My Wife Is A Sword Immortal-Chapter 700 - 432 Who is the Prettiest (7)

After a busy day, as the sun finally sunk into the North Sea and the last streak of orange light faded from the sky.

At the end of an old alley in Du You East City, in a small tavern named Summer Insect Pavilion, a group of men and women finally began their meal.

Zhao Rong, Lingfei, and six others gathered around the table.

In the hall, perhaps to save some oil, only half of the lights were lit, barely illuminating the dining table and the people around it.

A middle-aged woman named Bingbing, holding a candle, returned from the kitchen. She greeted Lingfei with a gracious smile and asked if anything was missing from Zhao Rong and the others’ table.

Bingbing mentioned that she often forgot things due to her poor memory, and most of the tavern’s affairs were managed by Zhao.

Saying this, the elegantly-mannered woman self-deprecatingly sighed, "I am just useless, always so forgetful. Please don’t mind me."

Zhao Rong and Lingfei exchanged glances, smiled, and waved their hands to comfort her.

Bingbing, seeing the dining table lively for once, smiled happily and wiped her hands on her apron.

She glanced at the old candle in her hand, then at the somewhat dim hall. She seemed to remember something, turned around with the candle, and quickly went to light the oil lamps in the hall.

Meanwhile, Shopkeeper Zhao who was bickering and vying for the wine jug with little Qian’er, turned his head to see his wife eagerly running to light the lamps.

After silently watching her for a while, he grimaced, showing his impatience.

The next second, Zhao Xifu let go of the wine jug, surrendering it to Qian’er who was "tug-of-waring", and dropped a comment:

"Only one cup, missy. You agreed on one cup of Ice Lady Wine, dare to pour more and see if I don’t keep you here to wash dishes!"

With that, he turned and walked towards Bingbing, who was lighting the lamps.

"Bingbing, seven lamps are enough. Why light so many? They can see the food just fine. It’s a waste of oil. Ah, you just love to fuss over nothing. No matter how much I advise, you won’t listen, you’re just stubborn... Hey, move, let me do it."

"Don’t come, I’ll do it." Bingbing ignored him, pulled over a stool, stood on it, reached up on tiptoe, trying to take down a high lamp.

"You... I’m really at my wit’s end with you. It will take a nasty fall for you to learn your lesson... Hey, be careful."

The bearded shopkeeper mumbled complaints, but as he approached, he quietly bent over.

With one hand he steadied the stool under her feet and with the other supported her waist, bowing his head in silence.

At the nearby table, little Qian’er tilted her chin towards the direction where the stingy shopkeeper had gone.

"Tsk, miser, serves you right your business isn’t better." She wrinkled her tiny nose and muttered.

Lingfei, who was distributing chopsticks to the guests invited by her husband, slightly frowned, "Qian’er."

Little Qian’er secretly stuck out her tiny tongue.

Holding the wine jug, she swayed her petite body and shook it.

Qian’er bowed her head, one eye tightly shut, the other opened as wide as possible, looking at the foam on the swaying liquid in the jug through the orange candlelight.

Her appearance was lively and playful.

After examining for a moment, she seemed satisfied and nodded her head gently. At the same time, she quietly defended herself:

"I... I was just talking about him. It wasn’t about Auntie Bing. Auntie Bing is so kind, gentle, beautiful, and understanding. Yet she married such a miser who likes to swear. Really, I don’t know what skills he had when he was young that brought him such fortune... Rong’er, don’t you think?"

Zhao Rong had previously stood up to help his wife, and currently, as the host, he was busy serving steaming hot rice to the guests, one by one.

At this moment, hearing her, he smiled but didn’t join in Qian’er’s talk.

"Thank you."

Then, Lingfei was handing a pair of chopsticks to a quiet little Fox Demon at the table, who took them without looking at her but softly whispered a word.

Lingfei looked up at her and shook her head with a smile.

"You’re welcome."

Beside them, Zhao Rong wasn’t looking at the two. It seemed he hadn’t noticed, his face turned to them.

He appeared relaxed, serving rice to Fan Yushu and Jia Tengying among others, while making playful remarks to enliven the atmosphere.

However, his ears were subtly perked up.

"Miss Su, where are you from?" Lingfei asked casually.

"Qiantang Mountain."

"Qiantang... Mountain? What place is that, where is it located?"

"Qiantang Mountain is just Qiantang Mountain, in that expanse of vast mountains," said Su Xiaoxiao, her tone more confident as she spoke of her childhood place:

"There, spring has peach blossoms, summer has jujubes, autumn has osmanthus, and winter has plums."

But... there was no Zhao Lang.

She silently added the phrase in her heart.

Lingfei turned to her, gazing unblinkingly into her eyes, listening intently.

Su’s eyelashes trembled slightly, feeling that Zhao Lang’s wife, who liked to look into people’s eyes when speaking, sometimes gave a bit of a pressing feel, especially since she was so formidable with various halos around her, just staring straight at you.

She was somewhat like him, hmm, but Zhao Lang liked to stare at people’s noses, he said that it let the other person feel he was listening earnestly but also reduced some pressure, making it less awkward... the little Fox Demon mused silently in her heart.

In the past, Zhao Lang had said many things she didn’t understand or only half knew, though confused, she still naively remembered them...

Meanwhile, a woman with eyes like autumn waters seemed to be stirred by Su Xiaoxiao’s words, reminiscent of her own childhood days behind Duke Mansion.

Her lips curved up, smiling brightly.

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