Chapter 38 Jealousy
When Li Minghua returned with two bowls of chilled plum juice, glistening with icy water droplets, his face had regained its usual calm and composure.
It was as if the person with bright red ears and hurried steps just now wasn't her at all.
Only the base of her white, jade-like ears stubbornly retained a blush that had not completely faded, revealing the turmoil in her heart.
Tang Xiaoning tried hard to suppress the upturned corners of her mouth and took the cold white porcelain bowl.
Sipping the sweet and sour, icy soup, the refreshing coolness dispelled the afternoon heat and calmed her restless, sweet heart.
Looking at Li Minghua, who was sitting on the round stool opposite her, with her back straight, eyes fixed straight ahead, trying her best to act nonchalant and only focusing on her bowl of plum juice, she felt her heart soften completely.
"Minghua," she said, setting down her half-empty bowl, which made a soft, crisp sound as it hit the table.
Her tone became light and cheerful again, carrying a small expectation for the future:
"Once your new sword tassel is finished, embroidered with that lively and adorable little swallow just like me, let's go for a stroll at Qixia Temple outside the city."
I heard that fortune-telling and wish-making there are incredibly effective!
She didn't mention the distant and magnificent desert beyond the Great Wall, nor the misty and rainy alleys of Jiangnan.
Instead, they chose Qixia Temple, which was closer and safer.
Because she knew that no matter where she was, whether at the ends of the earth or in a nearby ancient temple, as long as this person was by her side, and she could feel that calm and steady protection and the occasional clumsy tenderness, then anywhere would be the best place to go.
Li Minghua heard the sound and looked up.
The afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window cast dappled patterns of light in her deep eyes.
She looked into Tang Xiaoning's smiling eyes, which were filled with dependence, trust, and pure joy.
Her tense lips relaxed almost imperceptibly, softening her slightly sharp jawline.
She nodded slightly and replied clearly, "Okay."
That once hard, cold, and unfeeling "wood" seems to be quietly melting and growing its own soft yet resilient interior in an extremely clumsy yet incredibly sincere and touching way.
Like an ancient tree that has weathered many storms, it finally sprouts tender buds that belong to spring.
The materials for the new sword tassel were finalized after a "fierce" internal discussion.
The decision was made to use shimmering, turquoise glass beads, paired with deep, calming black silk threads.
This discussion was mainly led by Miss Tang Xiaoning, who overruled the majority opinion, especially rejecting Li Minghua's pragmatic suggestions of "solidity first" and "avoiding complexity."
Tang Xiaoning was quite pleased with this, claiming that the combination not only retained Li Minghua's heroic spirit and composure as a bodyguard, but also perfectly showcased her unique aesthetic taste as Miss Tang.
At this moment, the warm pavilion is filled with the gentle fragrance of incense.
Tang Xiaoning sat on a cushioned embroidery stool, facing a rattan sewing basket filled with colorful silk threads, glass beads, and small gold scissors, yet she felt as if she were facing a formidable enemy.
The dexterity with which she usually designs patterns and wields her brush vanishes completely in the face of a fine embroidery needle and slippery silk thread.
Asking her to hold a needle? That would be even more difficult than asking her to master her family's "bamboo broom sword technique."
"Ouch!" A suppressed cry of pain rang out.
Tang Xiaoning frowned and quickly put her index finger, which had been pricked hard by the needle, into her mouth, tasting a slightly salty, rusty flavor on her tongue.
She looked up, her eyes brimming with tears, at Li Minghua, who was intently reading a yellowed military book by the window. Her voice was as pitiful as a kitten's:
"Minghua... Do you female knights who roam the martial world also have to sew and mend your own clothes?"
How come you don't get pricked?
She sniffed, stretched out her slightly bleeding fingertip, and waved it pitifully.
Upon hearing the sound, Li Minghua looked up from between the books.
Seeing Tang Xiaoning's miserable appearance, with tears even glistening in the corners of her eyes, she immediately put down the book in her hand, got up, and walked over.
She didn't speak, but simply took Tang Xiaoning's injured hand.
She examined the needle eye, from which a tiny bead of bright red blood was seeping, and took out a small, flat, round, light blue porcelain bottle, no bigger than her thumb, from a finely stitched cloth bag she carried close to her body.
She uncorked the small cork, poured out a little bit of pale green powder, and gently applied it to Tang Xiaoning's fingertips with her fingertips.
A cool sensation instantly spread, suppressing the sharp sting.
"Be careful." Li Minghua's voice remained flat, revealing no particular emotion.
