Clear-Headed Ning Rongrong

He had seen fathers being screwed over, but never screwed over this badly. And those two Titled Douluo—they had gone looking for trouble without even figuring out their opponent's strength.

Well, now they had gone looking for trouble and gotten themselves killed. If it had only been an ordinary low-level Soul Master, it would have been one thing, but Gu Rong had been one of the pillars of his sect.

The more Ning Fengzhi thought about it, the more he fumed. With a sweep of his sleeve, he strode out of the hall toward Ning Rongrong. This time, he had to teach her a lesson.

Otherwise, if she kept acting so lawlessly, the sect would sooner or later be destroyed by her hands.

Chen Xin knew what he intended to do. He raised a hand to stop him, but suddenly froze.

Perhaps Ning Rongrong truly needed to grow up a little. Old Bones was already dead, and he himself did not know when that woman would come seeking revenge.

He could only hope that Old Bones's death would bring Ning Rongrong even the slightest bit of maturity.

"Alas."

Chen Xin's faint sigh echoed through the now-empty hall. In an instant, he seemed to have aged several decades, and all the vigor in him vanished in the blink of an eye.

He slumped into his chair. After a long while, his vigor gradually returned, because the sect still needed him. At the very least, Rongrong still needed him.

So he could not show such dejection yet. But for some reason, his back seemed to have bent slightly, no longer standing as straight as a drawn sword.

"Hehe~" Ning Rongrong was lying facedown at the table in her room, pen in hand as she wrote something. A sheet of paper was nearly