My Wife Is A Sword Immortal
Chapter 423 - 300 - Just Craving for it (Request for monthly tickets, brothers!)_2

Chapter 423: Chapter 300 - Just Craving for it (Request for monthly tickets, brothers!)_2

"I won’t let you enjoy that."

Her tone was chiding, with autumnal eyes and flushed cheeks. She glowered at Zhao Rong, her gaze a mix of longing and reproach, sorrow and joy, tenderness and firmness...

The myriad of feelings and the bittersweet pangs of separation that entwined a woman’s heart,

were all conveyed in that one glance as she looked up.

Zhao Rong was stunned, blinking.

"Qian’er, let’s go back to the manor."

Lingfei didn’t glance again at her husband, who seemed to always harbor ’bad intentions’; she turned and left.

This wicked man had bluntly and confidently spoken of lusting after her body.

Lingfei didn’t know whether to be annoyed or pleased.

Reaping the benefits and still playing coy... Don’t know how to enjoy it? Then just don’t enjoy it at all!

And, can’t you be more subtle... like she was, desiring every bit of her beloved, the only one in her heart ... also craving his body ... yet always keeping it hidden within, never to be spoken aloud...

The woman came in a sweep of purple robes, and just as majestically, she left.

With an elegance that revealed her tall frame and graceful demeanor.

Zhao Rong stood there, watching his wife’s proud and coquettish retreat, unable to suppress a smile.

He raised his hand as if to touch his nose but thinking the gesture a bit odd, he let it fall.

Zhao Rong felt there was nothing wrong with craving his wife’s body. If he said he didn’t, Qing Jun would likely flay him.

And his remark about ’how to enjoy it’ was also true.

She possessed the physique of a Sword Cultivator at the pinnacle of the Vast Realm, whereas Zhao Rong was at the bottleneck of the Ascending Realm’s physique.

Indeed, he found it somewhat difficult to handle, and when it came to ’craving the body,’ Qing Jun was quite insistent.

Probably only after ascending to the Fu Yao Realm would she relent...

So, he was just sighing a bit, venting some minor frustrations.

Nevertheless, Qing Jun’s flustered arrogance was quite endearing.

Watching her receding figure, Zhao Rong chuckled softly.

At the same time, he pondered seriously about his recent cultivation matters...

"Big brother Rong’er, I, I want to as well."

At that moment, a soft and tender voice suddenly came from beside him.

Zhao Rong returned to his senses and saw a little girl.

Qian’er was holding her belly, looking aggrieved, feeling too full to eat any more.

She sniffed, looking at big brother Rong’er pitifully.

Zhao Rong also felt a bit embarrassed, having been so affectionate with Qing Jun that he almost forgot about the girl.

He suddenly nodded as if he remembered something important.

He then took out several apricot leaves and envelopes from his sleeve.

Qian’er’s mood brightened instantly, and with a wave of her hand, she snatched them.

As she bowed her head to look, before she could even delightfully speak,

Zhao Rong’s words doused the little flame of excitement in her heart like a bucket of cold water.

"Good Qian’er, help me send a few letters out."

Qian’er: "..."

"Ahem, you always keep in touch with Great Chu, right?"

Qian’er nodded her head dejectedly, "Mmhm ... wuwu."

Zhao Rong rubbed her head, styled as a young man’s.

"Send this one to Teacher Fang, and one to Zhongnan Country..."

After a while, the little girl took her leave.

Before leaving, she turned back every two steps to remind him not to forget his promise of poetry and letters, just as a young lady would.

Zhao Rong agreed with a helpless smile.

Not long after.

Looking in the direction where his wife and Qian’er had gone, he breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to glance behind him.

It seemed he would be busy in the coming days.

...

Linlu Academy, Nanxuan Academy.

From a distance, one could see wisp of smoke rising from a small courtyard in the front.

A young Confucian Scholar with a book in hand flipped through the pages while he steadily approached.

On his way back, Zhao Rong had stopped by the academy’s library to borrow books.

However, he hadn’t gone up to the seventh floor to meet with that Yang Wuwei just yet.

Some matters, he was still unsure about.

Moreover, returning home, he expected that a certain someone who liked to maintain a stern face would be giving Zhao Rong make-up lessons in music and painting later that evening.

It was best to get prepared before making an acquaintance upstairs.

Now, as dusk approached, he stood before the courtyard gate.

Squeak——

Zhao Rong pushed the door open, his head down as he flipped through a book.

He was greeted by the scent of dinner cooking and the crackling of burning firewood.

He sniffed and smiled, not lifting his head as he walked straight toward the north chamber.

Passing by the fields, he approached the northern room when Zhao Rong turned a page, ready to open the door, but suddenly paused.

In the corner of his eye, he noticed a blue shadow bounding about.

He stood on the stoop, closed his book, and turned to look.

There, at the eastern corner of the yard near the fence, was a slender girl in a blue dress, her back to Zhao Rong.

She was leaning against the fence with her bottom half, bending over with her upper body leaning forward, reaching inside the fence, her body bouncing up and down.

From the back, he couldn’t see the girl’s face.

He had never seen such a figure before. A new visitor?

But at this moment, her posture...

His lips twitched slightly.

Zhao Rong walked towards the eastern fence, deliberately circling around to no longer face the direction where the girl’s backside was exactly lined up.

He feared coming too close might lead to unnecessary misunderstandings.

Zhao Rong, having ample experience in avoiding awkward and potentially mortifying situations, tactfully moved with endearing caution.

As he drew closer,

he quickly reached her side.

It was only then that Zhao Rong saw what the girl was doing.

The corner of his eye twitched involuntarily.

The slender girl turned out to be picking the autumn chrysanthemums he and Teng Ying had cultivated.

As she leaned over, one hand bracing the fence, the other stretched out straight in front of her,

this ’chrysanthemum thief’ was aiming for the tallest and longest chrysanthemum in the blossoming cluster.

Though she seemed tall enough, she was struggling to reach it, hopping up and down, trying hard, yet still coming up short.