The afternoon sun shone through the glazed lattice windows, scattering fragments of gold across the tabletop.
Fine motes of dust drifted through the air, gently stirring as Ning Rongrong leaned forward.
"Hehe. Holy Son, just tell me."
"Did Dugu Yan become so strong because of you? I don't believe she had that kind of ability herself."
Her fingers lightly tapped the table twice, their tips painted a pale pink, like peach petals fallen upon sandalwood.
She leaned forward at just the right angle. Her moon-white off-the-shoulder dress tightened slightly, revealing the smooth curve of her shoulders and a small patch of creamy skin beneath her collarbones, gleaming like pearls in the light.
She tilted her head, curiosity nearly overflowing from her gaze.
The corners of her eyes rose slightly, carrying a faintly alluring curve.
"Just tell me, okay?"
Ning Rongrong's voice softened, wrapped in a trace of sweetness as she coquettishly shook Li Qinglian's arm.
Ning Rongrong was the sort who quickly got familiar with people.
She knew that if she wanted to pursue a man, being reserved definitely would not work.
With some men, all she had to do was press at the right time, and they would take the bait.
But a man like Li Qinglian, while not uninterested in women, did not lack women even if no one took the initiative.
For a man like that, she had to understand that when a woman pursued a man, only a thin veil stood between them!
"More or less."
Li Qinglian did not deny it.
As his words fell, Zhu Zhuqing's knuckles turned faintly white as she clenched the edge of her sleeve—yet that tiny movement caught Li Qinglian's eye like a ripple passing across a lake.
Ning Rongrong's eyes immediately lit up, as though a tiny flame had