In a spring room.

There was a beautiful woman standing quietly reading a letter.

On the desk in front of her, there were seven brocade boxes filled with love letters. Some of the envelopes were brightly colored, while others were glittering. It was obvious that they were made of fine fairy paper.

But all of these were casually placed aside and inadvertently ignored by the woman.

In her eyes, she only had two love letters.

Now, one is right in front of me.

"I dare to break off with you...I dare to break off with you...I dare..."

A pair of long, clear eyes seemed to contain a pool of spring water, their brightness reflected the rows of regular script on the letter paper.

Zhao Rong's handwriting is vigorous and upright, with a solemn momentum.

Just like the lines of poetry, resolute and solemn, like an unswerving oath that will never change throughout his life, until the seas run dry and the rocks crumble, and the world ends, he solemnly swore.

Brother Rong'er, are you going to... make an oath of allegiance with Qingjun Mountain...

Concubine Zhao Ling's long eyelashes trembled slightly, and her eyes were clear and bright as she stared at this ordinary yet extraordinary piece of letter.

It was ordinary because the letter paper was just ordinary paper, a little more refined, but extraordinary because… there was something magical and extraordinary on the letter paper, with each elegant regular script shining brightly and looking extraordinary.

“Shangxie…Shangxie…”

Her pink lips trembled, opening and closing slightly, and she murmured silently.

At this moment.

There are strange visions on the letter.

The breeze blew up Concubine Zhao Ling's sleeves. Her two bare hands, which were holding the letter, were blown up by the wind, revealing two pieces of snow-white arms, which made them look even more slender and long.

The breeze that blew from nowhere blew past her and made her loose white clothes fit her body tightly.

The woman has a graceful body and her figure rises and falls in a well-proportioned manner.

However, if Zhao Rong was present, the momentary charm that would have made him unable to take his eyes away was gone the next second.

After feeling the spiritual energy flowing towards her, Concubine Zhao Ling came back to her senses instantly, folded the letter with her bare hands, breathed a sigh of relief, then looked down at the love letter in her palm.

She smiled faintly, her eyes filled with joy, and she couldn't let it go.

The love poem that Rong'er gave her was a poem about falling flowers and appreciating the state of selflessness.

It can help the bottleneck monks in Fuyao Realm to comprehend the Broken Mirror, and it is also effective for monks in Haoran Realm and above. It can instantly replenish spiritual energy and improve their cultivation.

Moreover, the poems in the state of selflessness can be used repeatedly. After being comprehended once, they can be slowly restored by absorbing spiritual energy.

Just now, because Zhao Lingfei was too absorbed in the song, she inevitably resonated with it, causing its spiritual energy to flow into her body.

Zhao Lingfei only needed a little guidance to absorb it. Although she was already a cultivator in the Haoran Realm and was at the bottleneck of the Haoran Realm, this spiritual energy cultivation could also loosen the bottleneck that was like a mountain.

However.

She didn't want to.

Not at all.

Although Concubine Zhao Lingfei was surprised that Brother Rong'er could write a poem of high quality, she already knew that he had written a birthday poem for Qian'er, which was also of high quality, the same as Fallen Flower, but not as good as hers this time. This time it gave her the state of selflessness.

Zhao Lingfei knew that for Confucian scholars, except for those who were born with the talent for poetry, it was extremely difficult for most Confucian scholars to write poems that were of good quality. It required the right time, place and people, especially the latter, which was very important.

Therefore, she thought that Rong Erge must have pondered and thought deeply about the matter with Qian'er, and composed this poem.

Well, when Rong'er was a child, he would often spend two or three days thinking about the rhythm of a poem. He would think about it while eating and playing with her. Uncle Xiaobai said he was a blockhead, but I think he was really serious and hardworking. Rong'er was such a man. How could others know how good he was...

He went all the way north to look for her, and he didn't know how many love poems he wrote for her before he got this poem of fallen flowers that shocked her heart.

