Chapter 40. Isn't the melon sweet?

Tang Xiaoning fought a fierce and arduous battle, engaging in close combat with the pile of cyan-gold glass beads and black silk threads.

Ten slender fingers suffered greatly from the "poisoning" of needles, leaving behind tiny red needle marks, and the ruined silk threads were tangled into countless tragic "thread corpses".

Finally, a finished product, which embodies her "blood and tears" and "persistence," and which we'll tentatively call the sword tassel, was born.

The lapis lazuli beads were strung together at varying heights and at different angles.

The necklaces made of black silk threads are of different sizes and shapes, looking like balls of yarn that have been roughly handled by a naughty cat.

Only the largest glass bead was relatively straight, and on it was an abstract swallow that she had embroidered and unembroidered countless times, finally managing to take shape.

Without careful examination, one would likely mistake it for a splatter of ink.

Holding this "shocking" masterpiece in her hands, her heart pounded wildly in her chest.

She ran briskly into the courtyard, where Li Minghua was sitting on a stone bench, as always intently wiping her sword, which gleamed with a cold light.

"Minghua! Look!" Tang Xiaoning held up the object in her hand high as if presenting a treasure, and jumped in front of Li Minghua.

Her cheeks were flushed with a healthy rosy glow from running and excitement, and her almond-shaped eyes shone brightly, clearly displaying three words: Fast! Praise! Me!

Li Minghua paused in his action of wiping the sword.

Her gaze shifted from the smooth blade to the visually striking "sword tassel" that Tang Xiaoning was holding in both hands.

The air froze for a full three seconds.

In those three seconds, Li Minghua's gaze was extremely focused, moving from the crooked glass bead to the tangled necklace, and finally settling on the abstract swallow whose wing shape could barely be discerned.

She stared at it for a while, as if examining a profound map.

As Tang Xiaoning's silence dragged on, her heart sank deeper and deeper. Her bright eyes quickly dimmed, and her lips twitched down in a wronged expression.

Even her voice trembled with a pitiful tone: "...Is it...so ugly it's unbelievable, you can't even show it off?"

She almost wanted to pull her hand back and hide it behind her back.

Li Minghua finally raised his head, his deep gaze not falling on the sword tassel, but on Tang Xiaoning's instantly crumbling face and watery eyes.

She didn't answer directly whether it was beautiful or not; instead, she reached out and solemnly accepted the "masterpiece" that was full of heartfelt sentiment.

Her fingertips, calloused, gently brushed against the slightly crooked, bluish-gold glass bead, the touch warm and cool.

Then, she carefully touched the little swallow embroidered with dark silk thread with her fingertips, as if to confirm its existence.

“It’s not bad-looking.” She said, her tone serious and calm, just like Li Minghua’s, without the slightest hint of trying to please or being perfunctory.

“The beads,” she paused, as if searching for the most accurate description, “are very bright.”

Finally, his gaze returned to the swallow: "The swallow... has a lot of charm."

Although this "spirit" requires a great deal of imagination to capture.

Tang Xiaoning's dim eyes suddenly lit up like stars, shining brightly once more: "Really?!"

She asked with delight, her voice rising several decibels.

"Yes." Li Minghua nodded affirmatively, then displayed her usual decisive and pragmatic style.

She deftly removed the old, worn-out tassel from the hilt of her sword.

Then, she carefully tied the brand-new, vibrant, clumsy, and unique sword tassel, full of "Tang Xiaoning style," to her sword.

After fastening the sword, she even gently shook the hilt.

Looking at the string of crooked glass beads and the abstract swallow necklace, tracing awkward yet remarkably vivid arcs in the air, she added, "Very sturdy."

For her, this seemed to be a quality more important than appearance.

Tang Xiaoning's gaze followed closely to the "Little Swallow" dangling from the sword of her beloved.

Overwhelmed by a burning sense of satisfaction and a strong sense of belonging, she was far more excited than if she had received any of the world's most precious jewelry.

Like her mark, her heartfelt sentiment, she would be inseparable from Li Minghua from now on, experiencing the ups and downs of life together.

"That's right!" Overjoyed, she proudly raised her delicate chin, like a proud little peacock. "I even wrapped the button around the button seven or eight times! I guarantee it won't come off no matter the wind or rain!"

Suddenly, she remembered something and grabbed Li Minghua's hand, which she had just put down the wiping cloth: "Wait, let me see your hand!"

Although Li Minghua was somewhat confused, he obediently opened his palm.

It was the hand of a woman who practiced martial arts. It was not delicate or fair. The palm and fingertips were covered with thin, evenly distributed calluses from years of wielding a sword. The knuckles were distinct, the lines were long and powerful, and it contained a sense of steady strength.

Tang Xiaoning carefully used her fingertips, which had faint needle marks, to gently stroke the slightly rough calluses on Li Minghua's palm.

Her movements were as gentle as if she were touching a precious piece of porcelain, with obvious tenderness.

She raised her hand again, showing Li Minghua the tiny puncture wounds on her fingertips that hadn't completely faded, and muttered softly with heartache:

"Look at you, your hands are covered in calluses from practicing swordsmanship... and here, these are all needle marks from making the sword tassel for you..."

She raised her watery eyes and looked at Li Minghua with a hint of shyness and hesitation: "Minghua, do you think our situation could be considered... um, the hardship of 'going together'?"

