Chapter 432 - Unstoppable Heart Fire

“He’s not just a brat, when she was young and foolish, she made him genuinely angry several times, claiming each time he would take a ruler to break her legs and confine her in the ‘quiet room’ to reflect and write, never to be released.

Each time, she showed a scared demeanor, but secretly, she was somewhat looking forward to it.

Because within the everyday scenery, he spent most of his time cultivating alone in the ‘quiet room.’

Never to be released…

What a lavish punishment.

But every time… it was just empty threats.

She knew, he actually couldn’t bear to do it.

After all, a mentor who forcibly kept his composure while waiting for her to voice the crux of her heart, then feigning indifference but patiently and gently unraveled her concerns, was indeed a person she dearly loved.

Feng Luo was speechless.

His fatigue deepened, as he had played with the willow leaf in his hand for a long time before truly falling asleep on the blue cloth.

Arao thought the green leaf looked extremely beautiful, just like her mentor.

Her mischievous heart persisted; she slowly raised her body from the spring water, and cautiously plucked the green leaf with her slightly wet fingertips.

It didn’t matter.

It was just a leaf, after all, even if she didn’t take it, those careless breezes that knew no value would steal it away.

If that was the case, it was better for her to pluck it and treasure it for a lifetime.

As the green leaf and her mentor’s tranquil face grew closer, she suddenly couldn’t tell which of the two she truly wanted to cherish.

Her fingertips finally touched the green leaf.

She slowly closed her eyes, suppressing the emotions within her heart.

This was enough.

One shouldn’t be greedy.

Having once lost everything, she knew that greed would turn all that didn’t belong to her into sand between her fingers.

Just taking a single leaf was enough.

Pitter-patter…

Unknowingly, a sudden rain had begun to fall.

The rain quickly soaked their clothes and hair; she suddenly opened her eyes and was about to summon a Barrier to shield from the rain.

A raindrop…

Just as it slid down his forehead, mixing with his breath on her fingertips, chilly and cool.

She lowered her head, looking at her fingertips, her lips slowly curling into a pale, thin line.

The cold rain and his breath mingled into one, like a freshly brewed poison.

Or perhaps the man in front of her, so close yet untouchable, was her poison, already drawn into a lethal trap, with no antidote available.

Slowly.

Not be greedy.

Not be greedy…

But how could she not be greedy!

How could her fiery heart be cooled by the sudden rain.

Fang Geyu watched the growing confusion and madness in her eyes, and couldn’t help but feel shaken.

“Mentor?” she said softly, twirling the green leaf in her hand, which then vanished, and she muttered.

She knew, had he been awake, he would have responded.

The area by the spring was tranquil.

She also knew that her mentor usually slept very little each day, only for an hour, and so each time he slept, he slept deeply, particularly when he was exhausted, and only a thunderous noise could wake him.

Thinking this, she couldn’t help but feel somewhat thankful for her mentor’s strict father.

The willow fluff wafted through the curtain of rain, breaking the pool’s muddled celestial light into myriad pieces.

The blue cloth loosely scattered, gripped tightly by her sweat-slightly-damp hands, Arao carefully yet boldly leaned forward, her soft, thin lips landing between his eyes.

“Mentor…” Her lips brushed past his eyes and reached his ears as she whispered softly, “If you don’t speak, Disciple will continue to play the brat, Mentor…”

Far from her previous bratty behavior, this moment’s “play the brat” had a pink-toned implication of ambiguity.

Without receiving any response, her eyes narrowed dangerously, and she easily took possession of his lips.

Her fingertips tightened on his blue sleeves, clearly showing the momentary world-shattering satisfaction in her heart.

From an initially cautious attempt, tender to the bone, to later uncontrollable restraint, it was all just a moment’s struggle.

Time passed unknowably.

Tired birds returned to the forest, their cries mingling with the sound of rain.

Relishing the moment, and not yet satisfied, she licked the corner of her mentor’s lips before slowly pulling away.

Arao stretched satisfyingly, about to cast a spell to remove the wetness from her mentor’s body when her gaze suddenly stiffened.

On the surface of the agitated Cold Spring water, there now stood a tall silhouette holding an umbrella.

Yun Rong looked calmly at the enchanting woman on the other side of the spring.

The reason she was enchanting wasn’t solely because of her beautiful, seductive appearance, but also because she currently wore no clothes.

Her body, soaked by the rain, was unusually pale and stunning, like a piece of jade glowing with celestial light and moisture, her dark, slightly curly hair clinging to her bare shoulders and slender back, striking yet enticing.

So, she was exceptionally enchanting.

