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Ye Lingling then realized her blunder, hastily withdrew her hand, and two blushes immediately flew onto her fair, pretty face.
She lowered her head, stirring the soup in her bowl, her silver hair falling to perfectly hide her burning ear tips.
Feng Xiao feigned ignorance, nonchalantly picking up a tender piece of fish and putting it into his mouth.
Only the subtle curve at the corner of his lips betrayed his good mood at the moment.
Sunlight filtered through the window frame, casting dappled shadows on the dining table between them, accentuating the delicate atmosphere of the moment, making it exceptionally warm.
The noise of the cafeteria seemed to fade away, leaving only the crisp clinking of cutlery.
Ye Lingling secretly stole a glance, finding Feng Xiao's focused profile as he ate particularly handsome in the light and shadows, and her heart couldn't help but beat a little faster.
Ye Lingling's fingers tightly clutched the edge of her robe, her knuckles turning slightly white.
She took a deep breath, finally mustering the courage to raise her eyes, her voice as light as a willow catkin falling: "Little Feng, what do you think of me?"
As soon as the words left her lips, she immediately lowered her head, her silver hair falling to cover her crimson cheeks.
The food on the plate had long since grown cold, reflecting her flustered, dodging image.
Feng Xiao's chopsticks hovered in mid-air, the smile on his lips gradually freezing.
The cafeteria's noise seemed to suddenly recede, leaving only the sound of his own accelerating heartbeat.
He noticed Ye Lingling's fingertips trembling slightly.
"Sister Lingling," he put down his chopsticks, his voice much deeper than usual, "You are the most gentle girl I have ever seen."
His fingertips gently lifted her chin, making her look directly into his eyes.
Sunlight passed through the gap between them, casting overlapping shadows on the ground.
Feng Xiao's thumb gently wiped away a smudge of soup from the corner of her mouth, and he whispered, "Just like Nine-Hearted Begonia, seemingly cold and aloof..." His fingers slid along her hair to the hairpin, "...but actually holding the most healing power for the heart."
Ye Lingling's eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings, casting delicate shadows on her porcelain-white skin.
She suddenly grabbed Feng Xiao's wrist as he was about to withdraw his hand, her fingertips slightly white from the force: "Then, then do you like..."
Before she could finish, a rush of hurried footsteps approached, and Ning Rongrong's clear voice rang out like a silver bell: "Little Feng, I heard you—"
Their gazes met in the air, as if even time stood still.
Ning Rongrong paused slightly as she looked at the two of them, the sunlight behind her casting a golden rim, making her slender figure appear especially delicate.
Her gaze fixed on their clasped hands, and a sudden, inexplicable pang of bitterness welled up in her chest, as if something of hers had been snatched away.
A sycamore leaf, falling outside the window, got stuck in the door crack, and the cafeteria's clamor suddenly seemed distant.
Ning Rongrong's fingertips unconsciously rubbed behind her back, as she forced a smile: "Am I interrupting?"
Her voice held a tremor she didn't even notice.
Her skirt swayed slightly in the cross breeze, and the tip of her shoe unconsciously scuffed the ground.
Ye Lingling hastily pulled her hand back, her silver hair cascading down like a waterfall with the movement.
Feng Xiao, on the other hand, felt a sense of relief in his heart, covering his momentary lapse with a light cough: "Rongrong, is something wrong?"
His peripheral vision, however, involuntarily glanced at Ye Lingling's already crimson ear tips, which were particularly noticeable against her silver hair.
Ning Rongrong lowered her gaze, her voice a few shades softer than usual: "Nothing."
The tip of her foot unconsciously drew circles on the ground, "I just heard you were back, and then I heard about your changes."
The moment she looked up, she forced a bright smile, "I was just curious, so I came to see."
Sunlight filtered through the window frame behind her, casting dappled shadows on her exquisite profile.
Feng Xiao noticed that she had specially changed into the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School's elaborate attire today, and the jeweled hairpin in her hair sparkled with tiny rays of light in the sunlight—this was clearly not a spur-of-the-moment outfit.
The air in the cafeteria seemed to freeze, and the three fell into a delicate silence.
Feng Xiao opened his mouth, but didn't know how to break the awkwardness.
Ye Lingling gently put down her chopsticks, her silver hair falling with the movement of her lowered head, covering her flushed cheeks.
She whispered to Feng Xiao, "Little Feng, I... I'm full.
You eat slowly," her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, "I still have classes arranged by the Academy this afternoon, I... I'll go first."
As she spoke, she hastily stood up, but accidentally knocked over the soup bowl beside her.
Feng Xiao quickly steadied it, their fingers inadvertently touching again, and then both simultaneously recoiled as if shocked by electricity.
"Be careful!" Feng Xiao hadn't finished speaking when Ye Lingling had already quickly left, leaving only a faint floral scent lingering in the air.
Her retreating figure seemed a little flustered, her silver hair glowing with a soft halo in the sunlight, gently swaying with her hurried steps.
