I Know How to Turn the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda into the Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda...

Sure enough.

Ning Rongrong's eyes immediately narrowed.

The two words she could least stand in her life were: being ignored.

If you argued with her, she thought that was normal. If you knelt before her, she thought that was only proper. But treating her like air?

Slap.

A delicate gold silk pouch was slammed heavily onto the fortune-telling table, producing a weighty, muffled thud.

Ning Rongrong's willow-leaf brows rose sharply, and a teasing smile curled at the corner of her lips as her crisp voice lifted:

"I have a matter to attend to. Since you're so capable, Master, why don't you tell my fortune?"

Yang Xing raised his brows.

Unhurriedly, he reached out, took the gold silk pouch, loosened its drawstring, and glanced inside.

Gold Soul Coins. An entire pouch full.

He looked for two seconds, then turned his gaze back to Ning Rongrong, asking half-questioningly, half-statingly, "It seems you come from a wealthy family." After a pause, he added, "I seem to recall you mentioning a Title Douluo earlier?"

When Ning Rongrong heard that, a trace of pride finally appeared on her delicate face. She crossed her arms, straightened her waist and back, and lifted her chin slightly as she looked at him with undisguised mockery.

"Are you scared now, Master?"

Yang Xing chuckled and shook his head.

He pinched a Gold Soul Coin from the pouch, deftly retied the opening, and pushed it back in front of Ning Rongrong.

"It's not that I'm scared. You gave me too much, and I can't make change."

He held up the Gold Soul Coin and spun it between his fingers. "Since you're from a wealthy family, Miss, I'll just accept one Gold Soul Coin. In return, I'll answer a few more questions for you and make sure this Gold Soul Coin is well spent."

Ning Rongrong let out a scornful laugh, too lazy even to hide it.

"Then I hope you'll keep your word, Master."

Her gaze stayed fixed on Yang Xing, and beneath her gentle features, strands of coldness seeped through. "Otherwise, I'm not so easy to fool."

Yang Xing naturally sensed the barb in her words.

Yet his expression did not change in the slightest. He waved his palm-leaf fan, leaned back against his chair, and assumed an excessively relaxed posture. "Go on. What do you want to ask? One Gold Soul Coin is enough for me to reveal quite a few secrets of heaven."

Seeing his demeanor, a surge of anger shot straight to Ning Rongrong's head.

She maintained a dignified, quiet expression on the surface, but her teeth were already itching from how hard she was clenching them.

"Fine."

She took a deep breath and spoke—

"Since you're so capable, Master, then tell me my name, my age, my identity, my hobbies, my background, and why I came here—"

She spoke faster and faster, each question tumbling out in a string.

"What my father's name is, and what my father does—"

At last, she stopped and tilted her head at Yang Xing. Her cute, playful pose carried blatant intentional difficulty.

"And tell me what I'll do to you if you fail to figure it out, or get it wrong."

Her eyes curved into crescents.

"Guess what this young lady will do to you?"

After saying that, Ning Rongrong crossed her arms and waited confidently.

The twelve-year-old girl was certain he would not be able to answer.

One second.

Two seconds.

Yang Xing did not respond immediately.

Ning Rongrong's smile deepened. She was already planning how to deal with this fraud once he failed to answer—

Then she saw Yang Xing raise his right hand.

His index and middle fingers came together and made a light pinch in the air.

A fortune-calculating gesture.

Very pretentious.

Ridiculously pretentious.

But then he spoke.

His tone was calm, as though he were reciting a menu.

"Your surname is Ning, and your name is Rongrong. You are twelve years old this year."

Ning Rongrong's smile froze.

"As for your identity, you are the daughter of Ning Fengzhi, Sect Master of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect."

At this point, Yang Xing deliberately paused. He put on an appropriately startled expression, the movement of his palm-leaf fan stopping for half a beat as he deliberately lowered his voice and added gravity to it.

"The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect... huh."

Then he continued.

Under Ning Rongrong's wide-eyed, stunned gaze, he went on reciting as though chanting scripture—

"Your hobby is playing pranks. You are a support-type Soul Master, yet you always want to be an attack-type Soul Master. Your background is one of the three great sects of the world—the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, the only one truly rich enough to drip oil."

Ning Rongrong's breathing noticeably quickened.

"The reason you came here was to enroll in an academy called Shrek... hm, some no-name academy."

When he said "no-name academy," he even nodded slightly, looking very much in agreement.

"Your father, Ning Fengzhi, is the current Sect Master of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect. If I had failed to calculate it, there would be no need for you to order me around. Those people your father assigned to you—"

"Enough!"

Ning Rongrong abruptly cut him off.

Her face darkened.

Completely darkened.

Because she had already felt the gazes of the passersby who had gathered to watch, falling upon her one after another.

Her identity, her sect, her father's name—

For a fortune-teller to announce all those things loudly in public was no different from stripping her naked.

Ning Rongrong took a deep breath.

The gentle and proper expression she had maintained before was gone without a trace. In its place was a frosty, grave look, like a predator scrutinizing its prey.

She stared fixedly at Yang Xing.

"You know me."

It was not a question. It was a statement.

Yang Xing shook his head.

"Or—" Ning Rongrong lowered her voice. Her delicate little face moved close to the tabletop, her slim waist leaning forward until she was nearly pressed right in front of Yang Xing. A faint fragrance accompanied her words, but the words themselves carried a chill. "My father sent you."

Yang Xing still shook his head.

He continued to narrow his eyes inscrutably, his smile undiminished.

"I calculated it myself. Miss Ning Rongrong, if you truly refuse to believe me, there's nothing I can do."

There was even a hint of helplessness in his tone.

The particularly infuriating kind of helplessness.

Ning Rongrong's pupils contracted slightly.

She completely put away all her playfulness and girlish sweetness. In that instant, her entire aura changed. What the twelve-year-old girl revealed now was the side of her that everyone in the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect and Heaven Dou City called the "Little Devil."

"Then only one possibility remains."

Her voice was extremely soft and low, kept within a range only the two of them could hear.

"You are a thief who has been plotting for a long time and waiting here for me."

She stared into Yang Xing's eyes and enunciated each word. "If you admit it now, I can pretend nothing happened."

After a brief pause.

"Otherwise, don't blame this young lady for being impolite."

Her exquisite smiling face, so close at hand, radiated genuine coldness.

Yang Xing felt it.

To be honest, Ning Rongrong had guessed perfectly. He really was a thief who had been plotting for a long time and waiting here for her.

But so what?

Whether this display meant Ning Rongrong had indeed cleverly noticed the truth, or whether she was simply mixed with frustration and intended to overturn the chessboard outright—

Yang Xing had already accumulated all the leverage he wanted.

His expression remained utterly unchanged, calm as ever. He even had the leisure to admire the pretty face before him at close range.

Then, instead of answering, he asked a question.

"Then, Miss Ning Rongrong, what do you think it would take for you to believe I'm not a fraud?"

His palm-leaf fan swayed lightly.

"Or rather, how can I prove that I haven't deceived you?"

The light in Ning Rongrong's eyes turned completely cold.

In the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect and Heaven Dou City, she was someone everyone called the "Little Devil." Not a single person who provoked her had ever met a good end.

She was just about to speak.

But Yang Xing beat her to it.

His tone remained calm, as though he were merely commenting that the weather was nice today:

"Or rather—"

"If I told you that I know how to turn the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda into the Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda."