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My Wife Is A Sword Immortal

Upon opening his eyes, there before him was a bridal chamber adorned with red candles and windows. A bride dressed in a phoenix coronet and robes of rank sat upright on the nuptial bed, her face covered by a red bridal veil. Zhao Rong rubbed his sleepy eyes, "Have I become a groom? Oh, and a junior one at that." Understood. His facial expression brewed for a moment before he twisted his mouth into a smile, "Wait a second..." Huh, something's amiss. The bride is my childhood sweetheart who also harbored a crush on me? Oh, then that's alright. This is very fitting. Zhao Rong stepped forward, happily lifting the red bridal veil, "Hey hey, my lady, where are you running off to?" ------------- In the great era of contention, the tide of the times surged forth, and Confucian Scholar Zhao Rong bravely faced it head-on. Not only did he seek to catch up to the footsteps of his childhood sweetheart turned Sword Immortal Lady, but he also wished to witness firsthand the dispute that engulfed more than half of the Cultivation World, the strife among the various schools of thought... ————— [Slow-burn], [Non-cliché], [Non-level-up], [Romance plot], [Sweet without the angst] This book is also known as "I Have a Fox Fairy Wife", "Rebirth: I Deliver Parcels in the Otherworld", "Zhao Ziyu, The Smirking Scholar" "I Really Don't Want to Be a Kept Man"...

Yang Xiaorong · Huyền huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
245 Chs

Chapter 143: Qing Jun, Let's Go

Lingfei smiled beautifully like a blooming flower.

Gazing southward.

It felt as if the mountain ranges and seas separating them were merely within sight.

Her beloved was right before her eyes.

Almost everyone watching her in this pose hardly doubted whose silhouette filled Lingfei's eyes and heart at that moment.

However.

In a Heart Lake Lotus Pond unknown to others.

A vibrant Qinglian, originally swaying gently, began to sway more and more intensely.

Within the Lotus Pond.

It was as if a silent storm was rampaging in all directions.

A Qinglian, a pool of silt, two Flying Swords.

All were affected by the storm, none spared.

The deep black silt, like fine sand, accumulated deeper and deeper, submerging the lotus roots.

The Flying Swords, originally half-buried in the silt, now showed less and less of their blades as the silt piled up.

Lingfei gazed at the distant mountains, her smile unchanged.