Einfacher Congee-Roman

Kapitel 15

The scholar was interrupted again, but he showed no anger. He readily agreed and said briefly, "I have abandoned my martial arts."

Fan Qingbo almost bit his tongue. "It's...it's really short..." He suddenly realized what he meant and jumped up. "You, you, you, you said you crippled your own martial arts? The second-best martial arts in the world is just crippled like that? Just to avoid a fight, you'd rather cripple your own martial arts and get half-killed?"

The scholar politely replied, "It's not good for a scholar to be so physically abusive. Besides, they can't kill me."

A person who reads books? It would be more reasonable for you, a guy who is famous in the martial arts world and ranked second on the weapons list, to call yourself "a martial artist, it's not good to always speak in a literary style"!

Fan Qingbo's face twitched so badly it seemed to darken the sky and eclipse the sun and moon. He exchanged a glance with Fan Bing: This guy's got a screw loose.

The scholar, whose brain had been deemed to be riddled with holes, and perhaps even teeming with water and a goldfish, finally spoke up: "Miss Fan, have you asked everything clearly?"

Still in shock, Fan Qingbo nodded and said hesitantly, "I understand."

The scholar smiled with satisfaction. "May I ask my question now?"

Qingbo nodded blankly.

The scholar's clear, bright eyes began to blink. "Then, when can we go through the formal betrothal ceremony? Although I am not extremely wealthy, I have some savings. May I ask how much betrothal gift Miss Fan desires? What is Miss Fan's birth date and time? Do you have any elders in your family?"

thump!

The master and servant of the Fan family both fell off their chairs and rolled to the ground.

Author's Note: What kind of twisted sense of humor is this... Why do I feel so happy when I write perfectly good scholars as they become more and more insane!

11

11. We have skin-to-skin contact...

Five days have passed since the scholar proposed to Fan Qingbo. In these five days, apart from his usual teaching time, the scholar seems to be doing his best to prove that those people in the martial arts world, whether they want to hunt him down or challenge him to a duel, cannot kill him.

On the first night, he collapsed at his doorstep with an arrow stuck in his chest. Fan Qingbo picked him up, took him home, removed the arrow, and applied medicine.

The following night, he collapsed at her doorstep with a throwing knife stuck in his arm. Fan Qingbo picked him up, took the knife out, and applied medicine to his wound.

On the third night, he collapsed in her yard with a dart stuck in his shoulder. After witnessing his amazing regenerative abilities, Fan Qingbo decided to let him fend for himself. Sure enough, the next day she saw him teaching children to recite poetry with a strong voice.

On the fourth night, he collapsed in her house's hall with a row of silver needles stuck in his leg. The two women, Madam Fan and her servant, pulled down his pants, moved a small stool to sit next to him, and stayed up all night to watch how he would be resurrected in full condition.

On the fifth night, he collapsed in her guest room without any suspicious objects stuck in his body.

This is exactly what is meant by "taking an inch and then a mile" and "climbing over the top."

This time, Fan Qingbo's chivalrous spirit vanished completely. He went to the kitchen, grabbed a bucket of water, rushed into the room, and poured it over Fan Bing's head. Fan Bing clapped and cheered, but halfway through, he suddenly wailed, "Master, wait! Wait until I kick him off the bed before I pour it on him! I'll have to clean up the wet bed! Aaaaaaah..."

The scholar, startled by the splash, sat up abruptly, his eyes scanning the area to his side.

The cold, sharp gaze made Fan Qingbo's chest tremble, but it vanished in an instant. When she looked again, he had already jumped off the bed, somewhat flusteredly straightening his soaked clothes and hair, occasionally stealing glances at her.

"If you're having a seizure, go out first and close the door behind you."

"But..." Fan Bing swallowed his protest when he saw his master's solemn expression. Resigned, he picked up the still dripping bedding and grumbled as he walked out.

Fan Qingbo stood with his arms crossed, staring intently at the "pitiful" man in front of him.

The scholar, feeling uneasy under such a gaze, coughed lightly and said, "Miss Fan, may I go and change my clothes first?"

"No. I haven't seen enough yet."

The scholar blushed and said timidly, "Well... although we have a pact, we are not yet married... I'm embarrassed by your bluntness, young lady..."

Fan Qingbo sneered, pulled over a chair and sat down. "Keep pretending, let's see how long you can keep up this act."

Upon hearing this, the scholar, forgetting his embarrassment, sat down opposite her and said with utmost seriousness, "Although I don't know why Miss Fan said 'pretending,' I am serious. A true man is responsible for his actions, neither making excuses nor shirking responsibility. I have said I would marry you, and I will keep my word!"

Fan Qingbo let out another cold laugh, looking at him coldly, "Speak, what exactly is your purpose?"

He initially looked down on her and disapproved of her behavior, often telling her to respect herself. But after she learned his identity, he kept saying he wanted to marry her? Plus, his recent actions of barging into her home... There must be a conspiracy here!

"Purpose?" The scholar looked puzzled. "What purpose?"

Fan Qingbo, unable to contain himself any longer, slammed his hand on the table. "Why did you marry me if you had no ulterior motives!"

The scholar was startled by the loud noise, raised his hand to lightly press his chest, and stammered, "Doesn't your hand hurt?"

Fan Qingbo's right cheek twitched, and his hand, which he had hidden under the table, trembled with pain. He gritted his teeth and said, "No, it doesn't hurt! If you answer irrelevantly again, believe me, I'll slap that face of yours that turns red so easily?"

The scholar, already embarrassed by the comment about her "easily blushing face," suddenly met her murderous gaze and immediately composed himself. After taking some time to think about what question she had asked, he replied, "I am naturally sincere in wanting to marry you, young lady. If you insist on saying what my purpose is..." He turned his face away, his ears turning slightly red, "Since we have already been intimate, I should take responsibility."

Having said those words, he had reached his limit. He lowered his head until a familiar fragrance wafted over.

Fan Qingbo grabbed his collar, forcing him to look up, their eyes and noses touching.

"Skin-to-skin contact? Skin-to-skin contact?! I've slept with you and had sex with you, how come I don't know? When, where, under what circumstances, in what atmosphere? Could it be that you drugged me with aphrodisiacs? You hypocritical beast, you scumbag, you degenerate bastard!"

The scholar, his face covered in spit, was momentarily distracted, thinking that the "fragrant breath" described in books was mostly a lie to men. A moment later, he belatedly realized the gravity of her accusation, his face flushing red as he frantically tried to explain, only making things worse. "N-no...we didn't...we didn't sleep together, no, we didn't...we didn't have sex..."

I just can't bring myself to say the word "hand over".

Fortunately, Fan Qingbo quickly grasped the key phrase, "Did they sleep together but not mate?"

The scholar nodded hastily, but then realized something was wrong and his face flushed again.