Yang Xiaorong

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?"
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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...
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[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"...

My Wife Is A Sword Immortal

Upon opening his eyes, Zhao Rong heard the chirping of summer insects.


The cool breeze of the afternoon caressed his face… no, it seemed to be Su Xiaoxiao fanning him.


Zhao Rong turned his head to look at Su Xiaoxiao, who sat by his side, cocking her head to listen to the other visitors' idle chat in the pavilion while she gripped the handle of a silk fan, providing him with a breeze.


Zhao Rong and his companions had arrived in Luojing City in the morning, finding they had ample time, the three of them decided not to linger and headed straight on their way. Here at a pavilion a few miles outside of Luojing named Zuiweng Pavilion, they decided to rest for a bit to escape the scorching midday summer heat, and Zhao Rong took a brief nap.


Zhao Rong stretched languidly in his chair inside the pavilion, leaning lazily against a pillar as his gaze casually swept over the interior of the pavilion.


Chapter 42: Meeting a Gentleman Immediately