Yu Xiaogang: Am I Also Part of Your Play?

Now that she heard Qian Ren Shuang had come back—her one and only backer had returned—she was overjoyed, hurriedly grabbing her clothes and pulling them on.

But halfway through, she suddenly stopped. She glanced at her messy hair in the mirror, then at her red, swollen eyes, and couldn't help muttering softly, "Looking like this..."

She quickly smoothed her hair, then slapped her cheeks hard, trying to make her complexion look a little better, before she continued getting dressed.

"Rongrong!" Guilmon crouched by the door, unable to keep its mouth shut as it added, "After Qian Ren Shuang heard about this, he rushed back in a panic and even prepared a gift for you."

Qian Ren Shuang glanced at Guilmon. "What gift did I prepare?"

"Aren't you the gift?" Guilmon pointed with its claw at Yu Xiaogang, whom Qian Ren Shuang was carrying in his hand, and answered with perfect confidence.

Good grief. Deliberately leaving out a few words when it talks—when did it learn to be so sneaky? Qian Ren Shuang silently griped in his heart as he looked at Yu Xiaogang in his hand.

Yet just then, Qian Ren Shuang heard a soft laugh slip out from inside the room, like a pebble tossed into a calm lake, sending ripples spreading out in circles.

"By the way, you healed your cracked arm bone that quickly?" Ning Rongrong rustled about inside the room as she got dressed, chatting through the door. Her voice was much lighter than before. "That healing soul master must be amazing."

"Of course." Qian Ren Shuang leaned against the doorframe. After being praised like that, his tail was practically about to rise to the heavens, and the corners of his mouth wouldn't stop lifting. "Who do you think I am? How could someone without real skill be part of my connections?"

After all, he had healed his cracked bone himself. Didn't Ning Rongrong's praise basically amount to praising his own brilliant methods? It felt wonderful to hear.

"Braggart." Ning Rongrong laughed softly from behind the door, her voice carrying a touch of happiness.

Another five minutes passed before the door finally opened.

Ning Rongrong stood in the doorway. Her eyes were still somewhat red and swollen, and the tip of her nose was red too; one glance was enough to tell she had cried hard earlier.

But she had clearly tidied herself up. Her hair was neatly combed, her clothes were properly arranged, and she had even lightly pressed her lips together to make their color look a little better.

That proud little face of hers, usually so arrogant, still carried a lingering trace of grievance at this moment. Her lips were slightly pouted, but her gaze first landed on Qian Ren Shuang's face for an instant, as if confirming something, before she looked away.

However, when her gaze passed over Qian Ren Shuang's shoulder and landed on Yu Xiaogang behind him, whose face was smeared with blood and whose hair was all crooked and messy—

Ning Rongrong's expression instantly went from clear skies to cloudy. Without another word, she turned around and moved to shut the door.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Qian Ren Shuang reacted quickly, reaching out to brace against the door. With extreme ease, he resisted Ning Rongrong's force as she tried to close it and forced his way into her room.

After all, he was forcing his way in to explain things to her, so at this point Qian Ren Shuang couldn't care about etiquette. Once he barged into the room, he stretched out his hand, turned his body, and pinned her against the wall.

At that moment, Qian Ren Shuang had almost half-trapped Ning Rongrong in his arms.

Not good, not good. In some romance storybooks, this posture is called a wall slam. Though an age difference of a little over eleven years isn't something I can't accept, this is way too impatient...

Just like how on Earth, when there were no phones to play with, people could still watch television; going even further back, there was listening to music, reading novels, cuju, cricket fighting, watching dogs fight...

No matter the world, whatever everyone's main task was, they would always develop other forms of entertainment.

And Douluo World was a world especially full of male-oriented and female-oriented wish-fulfillment stories.

Ning Rongrong froze for half a beat because of his posture. Her back pressed against the door, she tilted her head up to look at him, her cheeks faintly flushing, though her mouth remained unforgiving. "You, why are you standing so close..."

"Close?" Qian Ren Shuang himself didn't notice at all and even lowered his head to glance at her. "Your door is only this big. If I didn't hold it, it would've closed."

Qian Ren Shuang looked down at Ning Rongrong and said in a tone that allowed no refusal, "I already taught him a lesson just now. Gangzi, apologize to Rongrong right now!"

The word "Gangzi" made the corner of Ning Rongrong's mouth twitch. She poked half her head out from under Qian Ren Shuang's arm to look at Yu Xiaogang. "Really?"

"Gangzi, if you keep dawdling, don't blame me for doing it to you again!" Qian Ren Shuang turned his head and glared fiercely at Yu Xiaogang, but the hand braced against the wall never came down, keeping Ning Rongrong firmly pressed against it.

Yu Xiaogang shuddered all over. Standing at the doorway, he bent at the waist, his voice dull. "I'm sorry, Ning Rongrong... I shouldn't have forced you to run with everyone..."

Upon hearing Yu Xiaogang apologize to her, Ning Rongrong's expression visibly improved.

Only then did she slip out from under Qian Ren Shuang's arm. Standing in the doorway, she crossed her arms over her chest, raised her chin slightly, and looked at Yu Xiaogang down her nose—that expression was the very picture of a petty person getting their way. Where could anyone still see even the slightest trace of her earlier grievance?

But the spot where she stood happened to be within half a step of Qian Ren Shuang's side, her shoulder almost touching his arm.

Then she began pushing her luck, borrowing another's power to take another jab at him. "Good that you know! I'm the daughter of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's sect master. The capable people around me are far stronger than you! If they say running isn't much use, then it isn't much use. Why were you insisting on arguing with me?"

Halfway through speaking, her gaze finally landed again on Yu Xiaogang's crooked-necked face. Seeing the miserable state he was in, with blood and ash all over his face, a large patch of skin scraped off his forehead, and several locks of hair torn out, she was immediately dumbfounded.

Ning Rongrong pointed at Yu Xiaogang, then turned her head to look at Qian Ren Shuang. "You did this?"

"Yeah." Qian Ren Shuang nodded very calmly, his tone as if he were saying the weather was nice today. "Reasoning didn't work, so I had no choice but to discuss a little physics with him."

Ning Rongrong opened her mouth and looked at Qian Ren Shuang's unconcerned face, then suddenly realized he had beaten Yu Xiaogang like this to vent her anger for her.

It was as if something had gently bumped against her heart, leaving it sour and swollen. But what came out of her mouth was only, "...You were too heavy-handed." Her voice, however, was a little lower than before, the end of it soft, as if she were saying "thank you."

"When did you reason with him?" Guilmon, unable to keep watching from the side any longer, couldn't help rolling its eyes and bluntly roasting him. "You went straight to physical methods the moment you arrived. Where was the reasoning process?"

"Ahem, wasn't I just in a hurry..." Qian Ren Shuang coughed awkwardly. His gaze unconsciously flicked toward Ning Rongrong, then quickly moved away again. In his heart, he silently made a note: Guilmon's ability to undermine him was getting better and better.

Yu Xiaogang stood to the side, his face turning blue, then white. In his heart, he silently cursed: You're amazing. You're so noble.