"Meng Chen," Ning Rongrong said with a wicked grin, "come clean. Did you get some incredible opportunity? During the last Soul Master tournament, you were still a Soul Emperor. It hasn't been that long, and you're already a Soul Douluo. We haven't seen each other in ages—what kind of bad things have you been doing behind Zhuqing's and my backs?"
Meng Chen: "..."
He thought for a moment before deciding to tell the truth. "Pure talent."
"You!"
Ning Rongrong flew into a rage.
She refused to believe it, no matter what.
As a genius herself, she had run into freaks of nature twice in a row. It was devastating.
Ning Rongrong marched straight over, grabbed Meng Chen by the collar, and snapped, "Why are you all such monsters? Are you trying to make the rest of us die of frustration? Tell me, have you two been secretly getting special training behind our backs? Or do you know some cultivation method we don't?"
When she mentioned cultivation methods, Ning Rongrong suddenly remembered how Bibi Dong had once suspected Meng Chen of being a Soul Beast.
She immediately interrogated him. "You're not actually a Soul Beast who refuses to submit until death, are you? Where are you hiding the claws and tail of your Soul Beast clan?"
As she spoke, Ning Rongrong began groping Meng Chen all over.
Meng Chen hurriedly warded her off. "Hey, hey, what are you doing? This isn't right!"
Ning Rongrong refused to let up. "Tell me quickly! If you don't, I'll find them myself!"
She reached out and pressed his biceps first, then followed the contours of his muscles, feeling them carefully.
"Wow." She let out a soft gasp. "Your abs are so solid. How do you train normally? Cultivation alone couldn't possibly produce muscles with this