My Wife Is A Sword Immortal
Chapter 375 - 274 Wasting your family’s fabric, saying I’m hard to maintain?

Chapter 375: Chapter 274 Wasting your family’s fabric, saying I’m hard to maintain?

Today’s Yilan Pavilion was exceptionally quiet.

In the garden, there was one less figure bent over practicing calligraphy.

Amidst the flourishing, season-defying flowers, there was also absent the blue-clothed girl who used to dash around with a flower spade, busily turning the soil.

And next to the pavilion’s entrance, the Guest Pavilion had seen no scholars from Mochi coming to seek guidance ever since a certain someone became a teaching assistant.

In fact, this wasn’t to say that the Mochi scholars had no problems to consult Mr. Zhu about, but nobody would foolishly come over for trivial matters to play ’grandchild’ to a certain ’grand dame.’

And this ’grand dame’ named Yourong, who actually couldn’t stay still at all, was currently squatting in the Bamboo Forest next to Zunjing Pavilion not too far from Yilan Pavilion, quietly yet vigorously scooping soil with a small spade as if racing against time.

The blue-clothed girl dug around the bamboo roots with mud in her hands, her little head constantly lifting to look around in all directions, like a deer that had sneaked to the riverside for a drink, always alert and watchful.

Her large, round eyes most often glanced towards the pavilion next to her, its plaque named ’Zunjing’ blocking out the sunlight.

The pavilion was silent and still, with no one entering or exiting in the early morning.

Yourong let out a silent sigh of relief.

You see, unless necessary, she usually would not come near here, unless she had to follow Teacher, like a few days ago...

But today, for the sake of her sisters suffering in Yilan Pavilion, Yourong wiped her sweat, tensed her little face, and went all in...

At this moment, within the serene Yilan Pavilion, in a refined study hidden amidst the orchids and Lin leaves.

A woman’s melodious and clear voice was echoing.

"...Nonetheless, aside from that, to say that I do not do what others expect of me and just want to do the things I like all day long, writing my calligraphy, is not entirely true."

"Take the art of entering the path through calligraphy. If I can have the good fortune to find this path while I am enjoying my writing, then it is the best outcome. Yourong is not someone without desires or aspirations. To make the things I love into a wide and open avenue, to let those who love characters after me walk this path more freely—that is something of which I would feel proud and satisfied. It gives me a sense of achievement. In fact, this is also one of the reasons why I came to Linlu Academy, to write and to teach ’Seventh Art.’"

"In addition to this, to render former detractors speechless, and to make relatives and friends relieved and proud... If these can be achieved, of course it would be the best."

"However, even without them, it’s no big deal. They are just scenery along the way, not the end purpose for doing these things, they’re... just embellishments."

"That’s all... just that!"

She continued speaking, her voice gradually fading, but her tone became more and more resolute.

Just then, inside the room, in front of the desk, a Confucian-robed woman, who was quite wasteful of fabric, had her toes pointed, her body leaning forward, with her weight resting on the edge of the desk. One hand was placed on the desk beside the inkstone, while the other hand had somehow reached her head. Her fingers slightly spread out, raised high as if to grab something above her head to firmly grasp it in her hand.

Next to her, a young Confucian Scholar with rolled-up sleeves watched the dignified and elegant woman, who normally exuded grace like an orchid, making such a silly and somewhat ’chunibyo’ gesture for the first time, and he couldn’t suppress a slight curl of his lips.

It should have been comical, but for some reason, he could not bring himself to laugh.

Zhao Rong narrowed his eyes, observing this scene. Seeing such a Zhu Yourong, the corners of his mouth involuntarily lifted.

It turned out that she was neither of the images he had imagined; she was just a simple-minded person who loved writing... a fool indeed.

Zhao Rong nodded slightly, taking a few looks at Zhu Yourong’s serious profile.

So, she’s an interesting person, plus an interesting matter?

Suddenly, Zhao Rong subconsciously glanced again, just once, at the ’very interesting scenery’ on the interesting person before him.

If this scenery were not concealed, it would be hard to ignore, especially now when she was on her tiptoes, chest out, head up, hands raised.

Actually, from a certain angle, it’s no wonder that upon seeing Zhu Yourong for the first time, Gui urged Zhao Rong to pursue her for a comfortable living.

This comfortable living would not only suffice for Zhao Rong alone but could probably feed an entire family...

At this moment, Zhu Yourong’s naive and carefree pose also brought a different kind of visual experience.

It highlighted the snug fit of the Confucian robe, emphasizing not only the most noticeable pair that made Zhao Rong secretly worry might break through the clouds and solidify the air at any moment, so large and "square" was the sun, but also outlined all the other beautiful and full curves of her figure.

This was the scenery that had been previously overlooked behind the expansive Confucian robe.

Now, because of a somewhat childish gesture, it lay fully exposed before Zhao Rong... in this light, the one view that could contain all rivers didn’t seem so abrupt.

For Zhao Rong, who had an eye for discovering beauty and an appreciation for it, he had to admit that Zhu Yourong’s figure and curves were indeed excellent, even to the point where only coarse language could straightforwardly describe them.

At this moment, even though it wasn’t his first look, Zhao Rong still couldn’t help but be inwardly amazed.

He worried somewhat for Zhu Yourong, wondering if she might burst the seams of her Confucian robe at any moment, catching him off guard, in disarray...

Then he suddenly became curious about how she previously concealed those curves with binding so tightly, and how uncomfortable that must have been.