Watching Ye Lingling's hurried departure, Feng Xiao turned to look at Ning Rongrong, a complex emotion arising in his heart.
Sunlight filtered through the window, casting dappled shadows on the dining table between them.
He sighed inwardly, facing the bright young girl before him, he didn't know how to begin to speak.
His fingertips unconsciously rubbed the edge of the plate, and Feng Xiao lowered his gaze—for Qian Renxue, he had indeed schemed against Oscar, this was an undeniable fact, though from another perspective, he also changed the fate of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School in the original story.
"Rongrong, have you eaten?" Feng Xiao asked softly, his voice tinged with hesitation, his slender fingers unconsciously tracing the patterns on the chopsticks.
Ning Rongrong slowly came back to herself, her colorful glazed hair ornament reflecting fragmented light in the sunlight.
She nodded, her voice a few shades softer than usual: "I have."
Her fingers twisted the exquisite embroidery on her skirt.
Feng Xiao quickly changed the subject: "Are you here to find me for cultivation?"
He quickly shoveled a few mouthfuls of rice, pretending to be relaxed, "Wait for me a moment, I'll be done soon."
The sycamore leaves outside the window rustled, and Ning Rongrong, seeing Feng Xiao's deliberately avoiding gaze, softly said, "No need."
She forced a smile, "I just came by to see, and you really are different."
As she stood up, her skirt brushed against the corner of the table, knocking down a sycamore leaf that had drifted in at some unknown time.
Before she finished speaking, Ning Rongrong had already turned and quickly left.
She walked faster and faster, eventually breaking into a run, her colorful glazed hair ornament tracing a brilliant streak of light in the sunlight.
Feng Xiao subconsciously stood up, but only saw her hurried figure disappear around the cafeteria corner.
Looking at the direction Ning Rongrong disappeared, Feng Xiao's lips curved into a helpless bitter smile, and he muttered to himself, "This girl ruined my good deed, and then she ran away first."
He shook his head, his slender fingers gently tapping the table.
Sunlight filtered through the window frame, casting dappled shadows on his handsome profile.
"Oh well, this is fine too."
Feng Xiao sighed softly, slowly stood up, and headed towards his room, holding "Fuxi."
Soon, at the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School, in the Sect Master's study.
Ning Fengzhi was holding a brush, reviewing the Sect's documents, and the scent of sandalwood wafted from the desk.
Suddenly, with a "bang," the study door was violently pushed open.
"Rongrong?" Ning Fengzhi looked up in surprise, only to see his daughter burst in, her glazed skirt fluttering with her hurried steps.
"Father, I don't want to go to Heaven Dou Royal Academy anymore."
Ning Rongrong got straight to the point, her voice carrying a rare determination.
Ning Fengzhi's brow had just furrowed when the space beside him suddenly twisted.
Gu Rong stepped out of the void and whispered a few words in his ear.
As Bone Douluo narrated, a look of realization gradually appeared on Ning Fengzhi's refined face.
"So that's how it is."
The wolf-hair brush in his hand paused on the Xuan paper, spreading a blot of ink.
Outside the window, a gust of autumn wind swept fallen leaves across the pavilion, adding a touch of desolation to this sudden turn of events.
Ning Fengzhi gazed at his daughter's pouting profile, his fingertips gently tapping the desk.
Now that the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School's potential crisis had been alleviated to a certain extent, he naturally had enough time to choose the most suitable person for his daughter.
Although Feng Xiao was exceptionally talented and indeed a rare talent, how could he, as the Sect Master of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School, allow his beloved daughter to suffer such grievances?
Just as he was about to reluctantly agree, a rush of hurried footsteps suddenly came from outside the study.
A Sect disciple's respectful voice sounded through the door: "Sect Master, there is an urgent matter to report."
"Hmph!" Ning Rongrong slammed the teacup onto the desk, the spilled tea spreading a wet stain on the valuable rosewood.
Gu Rong quickly stepped forward to comfort her, his withered hand gently patting her shoulder: "Rongrong, be a good girl, tell Bone Grandpa what's wrong."
Ning Fengzhi rubbed his brow helplessly, and called out towards the door: "Come in."
His voice held a hint of weariness.
The ginkgo leaves outside the window drifted down with the wind, mirroring his chaotic thoughts at that moment.
A Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School disciple respectfully entered the study, bowing to the three in turn: "Sect Master, Elder Bone, Miss."
Ning Fengzhi put down the wolf-hair brush in his hand and said in a deep voice, "Speak."
"Yes."
The disciple bowed slightly, "The Oscar you previously instructed us to find, we have a lead on him."
Before the words finished, the teacup in Ning Rongrong's hand fell to the ground with a "clatter," the spilled tea wetting her exquisite skirt.
A sharp glint flashed in Gu Rong's eyes, and his withered fingers unconsciously tightened their grip.
Ning Fengzhi, meanwhile, slowly rose, the sunlight from the window casting his long shadow on the bookshelf behind him, as if even the heavy tomes held their breath at that moment.