This is how loving a good man is.

There was no way Zhao Lingfei was willing to absorb even a bit of its spiritual energy.

She was not willing to let it go at all. This magnificent and shining regular script was so beautiful. If it absorbed spiritual energy, it would lose its brilliance.

Even if the poetry in the state of selflessness could slowly recover, who knew how long it would take, and Concubine Zhao Ling was unwilling to wait even a moment.

It should be kept the same as it was when Brother Ronger wrote it.

Can't move...

The woman thought stubbornly.

And if Zhao Rong was beside her at this moment and knew what was in this fool's mind, he would definitely roll up the book and tap her little forehead lightly. If he couldn't bear to tap this stupid girl, he would reach out and pinch her nose, shaking his hand left and right, looking at her shaking little face and her bright eyes looking up at him, and laughingly scolding her, "little fool."

At some point.

Concubine Zhao Ling's eyes curved, and she looked a little proud.

Although Qian'er kept saying that the birthday song was written for her by Brother Rong'er, after all, that day was not Qian'er's birthday, but her birthday.

But the birthday poem was consciously written by Brother Rong'er for Qian'er.

Qian'er later found an excuse, saying that she asked him to keep the poem for her, and happily took the original manuscript of the birthday poem away. Later, when she came to see it occasionally, Qian'er always looked worried and reminded her in various ways, as if she was afraid that she would take it away and not return it.

And now, this love poem in my hand is even better than that birthday poem, as it expresses the state of having no self like fallen flowers.

Concubine Zhao Ling had a calm and aloof personality, and generally wouldn't argue about whether the poem was of good quality or what level it was at. However, at certain times and in certain aspects, she would care a lot, like now.

Because she cares about the intention behind it.

Qian'er...you have to...stay behind...don't run ahead of the lady...

The girl named Qingjun sat at the desk, her mind full of thoughts and affection.

A wooden hairpin is inserted in her hair, tying up three thousand threads of love. She ties her hair up for you, revealing her beautiful oval face, and her snow-white neck like a white swan. Her eyes are full of vitality and she looks refreshing.

At this moment, she was tilting her head, supporting her chin with one hand, and looking at the two love letters on the table with clear eyes.

Concubine Zhao Ling quietly reached out and couldn't help but open the poem "Shang Xie". She squinted at it for a few times, then gently closed it, fearing that if she continued reading it, she would feel a sense of induction and cause its spiritual energy to be lost.

After a while.

The bare hand reached out again, like a little fox stealing a chicken, and its fingertips slipped into the crack of the paper. It carefully flipped up a corner, revealing Zhao Rong's neat regular script again.

She bit her lip and stared for a while, then nodded slightly and closed it again.

But it won't be long.

The white hand sneaked over again...

Concubine Zhao Ling burst out laughing, as if she was also amused by her silly behavior.

She smiled like a blooming flower, her beautiful eyes slightly narrowed, picked up Zhao Rong's love letter, and pressed it against her chest with both hands.

The woman stared blankly ahead, at the empty boudoir. She kept murmuring, "I want to know you, I want to know you... I also... want to know you..."

However, I don't know when she stopped talking and the smile on her face disappeared.

When she doesn't smile, her pretty face looks cold.

Zhao Lingfei held her lower lip and stared at another love letter on the desk.

Some dusty memories came flooding back.

The first love letter, I went back, but you left.

The second love letter, you want to know me...is it true?

Or...are you trying to trick me back again?

She turned pale.

The love letter on my chest pressed harder and harder.

Stuck in.

From then on, just like this, the woman's mind was like the clouds in the sky outside the window, sometimes clear and sometimes dark.

…

Zhao Rong didn't know that his love poem had made Qingjun have so many girlish thoughts.

After taking the first class with Zhao Lingfei, he went back in a good mood, and even felt more favorable towards Fan Yushu.

