My Wife Is A Sword Immortal
Chapter 426 - 301: Two Teachers and Students, Two Master and Servant - Part 2

Chapter 426: Chapter 301: Two Teachers and Students, Two Master and Servant - Part 2

She merely saw Zhao Rong arriving at the door, and just like her sister Fish, her little face tightened, adopting an expression as if facing a great enemy.

At this moment, Jingzi also moved a small stool and sat beside the desk, her big, round eyes circling around Zhao Rong and Zhu Yourong.

Bi Fang, meanwhile, was snacking greedily on the side while sneakily glancing at Zhao Rong.

Such a tightly guarded formation, even a fool could see what it implied.

Zhao Rong found himself quite speechless, and he really wanted to tell them seriously that it was unnecessary.

He and Zhu Yourong at present had the kind of relationship where they shared similar interests, which accounted for their seemingly seamless interaction, not what they were thinking.

But Zhao Rong knew without trying, that explanations were pointless.

It seemed reasonable.

If it was between men, or between women, being close friends was not a problem but with a man and a woman...

Usually, in romantic novels, such situations always seemed to evolve toward intimate friendships and emotions developing over time.

Thinking this, Zhao Rong quite understood Huaijin and Jingzi’s worries.

At the same time, he also started to question his previous firm belief in the purity of his friendship with Zhu Yourong, feeling somewhat shaken.

Perhaps it was something to be cautious about after all...

Zhao Rong quietly stood in front of the desk, looking up at Zhu Yourong, who was intently focusing on her writing, head down.

Her profile was calm and serious, not even looking at him.

She showed no additional reaction to the many onlookers in the study.

Zhu Yourong remained focused on her calligraphy, the art she adored.

Zhao Rong suddenly felt that such a woman, even disregarding physical appearance, identity, or demeanor, was indeed extremely beautiful.

His gaze revealed genuine admiration.

This kind of woman should only be approached by the topmost gentlemen of the world.

Uh, himself excluded, of course.

Zhao Rong shamelessly categorized himself within a certain group without blushing or skipping a beat.

He already had Qing Jun and Little Little.

Previously, he had thought to avoid any romantic entanglements, which was why he had been avoiding Mister Zhu.

But plans could not keep up with changes; the first time he skipped class, he got caught and was sent back by her.

Now, agreeing to teach Zhu Yourong calligraphy was also influenced by her convictions and experiences.

The two of them also got along harmoniously, enjoying their conversations.

However, Zhao Rong knew, and he knew that Zhu Yourong, esteemed as ’Confucian Scholar of the highest order,’ also understood.

For either of them, one more step closer was tremendously dangerous, whether taken by one or both together.

Between them, there was a red line.

This was the invisible yet ever-present Confucian ritual personified.

He was a student, she was a superior.

Unless their statuses could change, crossing that line meant standing against millions of Confucian scholars.

This understanding, though unspoken, existed between Zhao Rong and Zhu Yourong.

Yet reflecting on their recent interactions, Zhao Rong thought that perhaps they indeed had gotten too close.

Therefore, it was no surprise that there were now several pairs of keen eyes on the sidelines.

Perhaps indeed, there were too few comrades in the realm of calligraphy, which had made them instantly connect, irresistibly...

He was actually very confident in himself.

He wouldn’t actively take that step.

Many men tend to mistakenly assume interest from a woman, based on an ambiguous glance or a gesture of closeness...

Zhao Rong understood this mentality, as he was the same.

Zhao Rong used to worry that Teacher Zhu’s benevolence towards him might have changed...

And now it seemed...

In the quiet study, Zhao Rong carefully observed Teacher Zhu, whose expression remained usual; she didn’t spare him another glance.

Zhao Rong blinked.

He felt his worries were somewhat superfluous.

Ah, it’s all because of those improper novels and films from past lives that had ’poisoned’ him...

So to speak, under the current circumstances.

Whenever Zhao Rong came to see this Teacher Zhu, Huaijin and Jingzi would most likely be present, accompanying them.

Each had their own needs.

He taught Teacher Zhu calligraphy, helping her with two academic calligraphy classes.

She helped Zhao Rong collect Zhengguan Spring Water, assisting his cultivation.

Occasionally, they would both enjoy a profound conversation about calligraphy.

This kind of interaction, Zhao Rong thought, was also quite good.