If Qing Jun had done so, then Zhao Rong would definitely have been heartbroken. Before, when he saw that his precious wife had small and delicate feet, Zhao Rong had frowned with concern that she might have secretly bound them. However, it seemed Qing Jun then worried Zhao Rong might find them too large and not like them, fearing he harbored disdain, she anxiously asked if she should try binding them, but she was quickly stopped and reassured by Zhao Rong who couldn’t bear the thought...

But now, scrutinizing this Zhu Yourong who seemed a bit different, Zhao Rong just inwardly chided himself for unnecessary worry, while his gaze carried an appreciative hue.

Contemplation, innocence.

Because at this moment, Zhu Yourong, in his eyes, was indeed quite different. Most importantly, it was her inner quality and confidence radiating out.

This was truly what made her dazzling, not just enticing people with her appearance.

Zhao Rong now privately believes that this is the true beauty of a woman... so, do those inspirational messages from a past life that encourage high-level beauty and criticize low-level beauty really not deceive me?

It’s just that if a woman has all of these, then of course, that would be splendid.

Zhao Rong’s expression was solemn as he nodded slightly. Thinking like this, his gaze wandered back to a certain "low-level beauty," eyeing it with a critical look...

And in the moment of someone’s wandering eyes,

Zhu Yourong, who was in a somewhat self-indulgent posture, slightly narrowed her eyes. She glanced from the corner of her eye and suddenly her eyes widened.

The next second, her chest-puffing, head-raising pose collapsed, her movements changing abruptly as she grabbed a stack of papers next to her hand, rolled them up with both hands, and smacked them on this guy’s head with a swiftness that left no time to cover one’s ears.

Smack—!

"What are you looking at?"

Zhu Yourong’s tone was fierce.

Caught in the act.

Zhao Rong: "........."

Zhu Yourong’s face turned fierce, her willow eyes glaring at Zhao Rong, and she brandished the roll of papers in her hand in front of him as if to intimidate, "You were looking around again just now!"

"???"

Zhao Rong’s face was covered in black lines. Why did she use the word ’again’?

Smack—!

Seeing his unconvinced face and his mouth about to argue, Zhu Yourong raised her hand again, lifted it heavily and then gently put it down, tapping Zhao Rong’s head, her expression one of disappointment on a face of sublime beauty.

"It’s hard to have a heart-to-heart talk just once, to have some ambiance, and then you go and mess it all up. You, you, what are you always thinking about in that head of yours."

Her clear and limpid eyes reflected Zhao Rong’s visage, her articulation crisp, in a light and brittle voice,

"I thought you were different from other men. Although, like you’re very eager to disassociate yourself from, not exactly a great man, you still ought to be an extraordinary one. But now, it seems..."

Zhu Yourong pursed her lips, staring at Zhao Rong, silent.

That watery gaze made even Zhao Rong, with his thick skin, feel somewhat guilty, as if he really had done something despicable and sleazy behind her back, something unforgivable that caught her off guard, causing the beauty before him to grieve silently, an unforgivable sin; he might as well clean his neck and take his own life—it just might win a few tears of regret from the lady before him.

But who is Zhao Rong?

If this question were presented when Su Xiaoxiao was present, she would definitely jump up to answer.

Zhao Lang is a bad man.

Then, under Zhao Rong’s silently pleased gaze, the little Fox Demon would definitely spit a few times and correct herself, asserting with a pat on her chest:

’Scholars, the little Zhao Lang is a scholar with a vast heart.

He absolutely wouldn’t do things like pinching, kneading, pressing, biting little Xiaoxiao... and also, also touching, holding, pulling, leading, grasping, extending, arching, thrusting, shaking, slapping... playing the little one, hmm, seems like there’s nothing left, hmm-hmm, he wouldn’t bully Xiaoxiao with these very un-scholarly acts, would he, Zhao Lang?’ (Zhao Rong: ......)

At this moment, beside the writing table.

Zhao Rong leaned back a little, figuring he must have moved out of the striking range of the fierce lady before him.

He looked up at Zhu Yourong, really wanting to tell her earnestly.

It’s absolutely true, you’re right, I’m really not any extraordinary man, just a little son-in-law, Miss Zhu, please don’t think too highly of me, please don’t. What’s that? Yes, that’s right, I am being unappreciative...

However, at this moment, Zhu Yourong also swung at him the pot called indecent and impure thoughts, accusing him of harboring inappropriate ideas, which Zhao Rong just couldn’t tolerate.

He said seriously:

"I wasn’t looking around, and don’t you add a ’again,’ sullying my innocence. I was merely admiring, openly and honestly examining."

Zhu Yourong held a roll of papers in her hand, blocking them in front of her delicate chest, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh really, Zhao Ziyu, you admit you were looking, and now you embellish it further, sugarcoating it with twisted justifications and sophistry. Let me ask you, do you know what you were looking at, did the Supreme Sage ever teach you not to stare where you shouldn’t?"

Zhao Rong replied without hesitation, "Of course I know, whatever bothered me, that’s what I was looking at. As for the Supreme Sage, he’s taught me so much more, even said that you’re a hard one to provide for, and that’s certainly not wrong now, is it?"

Zhu Yourong nodded, so it’s all my fault, right? That I didn’t bind my chest, that made you distracted? And besides, did I eat your family’s rice or waste your family’s fabric? You say I am hard to provide for...

Smack—!

"..."

Zhao Rong was careless, didn’t dodge it, but... so strong, is this what being close to the Nascent Soul stage feels like? It feels utterly unavoidable... damn.

Zhu Yourong tilted her chin up slightly, with a light huff, she glanced sideways at him.

"Ziyu, what was that you said? Could you repeat it, because me, the petite girl from the Teacher’s mouth, didn’t hear it clearly just now."

She tilted her head at Zhao Rong, lips curving up at the corners, yet her voice was tender as never before.