But the way he applied the medicine was very gentle and careful.
"I know how to sew," she said, looking at Tang Xiaoning's finger, which was stained a pale green with medicinal powder.
Her gaze then swept over the tangled black silk thread in the wicker basket, which she had been fiddling with, and the lone, unstrung glass bead, and she suggested, "How about... I help you?"
Her tone was tentative.
"No!" Tang Xiaoning, like a kitten whose tail had been stepped on, immediately pulled her wrist away from Li Minghua's hand.
She threw herself in front of the sewing basket, spreading her arms to protect the pile of "precious" materials, her tone resolute:
"It's a promise that this is a one-of-a-kind 'exclusive' sword tassel that I'm giving you!"
Absolutely! Only what I made by hand counts!
She picked up the embroidery needle that had caused her so much trouble again, her little face filled with a stubborn determination: "I refuse to believe it! I'm going to string it together perfectly today!"
Seeing her stubbornness and refusal to back down, Li Minghua said no more.
She simply walked silently to the side and moved the exquisite brass candlestick on the table a little closer to Tang Xiaoning.
The flickering candlelight illuminated her embroidery hoop even brighter and clearer, casting a warm and soft glow on her focused little face.
As Tang Xiaoning was intently struggling with a stubborn knotted thread, the needle tip nearly grazing her fingertips several times, almost sewing herself back to the poor piece of dark fabric, the clear voice of a young maidservant came from outside the door:
"Miss, the young master of the Zhou family has arrived."
Upon hearing the name, Tang Xiaoning's brows immediately furrowed, and she sighed inwardly: Here we go again!
As expected, Zhou Wenyuan walked in with his usual gentle and smiling demeanor, carefully carrying an exquisite wooden box covered with brocade.
His gaze fell intently on Tang Xiaoning, his voice carrying its usual obsequiousness:
“Xiaoning, my mother said she got a few bolts of fine Yun brocade that were just transported from the capital.”
The color was shimmering and vibrant, and they said it perfectly complemented your aura, so they specifically asked me to bring it to you as soon as possible..."
He was halfway through his sentence when he suddenly caught sight of the striking blue-clad figure in the shadows by the window.
Zhou Wenyuan's voice seemed to be choked, instantly dropping to a crescendo, and his ingratiating smile froze: "Uh... Miss Li is here too..."
Upon hearing this, Li Minghua merely raised her eyelids and gave him a brief, indifferent glance.
His gaze was calm and unwavering, as if he were only looking at a moving decoration.
She gave a perfunctory nod as a greeting, then her gaze returned to the military treatise lying on her lap.
Long, slender fingers gently turned a page, making a soft rustling sound as the paper rubbed together.
Her posture seemed to say: the person in front of me is not as noteworthy as the ink on the page of a book, but merely an insignificant breeze that sweeps across the pond.
Tang Xiaoning put down the needlework, which she had tormented beyond recognition, her tone clearly impatient:
“Brother Wenyuan, I’ve told you so many times, there’s really no need to keep sending things here. I appreciate your kindness, Auntie.”
“It’s my mother who keeps talking about you…” Zhou Wenyuan habitually began, trying to use his mother as a shield, but under Tang Xiaoning’s wide-eyed stare that clearly said “Don’t try that on me,” he swallowed the rest of his sentence awkwardly.
He quickly opened the lid of the brocade box, revealing neatly folded brocade of exceptionally beautiful color inside:
"Look at this fabric, its luster, how exquisitely the cloud pattern is woven! If it were made into a dress, it would surely look amazing on Xiaoning..."
He was eager to show off, and his voice rose a little.
"Sizzle!"
A very faint yet unusually clear sound of paper tearing abruptly interrupted Zhou Wenyuan's boastful talk, which was like showing off a treasure.
The warm pavilion fell silent instantly, and everyone's eyes turned to the source of the sound.
On the edge of one of the pages of the military treatise in Li Minghua's hand, there was a sharp, straight tear about an inch long!
The crack was so clean it didn't look like a natural break; it looked more like it had been sliced open instantly by an extremely thin, sharp blade.
Li Minghua himself seemed to be taken aback for a moment.
She looked down at the fresh crack, her handsome brows furrowing almost imperceptibly as she gently ran her fingertips across it.
She raised her eyes, her gaze sweeping over Zhou Wenyuan and Tang Xiaoning, who were staring at her in astonishment. Her face remained expressionless as she whispered, "This book is old, and the paper is brittle."
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