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Even though Ning Rongrong's grilling motions were still a bit rough and unfamiliar, the dozen Titled Douluo had no intention of caring.
As long as the skewers got made—
who cared about dignity?
Just then, someone tip-toed over with a flattering smile plastered on his face.
Bone Douluo.
"Rongrong, look~" he started obsequiously, rubbing his hands.
"If Grandpa Bone hadn't spoken up for you, would you be enjoying such good treatment now?"
His smile was so wide it squeezed his eyes into slits.
"And we are family after all. Grandpa used to dote on you so much, right?"
Ning Rongrong didn't even lift her head.
She simply answered with a faint, emotionless "Mm."
Bone Douluo immediately grew bold.
He leaned in close, voice dropping.
"Then… Rongrong… Grandpa's 'hardship fee'… one spirit bone for fifteen skewers…"
"…can Grandpa get it… waived?"
"After all… we're family!"
The moment the words came out—
A dozen cold, hostile, judgmental glares instantly locked onto Bone Douluo.
Oh, you shameless little fossil.
Still trying to get special privileges?!
Ning Rongrong's hand paused mid-turn.
She finally lifted her head, eyes still slightly reddish from crying.
Her face was calm.
"Waived?"
She repeated softly.
Then shook her head.
"No."
Bone Douluo's smile froze.
"Not only can it not be waived…"
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Your price is going up."
"Others pay one spirit bone for fifteen skewers."
"You, Grandpa Bone—"
She deliberately emphasized the "Grandpa."
"Ten skewers.
And you owe me one spirit bone."
"PFFFFFF—!!"
Bone Douluo nearly sprayed blood on the spot.
His eyes widened; he pointed at himself in disbelief.
"Why?! Why is mine more expensive?!"
Ning Rongrong calmly returned his stare.
"Who told you to sell me out so decisively earlier?"
Bone Douluo choked.
Face purple.
No words.
He shuffled away, dejected, squatting in a corner to draw circles on the ground.
Around him came waves of suppressed laughter.
You deserved this, Gu Rong!
Utterly deserved it!
Bone Douluo felt his anger building with nowhere to go.
He snapped his gaze toward Devil Bear Douluo.
"You! Just wait for me, old man!"
"When Rongrong finishes grilling, I'll return one immediately!"
"Spread your legs, wash up, and wait for me!"
"Today either you burst, or I die!"
Devil Bear Douluo trembled, clamping his legs together, face pale.
"D-Don't talk nonsense! Senior's rules say only the skewers you grill yourself count!"
Bone Douluo instantly deflated.
"You're not acknowledging it?"
The two were about to start another round of "egg crisis" when Ghost Douluo finally sighed.
"All right, enough. Both of you shut up."
He naturally sided with Devil Bear, being from Spirit Hall.
Then he casually changed the subject.
"Gu Rong, why did you only bring Zhuyun, the Spirit Messenger, back?
Where's Ning Fengzhi?
Where's Sword Douluo?"
Silence.
Every Titled Douluo turned to look at him.
Bone Douluo froze stiff, as though struck by lightning.
His eyes bulged.
Damn.
Sect Master!
The old swordsman!
He was so busy indulging in skewers he completely forgot about them!
"They're… fighting Tang Hao."
Bone Douluo said seriously, now pale.
"The Sect Master was afraid the Spirit Messenger would be injured.
So he told me to bring her back first to report."
Tang Hao.
To the outside world—
Spirit Hall's most wanted criminal.
The man who hammered Qian Xunji, the previous Supreme Pontiff, to death.
This name should have ignited fury, hatred, and battle intent.
Indeed—
Qian Renxue, sitting with Qian Daoliu and delicately sipping beer, froze.
Her golden eyes instantly filled with murderous hatred.
Hatred for her father's death.
Bone Douluo nodded secretly.
As expected.
But—
What he expected next did not happen.
The other Titled Douluo—
Including Golden Crocodile Douluo—
merely blinked.
Then their eyes drifted toward Lin Feng's table.
Bibi Dong—slightly tipsy, cheeks rosy—
was practically leaning on Lin Feng's shoulder, holding two wine cups, whining softly to drink "cross-cupped wine."
Everyone took one look.
Turned away.
And resumed their normal expression of—
"Oh. That so?"
Golden Crocodile Douluo even shouted:
"Girl! My portion—make it extra spicy!"
Bone Douluo was dumbfounded.
And then?
And then NOTHING?!
This was Tang Hao!!
The murderer who killed their former Supreme Pontiff!
Shouldn't they be screaming in rage—
grabbing their spirit weapons—
and rushing off to fight to the death?
Where was the fury?
The righteousness?
The dignity of Spirit Hall?!
Of course, if Bone Douluo knew the truth—
he would understand.
Qian Xunji's "hatred"?
A joke.
Except for Qian Renxue, who truly believed her father died to Tang Hao—
Every high-level member of Spirit Hall knew the truth:
Qian Xunji was killed by—
his own disciple.
The current Supreme Pontiff, Bibi Dong.
As the senior put it:
"This was the fruit between the two Pontiffs."
And as for the "cause"…
Let's not even mention it.
Qian Daoliu considered it the greatest humiliation of his life.
Thus—
to preserve Spirit Hall's "glorious reputation,"
Tang Hao became the perfect scapegoat.
Delay skewers over a scapegoat?
Dream on.
Seeing their indifference, Bone Douluo finally exploded.
"What is wrong with all of you?!"
"Tang Hao smashed us with his rotten hammer, scared Zhuyun half to death!"
He intended to emphasize Tang Hao's danger.
But the moment he finished—
The atmosphere changed.
A dozen Titled Douluo slowly turned their heads—
But this time—
Their eyes were red.
Not from anger.
But from…
Homicidal intent.
A chill ran down Bone Douluo's spine.
What… what did I say?!
Qian Daoliu, silent until now, slowly stepped forward.
He grabbed Bone Douluo by the collar—
Lifting him effortlessly like a chick.
His voice was ice-cold.
"Repeat what you just said."
The killing intent around them sharpened—
Not for Tang Hao.
But for—
Someone who dared "startle" the Spirit Messenger of the Senior.
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