My Wife Is A Sword Immortal
Chapter 369 - 271: Still Encountered a Bizarre Scene

Chapter 369: Chapter 271: Still Encountered a Bizarre Scene

The following day.

Dawn was just breaking.

In Nanxuan Academy, at the East Fence Small House, north room.

Zhao Rong snuffed out and then relit the lamp that had burned all night, stretching and yawning.

Yesterday afternoon, he had taught two calligraphy classes, the last of which at Justice Hall, had ended among a chorus of uniform "receiving Teacher’s instruction."

After assigning the students of Justice Hall the same task of writing reflections on their readings as he had done in Shuaixing Hall, he returned from the foothills of Linlu Mountain. He had intended to rest that night, but the unofficial history he brought back with him proved too enticing, and he couldn’t help but flip through it all night.

Zhao Rong found it rather coincidental that this unofficial history came from the same dynasty that was at the foot of the mountain where the Confucian Scholar with his scholarly scarf lived—the kingdom named Nankang, a remote and minor state according to the head of his household, Elder Zhao.

Yet, Zhao Rong’s interest never waned as he read through the night; the culture of Nankang he glimpsed and the complex process of dynastic change were quite convoluted.

Thus, this must be one of the books that the Confucian Scholar had sent.

Sitting before the desk by the window in the north room, Zhao Rong closed the book he had flipped to the last page of, exhaling deeply as he glanced at the dawn light.

These privately compiled stories of variance gave rise to an eagerness to keep reading. Most unofficial histories consist of anecdotes that the authors had heard or witnessed, or even second-hand tales. Although they might contain groundless rumors, they are certainly much more interesting than the ’dead and plain family histories of emperors and generals.’

Furthermore, details found in these unofficial histories, which lacked the brevity and succinctness of official records, hold significant value according to his previous life’s experience studying ancient literature.

Zhao Rong smiled and shook his head, pondering for a moment before he rolled up his sleeves. He added a forceful sentence to the end of a paper filled with dense and elegant script:

’Official histories may not all be relied upon, unofficial histories may not all lack evidence, within high discernment...I believe this account of Nankang’s history is quite beneficial, and recommend that the library include it in the collection of Nankang historical materials. This is but my humble opinion, merely for reference—Mochi Student of Shuaixing Hall, Zhao Ziyu.’

With that, he settled the argument.

Pen down.

He flexed his fingers and nodded, feeling satisfied.

"Tch, with all this free time, you’d be better off cultivating more instead of wasting your energy on such trivial matters," Gui reproached from within Heart Lake.

Zhao Rong lifted his eyelids.

It seemed that last night, Gui had felt bored again and initiated a conversation, but at that time, Zhao Rong was deeply engrossed in his reading and had responded indifferently before ignoring him.

Ever since returning to the Academy, it had been like this, night after night of reading under the lamplight.

It couldn’t be helped; there was too much to learn. The Confucian Thirteen Classics required thorough reading, art studies previously neglected needed attention, and occasionally he couldn’t resist flipping through some leisure books and storybook novels. Sometimes, when he missed Qing Jun and Xiao Xiao, he’d sit by the west window, composing poems by candlelight and moonlight.

But Zhao Rong felt this lifestyle was quite enjoyable.

As for chatting, he had already wandered through messages about it in his previous life, feeling as if he had talked through two lifetimes worth of days. This feeling of settling down within the Academy and attending to his own matters was like snuggling indoors on a cold day and sipping gently on warm wine, feeling toasty inside.

Moreover, Zhao Rong always believed that true brothers don’t need to stick together every waking hour. Most of the time, each lives their own life, and when one misses the other, they simply seek them out to share those personal matters unfit for others’ ears.

Therefore, Gui’s habit of seeking out nightly chats felt very awkward to Zhao Rong, and he preferred to correct that.

In front of the desk, Zhao Rong mused aloud:

"Gui, the matters of scholars... indeed, have nothing to do with you."

Sword Spirit: "..."

After a moment of silence, it laughed sincerely and said:

"No, please don’t, even if there are things to talk about, please, oh please don’t talk to me about them. Go talk to your books instead; if something comes up, ask them too."

Zhao Rong rubbed his temples.

Something felt increasingly off, as if he was now competing with books...

"Well, that..." he began hesitantly.

Gui interrupted him: "Alright, I won’t bother you anymore. I’m going to sleep for a few days; don’t disturb me... But, if you’re about to get killed, please let me know so I can come out and see who the brave soul is that has done what I’ve always wanted to do."

Zhao Rong spoke hesitantly, "This... this isn’t good, maybe you shouldn’t sleep."

Gui shuddered. "Why? Can’t bear to let me go? Eh, weren’t you just absorbed in your scholarly pursuits?"

"It’s not that." Zhao Rong shook his head, his demeanor worried as he said, "That matter you mentioned before about the ancient cultivation technique..."

"......"

Gui grumbled: "What’s the rush? When you reach Fu Yao, come to me for it."

Zhao Rong was relieved and broke into a cheerful smile, "Alright then."

"You, hmmph."

Gui took a deep breath and snorted.

Zhao Rong waited for a while and called out to it once more, but there was no more response; Gui had probably fallen asleep.

He shook his head, then tidied up the desk and casually stuffed the reading reflection and book summary into the unofficial history.

Zhao Rong glanced outside at the color of the sky, preparing to leave. This morning he had no classes and he also happened to have an appointment with a lady as lovely as an orchid.

He was going to Yilan Pavilion for a cup of early morning orchid hot tea—a special orchid tea. If nothing unexpected happened, within the next two days, he would make another attempt to surge through his channels. After the previous attempt to break through the Dai meridian and resting for so many days, he should have mostly recovered, and with the addition of the fifth cup of Zhengguan Well Water’s enhancement...