349. Big Liar

At the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Clan, in the exclusive training field of the young lady.

Ning Rongrong sat on a rock, staring at the tower, her eyes almost dried out by the wind. She pouted her lips, saying in a sweet voice, “Grandpa Bone, why hasn’t Brother Holy Son come yet?”

Bone Douluo, resting his chin on his hands and also looking at the tower, sighed and replied, “Little girl, it hasn’t even been a quarter of an hour, and you’ve already asked Grandpa three times.”

“But it feels like it’s been ages,” Ning Rongrong muttered, her cheeks flushed. She pulled out a small patch of grass beside her and tossed it away.

Brother Holy Son had made her wait much longer than this mere quarter of an hour.

"Hmm?" Bone Douluo raised an eyebrow, seeming to sense something, and chuckled. “Haha.”

“If you want to see him that much, why not go find him?” he teased.

“No way!” Ning Rongrong stubbornly pouted, lowering her head, her lips quivering with frustration. “Brother Holy Son was so mean, he made me upset on purpose.”

“Oh, I see…” Bone Douluo’s voice softened, and he gently patted Ning Rongrong’s hair, glancing at the golden figure approaching.

With a thoughtful look, he asked, “Did you hear that?”

“…”

Qian Renjue, looking at the pink-haired girl, had an apologetic expression and nodded slightly.

“Grandpa Bone, who are you talking to?” Ning Rongrong asked, frowning and glancing to her side, only to find Bone Douluo had disappeared.

Beside her, only a dark, closing space portal remained.

“Grandpa Bone? Rongrong isn’t in the mood for games!” She was about to stand up and look for him when a gentle, familiar voice echoed beside her.

“Rongrong~ Long time no see.”

“Ah! Brother Holy Son!” Ning Rongrong froze, then looked up in surprise, joy lighting up her face as she recognized the tall figure with golden hair and violet eyes.

That familiar smile.

She immediately ran toward Qian Renjue but stopped after a few steps, regaining her composure.

Her smile faded as she folded her arms, turning away with a huff. “Hmph—!”

Qian Renjue was taken aback, chuckling awkwardly as he slowly lowered his slightly open arms and stepped forward. Standing before her, he reached out and gently ruffled her pink hair.

“Rongrong, I came to see you. I’m sorry for making you wait so long.”

“…”

Hearing his gentle words, Ning Rongrong’s pink-purple eyes blinked, beginning to well up with tears. She bit her lip, her buried frustration surfacing.

Qian Renjue watched her, noting how her short pink hair concealed her profile and how her long eyelashes were starting to glisten.

“Rongrong~”

“Brother Holy Son, you’re a big liar! Rongrong doesn’t want to talk to you!” Her voice broke with emotion as she shook off his hand, turned her back on him, and crouched down, hugging her knees and sobbing quietly.

“Rongrong?” Qian Renjue looked stunned, immediately squatting beside her, holding her shoulders gently and offering comfort.

“Rongrong, please don’t cry~”

“…”

---


A few hundred meters away from the training field, atop the watchtower:

A dark portal opened, and Bone Douluo appeared beside Ning Fengzhi and the others, nodding in greeting to Ling Yuan. Sword Douluo frowned, seeing Ning Rongrong crouching down.

“Hmph! That boy actually made Rongrong cry this quickly!” he grumbled.

“Uncle Sword, calm down,” Ning Fengzhi said, sipping his green tea leisurely.

Sword Douluo replied coldly, “Fengzhi, don’t you feel any heartache? All these years, under our care, Rongrong has never cried like this!”

“Little Sword, Fengzhi is right; stay calm,” Bone Douluo agreed, sipping his tea as he watched Qian Renjue from afar, his eyes narrowing with a hint of danger. “Let’s watch first. If he can’t make it up to her, we can have a ‘talk’ with him.”

“Uh… Uncle Bone,” Ning Fengzhi said, chuckling awkwardly as he looked at Bone Douluo. “I forgot to mention that the Holy Son is now a 77th-level Soul Sage.”

“Seventy-seven levels…” Bone Douluo repeated nonchalantly, continuing to sip his tea.

“Hm?” Sword Douluo stared at his old friend in disbelief. Has he lost his mind? Ning Fengzhi and Ling Yuan also looked at him, confused.

Bone Douluo’s relaxed expression suddenly froze, his eyes widening as he spat out his tea. “Pfft—what?! Fengzhi, did you just say 77th level?!”

He didn’t even wipe his mouth before turning to Ning Fengzhi, while Sword Douluo laughed mockingly.

“Haha! I thought you had gotten tougher, old bones,” Sword Douluo snickered.

Ning Fengzhi couldn’t help but smile and nodded. “Uncle Bone, you heard right.”

Bone Douluo ignored Sword Douluo’s teasing and gazed into the distance, his face full of amazement. “What on earth did that kid grow up eating to advance so quickly?”

Ling Yuan pressed her red lips into a smile as she watched Qian Renjue in the distance, looking rather flustered, with a glint of intrigue in her eyes.

—

“Wah…” Ning Rongrong was crouched on the ground, sobbing with her head down and muttering complaints in a muffled voice.

“Big liar, meaner than Rongrong, you big bully! It’s all Brother Holy Son’s fault; he promised to visit me, but all he does is send me junky things. I don’t care about those useless toys!”

“You’re absolutely right, it’s all my fault,” Qian Renjue said, gently patting Ning Rongrong’s back. He comforted her softly, “Please stop crying, Rongrong. Brother Holy Son knows he was wrong.”

“Wah…” Ning Rongrong choked with tears, unable to stop for a while. Eventually, she looked up with teary eyes at Qian Renjue, pouting.

“Does Brother Holy Son…not like Rongrong?” she asked, her voice full of grievance. “Does he not want to be with Rongrong forever and instead prefers his other fiancées?”

“I don’t dislike you, and I don’t prefer anyone else,” Qian Renjue gently wiped away her tears and softly explained, “It’s just that you’re still young, a bit too innocent.”

“So Brother Holy Son thinks Rongrong is annoying right now? Just like this?” Ning Rongrong glared at him, her lips quivering, about to start crying again.

“Of course not!” Qian Renjue quickly reassured her, carefully wiping her tears. In a gentle voice, he said, “Just as you said, this is all my fault. I made you cry, so how could I ever find you annoying?”

“Really?” Ning Rongrong blinked and squeezed out a few more tears.

“Really,” Qian Renjue said firmly. “Brother Holy Son promises!”

To him, Ning Rongrong wasn’t troublesome, just a bit mischievous.