Zhu Yourong’s movements paused slightly, and she opened her lips slightly, "I also heard that Meng Zhengjun’s Ritual Skill assessment seems to be sending the students away from the Academy?"
Zhao Rong’s eyes narrowed in appreciation of the writing, the corners of his mouth curled slightly.
Where did you hear that, so much... truth?
"Yes, tomorrow is the last deadline, and it should be finalized and announced," she replied.
Zhu Yourong appeared calm and graceful, continuing to write with one hand while the other hung by her side.
She seemed to be just slightly concerned and then said no more.
Not far away, Yu Huaijin and Jingzi, seeing that it was merely an ordinary teacher-student conversation with nothing amiss, shifted their attention slightly away.
Zhu Yourong’s eyes shifted downward to the paper on the table, she suddenly instructed, "Ziyu, open your hand and help me hold down the paper."
Yu Huaijin and Jingzi once again glanced unconsciously at the two having a normal conversation at the desk, thought nothing of it, and moved their gaze away.
However, that remark, when heard by Zhao Rong, held another layer of meaning...
"Alright, Teacher," he responded.
Zhao Rong nodded, his hand which was previously supporting the desk stretched out and opened.
To help Zhu Yourong press down and secure the document she was writing.
Meanwhile, under the desk, his other hand, shielded from view, also extended its slender fingers.
Zhao Rong’s eyes did not drift towards the space under the desk.
His expression remained usual.
So did Zhu Yourong’s.
All was said without words.
At that moment, Zhao Rong’s other hand felt the ’Jade Hand’ that had previously tugged at his sleeve release.
Zhao Rong quietly waited for a while.
The next second, a soft and cool sensation touched the center of his hand, as if a spring breeze was warming his heart.
It was Zhu Yourong’s ’Jade Hand’ resting beneath the table, pressing on his palm.
This was their first intimate contact.
Zhao Rong felt a gentle tingling sensation where their hands met.
Like a mild current flowing quietly at the point where their skin touched.
However, he didn’t know what she was feeling at that moment, whether it was the same?
Zhao Rong glanced sideways at Zhu Yourong.
She was biting her red lips lightly, her gaze intensely focused on her writing, a look of unprecedented concentration on her face.
It seemed that at that moment, the fair fingers that touched his palm under the table were not hers.
Nevertheless, Zhao Rong still noticed some slight disturbances.
The ’Brushwork’ Zhu Yourong was writing... became slightly frantic.
Under the desk, their hands touched each other.
It gave them both a momentary pause and silence.
Just then, Zhao Rong knew what Zhu Yourong was about to do.
Under the rosewood table, Zhu Yourong’s bold, green onion-like finger moved.
In Zhao Rong’s palm, it sketched stroke by stroke.
Zhao Rong found this amusing.
He looked up expressionlessly and glanced at the other three girls in the study at that moment.
They seemed not to have noticed the slightly improper act going on under the table and were all doing their own things.
Yu Huaijin was playing the zither at another side of the room.
Bi Fang sat on a round rosewood stool with her legs curled and had pulled out a bright red pouch, eating some quirky snacks.
Jingzi was leaning close to Bi Fang.
She looked enviously at the latter eating, her mouth continuously moving.
Although her voice was low, it was still chirping, seemingly naturally close to Bi Fang.
However, in Zhao Rong’s eyes, this closeness carried a strange timidity with it.
For instance, at this moment, the tender girl called Bi Fang seemed reluctant to share snacks with Jingzi.
The blue-clothed girl had no choice but to open her mouth slightly and watch helplessly.
Everything in the study appeared normal.
Well, except for him and Zhu Yourong.
Zhao Rong added this thought in his mind.
Although Yu Huaijin, Jingzi, and Bi Fang occasionally looked their way, they seemed not to notice the subtle movements under the desk of the two in front of them.
Phew, how thrilling it feels...
Zhao Rong thought subconsciously.
But immediately, he cast these thoughts aside as the word Zhu Yourong was tracing with her ’Jade Finger’ as a pencil in his left palm was almost complete.
After feeling it for a while, Zhao Rong thought to himself.
What did she mean by writing ’Yong’?
As soon as Zhu Yourong finished the last stroke, she quietly withdrew her hand, just as she had quietly come.
Appearing as if nothing had happened, poised and peaceful.
Just at the moment she wrote that strange ’Yong’ character.
Zhao Rong didn’t know if it was an illusion, but his palm felt slightly warm.
Zhao Rong laughed silently to himself.
As for what Zhu Yourong’s sudden action meant...
Uh, the surface calm and intellectual female teacher actually had a passionate, rebellious heart, seeking thrills under everyone’s gaze while doing secret things with a male student at the table?
Indeed, the more dignified and elegant, the more unrestrained.
The more people there are, the more thrilling it is.
Thinking this, Zhao Rong slightly furrowed his brow.
He decided that if writing just now was merely a flirtatious probe, should Zhu Yourong make a bolder move next, he must resolutely refuse.
Let her maintain her dignity.
Zhao Rong nodded secretly to himself and continued to extend his hand.
But he waited a long while, and Zhu Yourong made no further move.
Moreover, Zhao Rong noticed that the characters she was writing had steadied down, as if her thoughts were becoming immersed.
Was it because of his unyielding righteous aura pressing down, dissuading her?
Strayed but returned? That would actually save trouble.
Zhao Rong coughed lightly, then thought again about the inexplicable ’Yong’ character from before.
He said sternly, "The character I taught you last time is already well down, from now on... there’s no need to write it again."