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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 75: Two Sessions of Pure Conversation

The debate's stakes had been agreed upon.

Zhao Rong returned to her seat with a stern face.

The little Fox Demon, who had just done what she thought was the boldest thing in her life, quietly followed behind Zhao Rong.

Su Xiaoxiao, with a taut face, stole another glance at Zhao Rong's expression, and her eyes unconsciously squinted, containing a hint of amusement as she coughed twice crisply.

Zhao Rong didn't turn her head, just kept walking forward with a sullen face.

"Zhao Rong, that... what is a 'cauldron' exactly?"

Zhao Rong sharply turned her head, her lips pressed tightly as she stared at the little Fox Demon, silent.

Su Xiaoxiao pouted her lips, her face innocent, locked in a stare down with him.

After a moment, Zhao Rong gave in.

The young Confucian Scholar furrowed his brow, "You really don't know?"

The little Fox Demon's head shook like a rattle-drum.