Afterward, unable to suppress her lively young nature, Qian’er suggested that since it was still early, they might as well take a stroll through the bustling streets of Hanjing.
Li Bai agreed without a second thought, slapping the table in approval.
Zhao Rong, speechless, shook his head in refusal as he still had to discuss matters with Gu Yiwu and others later.
Qian’er pouted, no longer inclined to go, but under Uncle Li Bai’s mournful gaze, she still took him shopping for clothes.
Zhao Rong smiled, shook his head, tidied up, and then went out to find Gu Yiwu and the students of Justice Hall.
About an hour and a half passed.
Within a certain room, Zhao Rong and Gu Yiwu, together with all the students, had a detailed discussion about the meeting tonight with the Du Gushi. Then, everyone expressed their opinions on the matter of the Fengshan Grand Ceremony. After assigning the tasks for the next few days, they dispersed.
Zhao Rong, with his sleeves rolled up, leisurely returned to the courtyard where he was staying and saw that it was pitch-dark from afar.
"This mischievous girl, not back yet."
He chuckled and shook his head, then casually pushed open the door to the courtyard and strolled into the main house.
In the pitch-black house, Zhao Rong pulled out a match, blew on the sparks, and lit the oil lamp on the eight immortals table. The orange flame instantly brightened, but the next second, with a snap, the candlelight suddenly went out.
It turned out that the young Confucian Scholar had forcefully grabbed the flame.
Clenching his fist, he extinguished the sole source of light in the room.
Because in that split second when the candlelight illuminated the room, Zhao Rong saw a snow-white, eye-catching ’something’ on the bed.
"Su...Fairy Su? What...what are you doing?" Zhao Rong’s eyelids twitched uncontrollably, the scene from just a moment ago enough to make one’s eyes twitch.
In the darkness, the woman tilted her head, "Sleeping. And...warming the bed for you."
As she said the last few words, her voice was as fine as a mosquito’s buzz.
"But, Fairy Su, don’t you have your own room?"
Her voice was crisp and cold, but at this moment, it carried a petulant tone that she only showed to her destined beloved.
"That room is cold. After I came back and saw you weren’t here, I came looking for you. I thought you might be cold too, so I...I wanted to warm it up for you."
Zhao Rong frowned, his tone a bit stiff, "You are already at the level of Heavenly Will Realm cultivation, how could you still feel cold? And I, too, have some minor cultivation, enough to negate the effects of heat and cold. There is no need for Fairy Su to warm the bed for me."
He knew his words were blunt, in that aloof bachelor sort of way, but he said it nonetheless.
The young Confucian Scholar turned to look outside, somewhat worried that if Qian’er returned now, it would be quite the ’caught in bed’ scenario.
On the bed, Su Qingdai, who had mustered the courage to do something bold, was momentarily stunned.
She bit her red lips hard, staring at the man’s silhouette in front of the table in the darkness.
"It’s not my body that’s cold...it’s my heart."
She stated seriously.
How straightforward can you get? How is this young master supposed to respond?
Seeing that he remained silent, the woman warming the bed on the couch softly said:
"You promised me before that you wouldn’t call me Fairy Su anymore."
Zhao Rong was speechless.
PS: Refreshing in the morning～
She waved her little hand.
Watching Qian’er’s little face light up with excitement, Zhao Rong’s mouth twitched slightly, but he didn’t mind.
Afterward, unable to suppress her lively young nature, Qian’er suggested that since it was still early, they might as well take a stroll through the bustling streets of Hanjing.
Li Bai agreed without a second thought, slapping the table in approval.
Zhao Rong, speechless, shook his head in refusal as he still had to discuss matters with Gu Yiwu and others later.
Qian’er pouted, no longer inclined to go, but under Uncle Li Bai’s mournful gaze, she still took him shopping for clothes.
Zhao Rong smiled, shook his head, tidied up, and then went out to find Gu Yiwu and the students of Justice Hall.
About an hour and a half passed.
Zhao Rong rolled up his sleeves, strolling back to the lodging courtyard, noticing from afar that it was pitch-dark.
"This mischievous girl, still not back yet."
He chuckled, shaking his head, and casually pushed open the courtyard gate, leisurely stepping into the main house.
In the pitch-black room, Zhao Rong took out a firestarter, blew on the sparks, and lit the oil lamp atop the eight-immortal table. An orange glow burst to life momentarily, but the very next second, with a snap, the candlelight suddenly went out.
It turned out the young Confucian Scholar had hastily grabbed at the candle flame. She flicked her hand.
Looking at the somewhat excited little Qian’er, Zhao Rong’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t mind.
Then Qian’er, unable to suppress her playful youthful nature, suggested that it was still early, and they should go for a walk on the bustling streets of Hanjing.
Li Bai agreed without a second thought, slapping the table and exclaiming with approval.
Zhao Rong was speechless, shaking his head in refusal, as he had to discuss matters with Gu Yiwu and the others shortly.
Qian’er pouted, no longer wanting to go, but under the plaintive gaze of Uncle Li Bai, she still took him along to go shopping for clothes.
Zhao Rong smiled and shook his head, tidied up a bit, then went out to find Gu Yiwu and the students of Justice Hall.
Approximately an hour and a half later.
Inside a certain room, Zhao Rong and Gu Yiwu, along with all the students, had a detailed discussion about the meeting with the Dugu clan that night. Then, everyone shared their thoughts on the up-coming Fengshan Ceremony, arranged and assigned their respective tasks for the following days, and dispersed.
Zhao Rong rolled up his sleeves, strolling back to the lodging courtyard, noticing from afar that it was pitch-dark.
"This mischievous girl, still not back yet."
He chuckled, shaking his head, and casually pushed open the courtyard gate, leisurely stepping into the main house.
In the pitch-black room, Zhao Rong took out a firestarter, blew on the sparks, and lit the oil lamp atop the eight-immortal table. An orange glow burst to life momentarily, but the very next second, with a snap, the candlelight suddenly went out.
It turned out the young Confucian Scholar had hastily grabbed at the candle flame.