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

Faced with the persistent Yu Huaijin, Zhao Rong chose... a temporary compromise.


At this moment, just like Yu Huaijin, he sat with a stern face at the stone table in the courtyard, silently staring at the ancient zither in front of him, named "Nine Heavens Cloud Pendant."


After Yu Huaijin declined Zhao Rong's "cucumber temptation," she heard Jia Tengying excitedly calling out in the vegetable garden and went to the yard's vegetable patch.


Yu Huaijin accepted the few cucumbers that Jia Tengying picked for her and thanked him reverently with a bow, to which Jia Tengying hastily waved his hand and returned the gesture.


At this moment, she crossed her arms and returned to the stone table.


Yu Huaijin glanced at Zhao Rong's expression and said nothing, her peripheral vision always mindful of the shallow red-colored Di wine in the small white porcelain bowl on the ground at the center of the courtyard.


Chapter 227: Never Fall into the Hands of This Young Master