begin grading, and the prize is a portion of exquisite Zhengguan Well Water for brewing tea."

She was serious, seemingly speaking to the crowd in the clearing, but in her shining willow eyes, her gaze kept darting toward someone.

Zhao Rong’s mouth twitched.

Yu Huaijin and the other students turned their gazes toward him.

"Why act like a child..." Zhao Rong grumbled.

He slowly stood up, preparing to lay out his paper and grind his ink. His desk was rather small, intended for use by a single student, but now Zhao Rong and Zhu Yourong were sitting face-to-face, sharing it together.

Zhao Rong addressed the Confucian-robed woman opposite of him, who had unceremoniously taken up space, his tone polite, "Excuse me, will you please move a bit? I need to write."

Zhu Yourong lowered her eyes, pushed the papers backwards, then raised her gaze, a puzzled look on her face, "Huh, Ziyu, didn’t you say you were worn out from yesterday and your hand was still shaking?"

Zhao Rong’s mouth twitched, and while rolling up his sleeves and readying his brush, amidst the eyes on him, he said lazily, "Even after working for a whole day and night, I can still draw the character ’Zheng’. There’s no secret, just familiarity with the hand."

"..." Yu Huaijin.

Without further ado, Zhao Rong’s gaze concentrated, and he swiftly penned down the character ’Zheng’.

————

PS: About the fill-in-the-blank puzzle from the last Chapter—ahem, little Rong was worried that everyone was too innocent and wouldn’t be able to figure it out, but in fact...

Nobody got the correct answer because the guesses were... too explicit! It seems that the set of "Top Ten Risqué Pictures Among Fencing Group Members" selected by little Rong cannot be given out, what a pity! (๑＞ڡ＜)☆

Ahem, the standard answer is: Yourong is great, Zhao Rong is even greater! (It’s all about the homophones~)