My Wife Is A Sword Immortal
Chapter 575 - 368 The moonlight shines in front of the bed, two shoes on the ground

Chapter 575: Chapter 368 The moonlight shines in front of the bed, two shoes on the ground

Little Qian’er, whose head was patted, only wished she were taller, like her young lady, so that when the rascal sat down, he wouldn’t be able to reach her head.

However, that would also mean sacrificing the comfortable height difference she had with Zhao Rong.

Because as it was, when she threw herself into Zhao Rong’s embrace, she could perfectly settle in the most comfortable position, even if she had to stand on tiptoe to do certain things...

At the moment, the young girl’s mind wasn’t wandering in wild fantasies, for she had more pressing matters to attend to.

Zhao Qian’er suddenly caught hold of Zhao Rong’s sleeve, bowed her head quietly for a moment, and said softly,

"You said you wanted to put me at the front... so, write a poem for me now. It doesn’t have to be great, Qian’er will like it as long as it’s written by you."

Looking at the shy figure of the little girl, Zhao Rong pondered, "Do you really want me to write it?"

Zhao Qian’er turned her face away, modestly nodding her delicate chin.

There was still a bit of baby fat on the side of her face, pale and tender, and Zhao Rong really wanted to pinch it hard. Hmm, a pinch should make her cry for a long time, right?

Zhao Rong suddenly smiled, stepped forward, rolled up his sleeves, and started writing.

Unaware that her own cheeks were ’in danger,’ Zhao Qian’er kept an eye on him, and when she saw Zhao Rong finally agree to write, she let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Zhao Qian’er smiled faintly, walked to one side to pour him a cup of tea to moisten his throat, but the next second, Zhao Rong’s voice suddenly came from behind her,

"Done, a masterpiece accomplished."

Zhao Qian’er was startled, turned around to look, and saw Zhao Rong putting down his brush with a smile. He was bending over to blow on the newly written lines on the paper.

From her angle, the ink on the paper, still not dry, shimmered slightly under the lamplight, indistinct to the eye.

"Brother Rong’er, you’re done so soon?"

Zhao Qian’er covered her slightly agape mouth with her right hand, wondering how it seemed he had finished within seven breaths?

Looking around at the other scholars, most of them were deep in thought. It had been two incense sticks’ worth of time, yet they hadn’t completed a single poem...

"What did you expect? Let me tell you, silly girl, the idea of making a poem in seven steps is nothing compared to me. Your Brother Rong’er can make a poem in seven breaths, including the time to roll up my sleeves. Anything more and I admit defeat," he said with another deadpan proclamation.

Someone was spouting nonsense again.

Zhao Qian’er listened, stunned.

The surrounding scholars: "......"

Zhao Rong, dressed as a dashing scholar in white, tossed his elegant headband behind his head, stood in front of the desk, straightened his back, his posture casual.

He didn’t pay attention to the mournful glances from Gu Yiwu and the others but turned his handsome profile to the crowd, while his eyes peeked at the slightly pouting girl and he winked.

It’s not my fault that I’m fast, it’s theirs for being too slow.

"Seven breaths to make a poem..." Zhao Qian’er murmured with a rich curiosity in her eyes and quickly approached the desk.

The last time at the Duke Mansion of Great Chu when Zhao Rong was coaxed into writing a ’birthday verse’ for her, the scene had made her heart flutter. That memory was still vivid in her mind.

And this time... Eh, is it a five-character quatrain?

She leaned her hands on the desk edge, gazed at the poem, and unconsciously recited softly:

"Before my bed, the moon is bright? Uh, before my bed, the moon is bright... on the ground, shoes... shoes three pairs... I look up at my father-in-law, I look down to... to help... help the miss."

"...to help the miss?!"

The girl, tilting her head as she read on, spoke in an increasingly faint whisper, until at last, there was no sound at all, her lips motionless, her expression frozen on her little face.

She widened her eyes as she read this five-character... pshh, no, clearly, it was a limerick!

Before my bed, the moon is bright, beneath it lies three pairs of shoes. Looking up, I see my father-in-law, looking down, I assist the miss.

Zhao Qian’er’s face flushed to her ears in a moment, as if smeared and blended with rouge, glowing radiantly.

"Ahem." Zhao Rong gave a light cough and, with a finger to his lips, gestured for her to be quieter.

He glanced around, grateful that everyone was busy with their own work and no one was paying attention here.

What Zhao Rong hadn’t expected was that after seeing this gesture, the young girl’s cheeks turned even redder, seemingly... misinterpreting its meaning.

Zhao Qian’er blushed in an instant, lunged forward, her arms splayed across covering the bizarre poem tightly and securely, not allowing a glimpse of light to pass through.

First, she buried her head as if dying of embarrassment between her arms and then suddenly raised her head, her big peach-blossom eyes glaring at Brother Rong’er, her small sharp teeth grinding forcefully.

Creak creak—

Zhao Qian’er presented a fierce little look as if to say ’just wait, I’m going to eat you up and that will be the end of you.’

Zhao Rong blinked, his expression revealing a hint of innocence.

What are you talking about? How can I not understand a thing?

Zhao Qian’er felt even more embarrassed, her chest heaving.

It was like when you were little, not only did you cross your female classmate’s no-go line, but you accidentally kissed her lips. Then you spit in disgust before she could, and hmph, it was like being hauled off to the Teacher...

The commotion between the two quickly drew curious glances from many of the Justice Hall scholars. Alas, what are Mr. Zhao and Fairy Qian’er up to this time?

At that moment, Zhao Qian’er wished she could find a hole to crawl into and wouldn’t dare let this limerick under her arms see the light of day.

She had only a half-understanding of certain matters before.

Only in the dead of night, nestled in her bed, had she daydreamed about ’how things would be’ with Brother Rong’er, drifting off to sleep with a happy smile behind a veil of haze.