As soon as she finished speaking, she blushed with embarrassment at the bold and suggestive metaphor.

Li Minghua could clearly feel Tang Xiaoning's gentle touch, a warm, slightly itchy sensation that spread from his palm all the way to his heart.

Hearing her strange analogy, a hint of confusion appeared between Li Minghua's heroic brows: "How can practicing swordsmanship and martial arts be compared with needlework in the boudoir?"

In her view, one was a necessity for survival and protection, while the other was more like a pastime.

“Why can’t we compare!” Tang Xiaoning immediately retorted confidently. “We both put in effort and endured pain! Your calluses were to protect me, and my needle marks were to make a sword tassel for you!”

The more she spoke, the more reasonable she seemed, and her voice rose slightly: "Isn't this...isn't this..."

The words "mutual understanding and mutual trust" rolled on her tongue a few times, but she ultimately swallowed them back shyly, which only turned into a deeper blush on her cheeks.

Looking at her flushed face and the way she was racking her brains for an explanation, Li Minghua's eyes flashed with a hint of understanding.

She didn't persist in asking about the overly "elegant" metaphor. Instead, she looked at Tang Xiaoning's fingers with needle marks and naturally reached out and gently wrapped her palm around Tang Xiaoning's "scarred" little hand.

Her movements carried a silent reassurance and protection, her voice low and gentle: "From now on, you won't have to do these hard things anymore. I have some excellent wound medicine here."

She tightened her grip on his hand, her gaze falling on the red dots: "Your hand... is more important."

These words, spoken plainly and directly without any embellishment, instantly softened Tang Xiaoning's heart, filling it with warmth and tenderness.

"I know! My heroine Li is the best!" Tang Xiaoning replied sweetly, her voice cloyingly sweet.

This time, instead of shyly withdrawing her hand as usual, she slightly adjusted the angle of her fingers, allowing her fingertips to more naturally nestle between Li Minghua's fingers.

Letting the other person's warm, slightly rough palm envelop me, I felt that incredibly reassuring sense of security and strength.

The sunlight generously spilled into the courtyard, gilding the two people's clasped hands with a soft golden edge, and also dancing on the new sword tassel hanging from the hilt, swaying gently in the breeze.

The crooked stitches and abstract patterns, under the light and shadow, exude a unique, clumsy yet sincere beauty.

Xiao Cui came over carrying a plate of fresh fruits that had just been rinsed with well water and were still covered with glistening water droplets.

As soon as they turned the corner of the corridor, they immediately noticed that the young lady's new sword tassel, which was usually cold and ruthless, was now dangling ostentatiously on the guard Li's sword.

It's really quite abstract...

Xiao Cui suddenly stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening instantly. She quickly lowered her head, biting her lower lip tightly to keep from laughing out loud, but her shoulders couldn't help but tremble slightly.

She quickly adjusted her breathing, tried to suppress the wildly upturned smile on her lips, and pretended to be nonchalant as she walked over quietly.

She gently placed the fruit plate on the stone table, but her eyes couldn't help but glance at the abstract sword tassel before she lowered her head and said softly, "Miss, Miss Li, please have some fruit to quench your thirst."

After saying that, he wisely tried to leave.

Tang Xiaoning belatedly realized that Xiao Cui had arrived, and she reluctantly withdrew her hand.

The blush on her cheeks deepened, and to hide this sudden shyness, she quickly reached for a slice of melon from the fruit plate and, without a word, held it to her lips:

"Here you go! This is a reward for your discerning eye in recognizing talent. Wear this sword tassel that I made!" She deliberately raised her chin, adopting a spoiled and domineering demeanor. "From now on, when you roam the world bearing my mark, you must protect me even more, understand?"

Li Minghua looked down at the melon in his hand; the flesh was plump and emitted a sweet aroma.

"Mm," she replied simply.

Without the slightest hesitation, he calmly and confidently took a big bite of the melon from Tang Xiaoning's hand.

The sweet and cool juice bursts in your mouth instantly, sliding down your throat and bringing a refreshing sensation.

She slowly swallowed the melon in her mouth, carefully wiped the juice from her hands and the corners of her mouth with a handkerchief, and looked up to find Tang Xiaoning still holding the melon. She stood there as if frozen in place, her face as red as a ripe peach.

Her sharp brows furrowed slightly, a genuine hint of doubt in her eyes, as she asked, "Not sweet?"

The sound remained steady and calm.

Tang Xiaoning was startled awake by her question, and suddenly came to her senses like a frightened deer.

She immediately shook her head vigorously, her voice trembling slightly with shyness and excitement, yet unusually loud: "Sweet! Extremely sweet!"

She practically shouted it out.

These words had a double meaning. She stared intently at the "mark" on the sword at Li Minghua's waist, then looked at the wooden female warrior in front of her, dressed in a neat blue outfit, with a calm face, clear eyes, and a hint of being clueless about romance.

A powerful, irrepressible emotion surged within me, warm and tumultuous.

Perhaps her needlework was still appallingly bad, and perhaps her dream of wandering the martial arts world seemed naive and childish to others.

But what does it matter?

She has such a person.

She has her own female knight-errant, Li.

He could clumsily crack the pages of a book for her, cherish her heartbreaking feelings, protect her with the simplest words and actions, and even... unintentionally throw her into a state of utter confusion.

This is already the sweetest fulfillment bestowed by fate.