At night, Zhao Rong tossed and turned, with Qingjun's beautiful figure all in his mind.

She ignored his cold profile while attending class in Four Seasons Hall.

When he kept bullying her, her almond-shaped eyes widened in anger.

After class, the back figure hurriedly fled...

Zhao Rong was a little impatient for Mr. Yan's class tomorrow morning.

It was late at night and quiet, and he was unable to sleep. He called out to Gui a few times, but there was no response.

Some time ago, after he entered the academy, Gui told him that he would sleep for a while. In recent days, he would call out to it every day to see if it had woken up.

There was no one to chat late at night, and Zhao Rong gradually fell asleep.

The next morning.

Zhao Rong ran to Four Seasons Hall happily.

He had been looking forward to it since the class started, but until Mr. Yan dismissed everyone and the get out of class was over, Zhao Rong still did not find that beautiful figure in the classroom.

Qingjun didn't come.

Zhao Rong frowned.

In the morning, when I accompanied Fan Yushu to Nanci Jingshe to breathe fresh air, I asked and found out that all the love letters had been taken away. Logically, Qingjun should have received the love poems he wrote.

Why didn't you come...

How about we wait and see the next class the day after tomorrow?

Zhao Rong shook his head. No, he couldn’t wait any longer and had to act immediately.

If she doesn't come, it means the licking is not strong enough.

Qingjun was hurt so badly back then that she might still be feeling a bit scared and not dare to approach him actively.

Zhao Rong frowned slightly.

Although Qingjun now looks aloof and self-reliant, as good as or even stronger than men, she was not like this when she was a child.

Although her mother died early, she still had her mother, Aunt Liu, to take care of her, so she did not lack maternal love.

However, her father has not been around since she was a child, which made her feel insecure and have a certain complex, longing to be protected by a responsible and strong man.

Therefore, Qingjun was so dependent on him in childhood. She not only regarded him as her childhood sweetheart and brother, but also poured all her fantasies of fatherly love and all her emotions towards men into him.

Later, as she grew up, Zhao Rong gradually became estranged from her. She also spent many years practicing outside, so she became aloof and self-reliant, but this was just Qingjun's protective color.

Deep inside her heart, there must still be a romantic but fragile little girl living there, just like when she was little...

Zhao Rong pursed his lips, feeling a little distressed.

She is his wife.

Since one love poem doesn’t work, let’s try another one!

But we need to find another way...

Just do it.

In the following days, Zhao Rong got up early every day to deliver a love letter to Nanci Jingshe, listened to lectures carefully in the lecture hall during the day, and returned to his residence to review his homework at night. After that, he carefully prepared the love letter for the next day, practiced, and went to sleep.

As for the love letters he had sent out, Zhao Rong was confident that no woman could bear too many.

but……

After a few days, Concubine Zhao Ling still didn't come to Four Seasons Hall for class. It was a bit troublesome.

Ahem, she is worthy of being my Zhao Rong, Zhao Ziyu's wife. She is indeed not an ordinary woman...

So Zhao Rong adjusted his plan. He not only delivered the letter in the morning, but also went at noon and evening, three times a day, launching a fierce "offensive" against his sword fairy wife.

I don't believe it, this still can't subdue you...

In this way, several days passed.

Early this morning.

Zhao Rong and Fan Yushu once again went out to breathe fresh air together.

Fan Yushu yawned and glanced at Zhao Rong, who had a calm expression.

Not long ago, after learning that Zhao Rong was really the husband of Concubine Zhao Ling, he thought they would no longer send love letters together, but he didn't expect that Zhao Rong would fall out with the other party just like him, and was left out by them...

Fan Yushu suddenly felt a sense of mutual admiration in his heart.

However, when he thought that Zhao Rong's wife was actually Concubine Zhao Lingfei, he still felt a little dazed.