And this was indeed real life, not as those books describe, developing in an improper direction...

"Brother Zhao."

Huaijin’s voice suddenly broke the silence.

It shattered the study’s tranquility.

Zhao Rong came to his senses and realized he had been staring at Zhu Yourong for quite some time; Huaijin was looking at him expressionlessly.

Besides, Jingzi and Bi Fang’s eyes were also on him.

Zhao Rong coughed awkwardly.

As Zhu Yourong, who had been peacefully writing, paused with her brush, glanced briefly at Zhao Rong with a plain look, then lowered her head to resume her writing.

After about an hour, the night had deepened gradually.

During this time, Zhao Rong was somewhat surprised by the progress of Zhu Yourong’s calligraphy; she indeed possessed remarkable talent.

Many brushwork techniques and decisions she could grasp the essence of after just being taught once.

Even the aspect of grasping the concept quickly and applying it creatively.

Their conversations were also conducted with propriety and decorum.

After a while, Zhao Rong glanced out the window and then spoke up to take his leave.

Zhu Yourong bowed politely, quietly saying, "Thank you for your guidance, Ziyu."

Seeing this, Zhao Rong also bowed with great respect, "Mr. Zhu is too courteous."

Zhu Yourong smiled, shaking her head, and then they agreed on the next time Zhao Rong would come ’for tea.’

Afterward, she had Jing Zi escort Zhao Rong out of Yilan Pavilion.

Not long after Zhao Rong and Jing Zi had left,

Yu Huaijin also took his leave, departing with Bi Fang.

Zhu Yourong stood quietly behind her desk, watching everyone leave.

She looked around the now empty room, which grew quiet.

At one moment, Zhu Yourong’s brow furrowed slightly, she raised her hand to her chest and then quickly walked behind the screen,

soon, she removed something annoying yet necessary and returned to her desk.

Having freed herself of one constraint, Zhu Yourong took a deep breath.

She turned to look at the western window.

On the windowsill, a pot of pristine white orchids swayed in the pitch-dark wind.

Leaning forward into the brightly lit interior one moment, then falling back into the dim night the next.

Her gaze moved beyond the orchids to the darkness beyond,

where the solemn, rigid buildings of the Confucian Academy, modeled after the Central Continent Confucian Temple, hid in the night.

They lined up in a row, like a dark, high wall arising, connecting with the skyline.

Thus they stood rigidly in Zhu Yourong’s view, filling her eyes with a heavy darkness, also cutting off the distance beyond.

Zhu Yourong quickly walked to the window, took the orchids inside, and tightly closed the window, turning away with the orchid in her arms.

The room was bright and glaring, the light silently resolute.

Zhu Yourong looked down at the orchids in the pot, blooming alone, fragrantly admiring themselves.

Suddenly, she smiled.

With a light laugh, Zhu Yourong returned to her desk, placed the pot on the table, laid out her paper and prepared her ink, and continued to immerse herself in writing.

The orchids, calligraphy, and this quiet study.

These were all rewards she had fought for.

She was already content.

No longer longing for anything else.

...

At the Academy, in the southeast corner, a hidden path through the woods.

It was pitch dark.

Two shadows were moving along.

The night was moonless.

Barely visible, these two figures, one frail and short, the other slender and tall.

The shorter one walked in front.

The taller followed behind.

The two moved silently along.

At a certain stretch of the dark path, where the trees alongside were sparse, light from the brightly lit buildings outside penetrated the woods, casting several slanting beams of light.

Dust floated in the pale yellow beams.

At one moment, the two figures successively passed through these slanted light beams.

Briefly illuminating their features as swiftly as a shooting star.

The one in front carried himself with composure, with a stern face.

The one behind, dressed in blue, delicately held a fiery red embroidered bag in her left hand.

In the darkness.

"Young master."

The voice came from the slender girl behind.

The stern girl in front continued to walk quietly, without making a sound.

Then there was silence once more between them.

After a moment,

the slender girl suddenly said:

"Young master, I want to eat him."

"That’s not allowed."

The stern girl’s voice was calm, her tone unquestionable.

"Oh."

The slender girl softly responded, falling silent again, only idly fiddling with the food bag for a while and then smacking her lips.

He looked very tasty, and his surname was Zhao...

She liked him a lot.