"Continue."
Ning Fengzhi's voice was very soft, yet it seemed to lower the temperature of the entire study by several degrees.
The disciple unconsciously swallowed, fine beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.
"Our people found his tracks in the far north," the disciple reported cautiously, "At that time, he was with an unfamiliar woman.
When our people tried to bring him back..." He paused, sweat beading on his forehead, "...at least Spirit Douluo-level powerhouses secretly intervened to stop us."
Ning Fengzhi's slender fingers gently tapped the desk, and before he could speak, Ning Rongrong suddenly stood up, her glazed long skirt knocking over the tea table: "How could he be with another woman?"
Her voice was laced with an undisguised tremor.
"This... Miss, please forgive me, your subordinate truly does not know."
The disciple lowered his head in alarm, looking to Ning Fengzhi for help.
A cold wind swept in from outside the window, scattering the documents on the desk.
Gu Rong thoughtfully stroked his beard, while Ning Fengzhi reached out and pressed his daughter's slightly trembling shoulder: "Rongrong," his voice was gentle yet brooked no argument, "Let the disciple finish speaking first."
Ning Rongrong bit her lower lip and sat back in her chair, her fingertips digging deeply into her palms.
The colorful glazed hair ornament reflected chaotic light spots in the sunlight, mirroring her turbulent emotions at that moment.
"Did you discern the origin of that expert?" Ning Fengzhi's voice was still gentle, but his knuckles were rapping a dull sound on the desk.
The disciple lowered his head in shame: "Your subordinate is incompetent.
That person remained hidden in the shadows, only using spirit power pressure to deter us, and did not reveal their Spirit True Body."
He knelt on one knee, "We couldn't even tell if the opponent was male or female."
The study was silent for a moment, only Ning Rongrong's rapid breathing was clearly audible.
She clutched her skirt tightly, her nails almost digging into her palms.
Gu Rong sighed, his withered hand gently pressing on her shoulder, but he felt the girl's slender body trembling slightly.
Outside the window, a gust of north wind swept withered leaves against the window frame, making a rustling sound.
Ning Fengzhi looked at his daughter's pale profile, and suddenly waved his hand, signaling the disciple to retreat: "Continue the investigation, but do not alarm them."
The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School disciple seemed to have been granted a great pardon, hastily bowed and exited the study, not forgetting to gently close the door behind him.
As the footsteps faded, Ning Rongrong finally couldn't hold on any longer.
Having suffered a double blow within a single day, her petite body trembled slightly, and her glazed eyes were filled with tears.
"Rongrong—" Gu Rong was about to reach out to comfort her, but the girl had already lifted her skirt and rushed out the door.
"Bang—"
The sound of a door slamming shut heavily echoed from afar, making the wind chimes in the corridor jingle wildly.
Ning Fengzhi looked at the teacup his daughter had knocked over as she left, the amber tea slowly dripping down the edge of the desk, spreading a dark stain on the valuable carpet.
Gu Rong looked at the still slightly trembling door: "Fengzhi, this matter..."
Ning Fengzhi didn't answer, merely gently picked up the glazed hairpin Ning Rongrong had dropped in her haste.
The exquisite patterns on the hairpin left faint indentations in his palm, just like the worries his daughter had etched into his heart at that moment.
In a strange small town in the distant northern lands, twilight enveloped the crooked wooden buildings.
The lanterns along the streets cast faint flickers of light, but within that light seemed to penetrate a hint of blood, distorting the shadows of passersby.
Two travelers, out of place with their surroundings, slowly walked into the town entrance.
The man leading was draped in a gray cloak, his build exceptionally robust; the young man beside him wore a mask, his jawline as sharply defined as if carved by a knife.
When they stepped into the tavern in the town center, the noisy hall suddenly fell silent.
The patrons' murky gazes swept back and forth over the two, and the bartender's motion of wiping a glass also paused.
The gray-robed man—threw a gold coin stained with dark red blood onto the bar, the coin spinning with an uncomfortable hum, carving a shallow, bloody mark on the wooden counter.
"A Bloody Mary."
Tang Xiao's voice was hoarse and deep, and these words made him feel as if he had returned to the days of traveling with Tang Hao many years ago.
The waiter behind the bar expressionlessly collected the bloody gold coin, his movements startlingly practiced.
A moment later, a crimson, murky liquid was pushed in front of him, the surface of the liquid shimmering with eerie foam, emitting a metallic, rusty stench.
Tang Xiao turned to look at Tang San beside him, a hint of unbearable pain flashing in his eyes.
The young man's complexion appeared even more sickly under the tavern's strange lighting.
"Drink it."
Tang Xiao said in a low voice, with an undeniable firmness.
His broad hand pressed on Tang San's shoulder, and he could clearly feel the young man's body trembling.
In the corner of the tavern, several drunkards were staring greedily at the Bloody Mary.
Tang San took a deep breath, reached out and gripped the cold glass, and drank it all in one gulp.