He had heard of this name when he was in the family, but he never expected that a classmate he met just after arriving at the academy would be Zhao Lingfei's husband. Are all the students of this year's Linlu Academy so talented?

Fan Yushu tilted his head and looked up and down at his companion.

He was dressed simply, had a decent face and a pair of bright eyes, but overall he was ordinary and not memorable at first sight.

He should be a cultivator, but it seems that his cultivation has not yet reached the Fuyao realm.

On weekdays, he was good at cultivating his qi, and he usually kept a calm face in the face of things. Naturally, he had good conversation because he could enter the academy. However, among the many disciples under Mr. Yan, his performance was not outstanding. He was the kind who followed the rules and did not attract much attention. He was neither outstanding nor vulgar.

But... he is the husband of the Taiqing Mansion's darling Zhao Lingfei...

“Does it look good?”

Zhao Rong said softly.

Fan Yushu then realized that he had been staring at her for a little too long. He coughed lightly, looked away, and then changed the subject:

"Hey, Tzuyu, I see you hand in three love letters every day. Uh, isn't that too much?"

Zhao Rong raised his eyebrows slightly.

Fan Yushu turned around, looked like someone who had experienced this, and spoke in a serious tone.

"Tzuyu, the most important thing about love letters is to craft them carefully and write beautiful, passionate and elegant sentences. Women like this, rather than writing shoddy and simple words like "I miss you so much" and "I like you so much". We should win with quality instead of blindly pursuing quantity. Tzuyu, you are obsessed with appearance."

Zhao Rong turned his head and glanced at Fan Yushu, nodded, thought for a moment, and then tactfully said, "Brother Yushu, do you have any good ideas?"

Fan Yushu cleared his throat, finally waiting for these words. He looked around and saw that no one was paying attention, so he took out a book with no words on the cover as if it were a treasure and gestured to Zhao Rong.

"Tzuyu, I think you and I get along well, so I told you this. Don't spread it around and let others learn from it."

Zhao Rong curled the corners of his mouth, but then put it down and continued to nod with a serious expression.

He had seen this book many times, and Fan Yushu would read it every time he wrote a love letter.

Seeing this, Fan Yushu nodded with satisfaction, thinking that this young boy is teachable.

He coughed and handed it over carefully with both hands.

Zhao Rong took it and opened the first page to take a look.

"One Hundred Love Letters from Talented Men That Made Fairies Fall in Love with Them"

His brows gradually raised and he began to flip through the pages.

It was different from what Zhao Rong had imagined.

This book is filled with gorgeous, complicated and profound sentences. Isn't it a love letter? Wait, eh, it does seem to be a love talk, but it goes around in circles and the meaning is so confusing. Who can understand it?

The writing is good, but are you sure this is a love letter for fairies and not for old scholars?

Hey, what is this word? It's so rare. I'll go check it later...

Zhao Rong read it for a while and was a little confused, but he could roughly understand it. However, this requires a Confucian scholar who has studied it specially. You wrote it so profoundly, it has a certain style, but...

Zhao Rong nodded sincerely and praised, "Brother Yushu, I admire you."

"No, no, this is the love letter that we Confucian scholars should write. Ziyu, do you want to take it and observe it for a few days and copy a few sentences?"

"I didn't expect that this is a book for cultured people... No, no, I won't take away someone else's good works. Brother Yushu, please keep it."

Fan Yushu put it away with great satisfaction, and walked with a triumphant look on his face as he put the love letter he was going to deliver today into his sleeve.

He spent the whole night reading a book yesterday, and suddenly got inspiration in the middle of the night. He hid many metaphors between the lines, such as homophones, wonderful allusions, and even hidden acrostics... Lanzhi would definitely smile knowingly...

Zhao Rong couldn't help laughing, and suddenly he became a little worried about the cultural level of Miss Ye, whom he had never met before.

I mean, can she really understand...

Not long after, Zhao Rong and the other man arrived at Nanci Jingshe again.