Chen Xin's Retreat! Bibi Dong at Level 98, Terrifyingly So!

Since Rongrong did not want to leave, and it appeared she had encountered a great stroke of fortune, forcing the issue would only be counterproductive.

"Very well."

Chen Xin let out a long sigh and cast a deep look at Lin Qiu, as if trying to etch the image of this youth into his mind.

"Since Rongrong is willing to stay, then we shall impose upon you for a few days. Ning and the Sect Master will come to pay a visit at tomorrow's banquet."

Having said this, he lingered no longer. He stepped onto his sword and turned away, transforming into a streak of light that vanished into the horizon.

Watching the back of Chen Xin as he departed, Lin Qiu's expression remained calm.

Platinum Hotel, top-floor suite.

Ning Fengzhi paced back and forth before the window with his hands behind his back. The elegant composure he usually maintained—unmoved even if Mount Tai were to collapse before him—had completely vanished.

"Fengzhi, stop pacing. You're making me dizzy."

Gu Rong sat on the sofa, toying with two smooth jade balls in his hands. Though his words were meant to soothe, his deep-set eye sockets betrayed an equal measure of agitation.

"Uncle Gu, Sword Uncle has been gone for so long without a word. How can I not be anxious?"

Ning Fengzhi stopped his pacing, his gaze fixed intently in the direction of the Pope Palace.

"That is the headquarters of Martial Soul Hall, after all. That woman Bibi Dong has become increasingly erratic and overbearing in recent years. If Rongrong has fallen into her hands..."

"Rest assured."

Gu Rong slammed the jade balls onto the table with a sharp clack.

"That old fellow Chen Xin may only know how to practice his sword and seem like a block of wood, but when it comes to a real fight, the person who can hold him back hasn't been born yet.

Besides, who in this world doesn't give the Seven Kill Sword a bit of face?

Even if Bibi Dong is crazy, she still has to weigh the consequences of completely severing ties with our Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect."

Ning Fengzhi gave a bitter smile and shook his head.

He understood the logic, but the one who had been taken was Rongrong—his only daughter and the future hope of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect.

So-called concern leads to chaos; that was likely the case here.

Just then, a gust of air swirled outside the window.

A white-clad figure landed silently in the center of the room.

Ning Fengzhi and Gu Rong stood up almost simultaneously.

"Sword Uncle!"

"Chen Xin!"

The two hurried forward to meet him, only to see that Chen Xin's hands were empty; the familiar figure of the little witch was not behind him.

Ning Fengzhi's heart skipped a beat, and his face turned pale in an instant.

"Sword Uncle, where is Rongrong? Could it be that Bibi Dong really..."

Gu Rong's hair and beard bristled, his soul power surging violently. The space behind him began to distort, revealing the ghostly image of eerie white bones.

"I knew that crazy woman was up to no good! Chen Xin, did that woman detain her? Let's go! We'll go tear down her Pope Palace right now!"

"Calm down."

Chen Xin raised a hand to press down on Gu Rong's shoulder, his expression terrifyingly grave.

He took a deep breath, walked to the table, poured a cup of cold tea, and downed it in one gulp before speaking slowly:

"Rongrong is fine. In fact... one could say she is doing very well."

"Very well?" Ning Fengzhi was stunned. "Then why didn't you bring her back?"

Chen Xin set down the teacup, a complex look flashing in his eyes, as if recalling that earth-shattering sword strike or marveling at the monstrous talent of that youth.

"It isn't that I couldn't bring her back; it is that she herself did not want to return."

Chen Xin recounted everything that had happened in the side hall.

From the Grass Character Sword Qi—weak, yet capable of severing the void—to the peak ninety-eighth-rank pressure displayed by Bibi Dong, and finally to Rongrong clutching the youth's sleeve and refusing to let go.

After hearing this, the room fell into silence.

A long while later, Ning Fengzhi spoke with difficulty:

"You mean to say... that twelve-year-old Holy Son made you feel threatened with just a single sword-finger? And that Bibi Dong was willing to cross blades with you to protect him?"

"The artistic conception of that sword strike was far beyond anything I have seen in my life."

Chen Xin closed his eyes; the blade of grass swaying in the void remained clearly visible.

"Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I would never have believed such a sword path existed in this world. That youth is unfathomable."

Ning Fengzhi collapsed into his chair, his fingers tapping the armrest unconsciously.

"A twelve-year-old boy who can make Bibi Dong protect him to such an extent, even at the cost of offending one of the Upper Three Sects... It seems the secrets hidden within this Holy Son are even greater than we imagined."

"Then what about Rongrong? Are we just going to let her stay by that brat's side?"

Gu Rong asked, clearly unwilling to accept this.

A flash of ferocity crossed Ning Fengzhi's eyes as he clenched his fists tightly.

"Although that girl Rongrong is usually mischievous, she is by no means someone who doesn't know the gravity of a situation."

"How could she possibly abandon the comfortable life at home and insist on staying by a strange boy's side as some sort of maid?"

"It must be that the Martial Soul Hall has cast some bewitching spell, or used some means to threaten and intimidate Rongrong!"

"..."

At the mere thought of his pampered daughter potentially suffering inhuman torture in that gloomy Pope Palace right now, or even being forced to curry favor with that so-called Holy Son, Ning Fengzhi's heart felt as if it were being twisted by a knife.

"Preposterous! This is simply going too far!"

Ning Fengzhi slammed his hand heavily onto the armrest, his usually refined face covered in frost.

"Tomorrow is the banquet at the Martial Soul Hall. When the time comes, in front of all the heroes of the world, I will definitely demand an explanation from Bibi Dong!"

"If Rongrong has lost even a single hair, my Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect will make the Martial Soul Hall pay the price, even if it means exhausting our entire fortune!"

Meanwhile, in a side hall of the Pope Palace.

The Ning Rongrong whom Ning Fengzhi imagined was "suffering inhuman torture" was currently kneeling on a cushioned footstool, her two fair, delicate hands balled into loose fists, diligently pounding away at a long, slender leg.

"Big Brother, how is this pressure? Is it too heavy?"

Ning Rongrong tilted her head up, her lively, sparkling eyes full of obsequiousness, a smile so sweet it could kill plastered on her face.

Where was there any trace of the arrogance and willfulness of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's little witch?

She was even three parts more obedient than the most well-behaved maid at home.

Lin Qiu leaned back against the bed, flipping through an ancient book in his hand without even lifting his eyelids, merely letting out a lazy "Mn" from his nose.

"A little higher. Right, that's the spot."

"You got it!"

Ning Rongrong agreed with such crisp alacrity that her hands worked even harder, her eyes darting to gauge his reaction as she massaged.

"Big Brother, look, I've been massaging for so long, my hands are getting a bit sore..."

Lin Qiu closed the book and glanced at her with a half-smile.

"Wanting to slack off?"

"How could I!"

Ning Rongrong immediately straightened her back and said righteously, "Being able to serve Big Brother is Rongrong's blessing! I just... I just feel that your leg muscles are so perfectly defined, I'm afraid my clumsy hands might mess them up."

This flattery was delivered so smoothly it left no trace at all.

Lin Qiu chuckled softly, not bothering to expose her little schemes.

Ever since this girl had eaten that Nine Wonders Ganoderma and tasted the benefits, her mind was now entirely occupied with how to squeeze more good things out of him.