But this enchanting woman, at the moment, had no color on her face.

Yun Rong, holding a green bamboo-ribbed umbrella and carrying a three-tiered food box, looked at the wetness around Arao’s lips, like two tender petals just drenched in dew, then shifted her gaze to her husband’s slightly swollen lips, nodding calmly and said, “I came to bring food.”

Fang Geyu was already speechless beyond thought.

The witch, Arao, did not respond.

Silently, she picked up the clothes from the blue stone, dressed meticulously, appearing even more decorous and perfectly fitting as a disciple in front of Yun Rong, with not a hint of disrespect or coquettishness.

She knelt on the ground, letting the wet mud stain her long dress: “Disciple pays respect to the mentor’s wife.”

Fang Geyu thought, at such a moment, the heroine who finally appears would surely scoff and tauntingly raise a brow with a line like, “Mentor’s wife?

You too recognize I am your mentor’s wife?”

Unexpectedly, Yun Rong was truly different; her first words were, “How has Arao’s wound recovered?”

Is this really the time to worry about injuries?

The stiffness in the witch Arao’s eyes gradually dissipated, but her expression remained pale as she replied, “It’s no serious ailment.”

Yun Rong was exceedingly generous, “Get up then.”

And then she really did get up.

Both deliberately did not mention the previous incident.

Yun Rong’s demeanor was what one could call, “graciously proper.”

Arao’s attitude was what one could call, “sincerely guiltless.”

Mentor’s wife Yun Rong trod through the rain across the spring, completing for Arao the Water Repelling Spell she had been unable to finish, drying the water from her husband’s body and blocking the torrential rain.

She stood under the tree, silent for a moment; the atmosphere subtly turned a bit awkward.

The rain arrived swiftly and departed just as quickly.

The forest air was clear but felt damp.

Yun Rong put away the umbrella and extended a hand towards Arao.

Arao’s heart suddenly felt as if tightened by a thin, sharp wire, painfully tight: “Mentor’s wife… do you also like willow leaves?”

Yun Rong paused, puzzled, “Willow leaves?”

Arao’s heart immediately sank even more, thinking inwardly that it was indeed the sword-obsessed Yun Rong, who truly saw the collecting of leaves as just that simple.

A person indifferent to romance would not understand these matters.

She feebly rejoiced for a moment, realizing what she wanted, and then dried the wetness from the green cloth in her hand using her Daoist Skills and handed it to her.

Yun Rong crouched down, covering the man’s eyes once more with the green cloth, then reached out to carefully fix the clothes crumpled on his_rbody.

After doing all this, she crouched down and stared blankly for a while at his reddened lips; even her steadfast Daoist heart felt somewhat at a loss at this moment.

She was wholeheartedly obsessed with the Sword Dao, and didn’t much care about other matters.

being a sect leader lady, on ordinary days, whenever she encountered troublesome trivial matters, she’d casually mention them to her husband, who would perfectly handle everything.

But now, could she still speak of this matter with her husband?

Why hadn’t anyone told her when she got married that being a mentor’s wife was such a headache?

Indeed the mundane world is full of trivialities, nothing as simple as the way of the sword.

Just as she was truly clueless about how to handle this situation, her usually silent little disciple finally spoke up, “Mentor’s wife.”

Yun Rong thought to herself, are you going to make excuses for yourself?

But I clearly saw everything just now, and a Sword Cultivator’s eyes cannot be mistaken.

But since you want to explain, then I will listen earnestly.

If the excuse is reasonable, I wouldn’t make things difficult.

After all, this is his most beloved disciple.

“Earlier, the disciple secretly kissed the mentor.”

She’s so forthright?!!!

Yun Rong: “…”

“Earlier, the disciple also secretly caressed the mentor’s waist, and it felt quite nice.”

You’re even telling me the sensation!?

That’s totally crossing the line!!!

It’s about time to discipline you, you rascal.

“The disciple knows her mistakes.”

Yun Rong: “???”

The confession came so quickly?

I’m suddenly at a loss.

“So…” Arao, neither logical nor righteous, pleaded.

“Could you please pretend you didn’t see anything?”

Even the stoic Yun Rong was momentarily speechless.

Never had she met such an unabashed person.

Arao once again pleaded sincerely, “I genuinely know I was wrong, and I won’t do it again.”

Yun Rong thought for a moment; speaking strictly, her request seemed incredibly impolite, but aside from that, there seemed to be no better solution.

She massaged her temples, saying, “Once your injuries heal, go copy the ‘Mental Tranquility Technique’ a hundred times.”

“Yes, Mentor’s wife.”