"Rongrong, my dear daughter."
Ning Fengzhi quietly approached where Zhou Qing and the others stood, intending to ask Ning Rongrong about Zhou Qing's true strength. But he saw her say righteously, "Dad, please mind the occasion. This is not the time to catch up!"
Ning Fengzhi could only sigh helplessly.
After all, the current situation was indeed serious enough. It was not the time for family affection.
As the Sect Leader of the Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, every move he made would draw the attention of others. He had to be careful.
"Hehe."
Seeing her father's awkwardness, Ning Rongrong suddenly laughed, skipped to his side, stuck out her tongue mischievously, and said, "I was just joking. Don't be so serious."
"This isn't really a formal occasion anyway."
"Fine, you even dare to joke with your own father now!"
Ning Fengzhi was speechless, though the corners of his lips curled up slightly. He realized that his daughter was still the same daughter, unchanged—the lively, mischievous "Little Witch." She merely looked far more proper on the surface.
Sword Douluo also walked over at that moment. He glanced at the three figures confronting one another with their imposing auras in the center of Spirit Mountain's summit, then asked Ning Rongrong, "Little Rongrong, tell Grandpa Sword—how much have you learned about Zhou Qing over these years?"
"Learned? Grandpa Sword, which aspect do you mean?" Ning Rongrong asked with a crooked smile.
"Uh..."
Sword Douluo was speechless, then asked in return, "Could it be that you—"
"What are you thinking, Grandpa Sword? What kind of nonsense is going through your head?" Ning Rongrong waved her hand disdainfully, her eyes filled with contempt.
Sword Douluo's face was covered in black lines: ￣□￣｜｜
Had Rongrong become mature and steady?
Why did she seem even more "ill-behaved"