Ning Rongrong Wants to Be an Angel Investor

Ning Rongrong rested her chin in her hands, sitting quietly to the side and gazing intently at Chen Ling as he dined, a hint of amused interest hidden deep within her eyes.

Once the distance between them closed, the more she looked at Chen Ling, the more intense her satisfaction grew at the bottom of her heart.

This favorable impression was mostly brought about by comparison.

Looking across the entire Shrek Academy, people who caught her eye were few and far few between.

Dai Mubai was a habitual womanizer, and a womanizer with a fiancée at that. As for the remaining Oscar, upon his initial debut he sported a thick, dense beard, and his words and actions exuded oiliness and procrastination everywhere. The most crucial part was that he was also a support-type spirit master.

Based solely on that support-type aspect, Ning Rongrong had already completely vetoed him in her heart; after all, this was a sect rule.

And even in the original story, she seemed to have no choice, since Tang San was taken and Oscar ultimately passed the trials.

Ning Rongrong had no tricks left either. Staying among this group of people all day long, she was almost being assimilated. It was that drive of her own wanting to prove herself that prompted her to stay.

Yet looking at Chen Ling before her now, whether it was his handsome and outstanding looks or his cold, tall, and straight unique temperament, it precisely struck her preferences, making the more she looked at him the more pleasing to the eye he became, and the more she appraised him, the more she grew in appreciation.

Chen Ling was stared at all over by her direct and blazing gaze until he felt completely unnatural, his spine stiffening slightly.

This look was simply far too unmasked, resembling a thirsty thirty-year-old matron seeing a strong, sturdy eighteen-year-old lad.

Before Chen Ling could open his mouth to break this subtle atmosphere, Ning Rongrong took the lead in speaking out, her gaze falling upon the Qingming Sword resting flat by his feet, her tone wrapped in a bit of curiosity.

"Is this your martial soul?" Ning Rongrong blinked her pair of pink, beautiful eyes, putting on a tone that was exceptionally gentle and demure, entirely acting the part of a dignified and poised great family's young miss rather than that lawless little devil princess.

"That's right, it's called Qingming." Chen Ling nodded slowly. He could be considered to have seen it now; this Ning Rongrong seemed somewhat not quite right.

Yet giving it a second thought, a wealthy woman was treating him to a meal, so how was it wrong for him to accompany her in a little chat? He could only say he did not suffer a single loss, belonging to the category of eating his fill, and the two people before him were also sufficiently pleasing to the eyes.

"Qingming Sword..." Ning Rongrong muttered in her mouth, as if she could comprehend some sort of marvelous notion from this name.

In the blink of an eye, she worked up a full measure of interest. With a personality that grew familiar quickly, she immediately leaned forward and chattered away with Chen Ling.

One could only say that having a Titled Douluo grandfather was great; although she did not possess a sword martial soul and was even a purely support-type.

Thanks to the cultivation of Sword Douluo, even though she herself was a purely support-type spirit master with no connection to the sword Dao, under years of subtle influence, her vision and knowledge far surpassed her peers.

Those basic sword moves and routines, force-exerting tips, and sword-controlling techniques all came readily to her, and she explained them with clear logic and every point well-taken.

Zhu Zhuqing sat quietly to the side, holding a cup of juice in both hands and sipping it in small, tiny gulps.

She silently gazed at the two people ahead conversing so happily, a nameless, complicated emotion quietly churning at the bottom of her heart, mostly the envy hidden deep in her bones.

Where was there any natural aloofness? In truth, it was merely being in a harsh and oppressive family environment since childhood, forcing her to wrap herself in a layer of cold and aloof protective coloring used to isolate the surrounding scrutiny and scheming.

She also yearned for this kind of uninhibited and unrestrained conversational atmosphere of getting along.

One person chatted with enthusiasm, one person responded warmly, and the atmosphere at the dining table was relaxed and natural without a shred of awkward stagnation.

Ning Rongrong was full of spirit and enthusiasm the entire time, her words never stopping, while Chen Ling occasionally answered appropriately, maintaining calm and poise.

A moment later, Chen Ling finished his meal, raised a hand to wipe clean his fingertips, and slowly stood up. He bent over to pick up the Qingming Sword beside his feet, speaking out to break the lively atmosphere.

"Alright, your classmates have come looking for you. Don't continue sitting here, lest it breed unnecessary misunderstandings."

Hearing this, the bodies of Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing stiffened simultaneously, instantly snapping back to reality from their relaxed state.

After merely a fleeting second, Ning Rongrong quickly sorted out the cause and effect. Her waist straightened in an instant, puffing out her budding youth.

"It's fine, Chen Ling, don't you worry. Today, as long as I am here, no one will be able to lay a hand on you."

At this moment, Ning Rongrong had long since completely affirmed in her heart that Chen Ling was a hard-to-come-by talent.

Whether it was his outstanding appearance and temperament or his unfathomable true strength, both made her exceptionally approving.

Even if the other party was somewhat older, it was completely irrelevant.

She had learned in the conversation, after all, that Chen Ling possessed an Innate Soul Power of merely rank three. Such ordinary initial talent yet being able to cultivate to his current realm at the age of eighteen made him a proper sword Dao prodigy with infinite potential.

Looking back at Tang San, whom she had previously favored, he was merely Chen Ling's defeated opponent. Comparing the two, the superior and inferior were instantly judged, and he was simply not worth mentioning.

Anyway, she had already grown sick of staying in Shrek, and it was just right to use this opportunity to bolt.

Ning Rongrong instantly chose to switch sides; those who understand the times are wise.

She was dead set on being this angel investment banker. With her, Ning Rongrong, around today, Shrek could forget about touching a single hair on Chen Ling.

"Many thanks for Miss Rongrong's kind intentions."

Chen Ling chuckled lightly, a trace of surprise flashing across the bottom of his eyes. He could tell that Ning Rongrong's words came from sincerity and were not feigned postures, causing a wisp of warmth to involuntarily well up in his heart.

How was this any little witch? She was truly far too kind.

"Just for the sake of the young lady beside you, you should still head back. There's no need to worry on my end; self-preservation is quite sufficient."

"But..."

Hearing this, Ning Rongrong hesitated slightly. She originally wanted to stubbornly stay and protect him, but turning her head to look at the silent Zhu Zhuqing beside her and pondering for a moment, she ultimately nodded slowly.

She raised her eyes to implicitly sweep toward the shadows to the side, quietly giving Chen Ling a reassuring look, then grabbed Zhu Zhuqing's wrist and turned to walk slowly toward the other side of the street.

Before long, a group of people hurried over from that direction.

Among them was even a figure being supported by others—who else could it be but Tang San?

Tang San originally did not wish to follow rashly, but a strong, ominous premonition inexplicably lingered at the bottom of his heart, as if some extremely important thing was quietly drifting away from him.

This panic drove him, and in the end, he still chased after them. Yet upon getting close, the unease and sense of emptiness in his heart grew even more intense instead.

When his gaze locked onto the tall, straight figure not far away that was lowering his gaze to carefully wipe the Qingming Sword, the primary emotion that swept through his entire body was not anger and unwillingness, but a fear that sank deep into his bones.

The sword qi from his dream that had cleaved him in two still tightly entrenched itself in his heart, unable to subside for a long time.

After the fear passed, thinking that he now had two high-rank Soul Saints as backing by his side, his heart instantly gained a sense of confidence, and he immediately went red-eyed and began panting like an ox.

"Rongrong! Are you alright? Did the other party give you a hard time?"

Oscar was the first to step forward quickly, full of worry as he wanted to reach out and touch Ning Rongrong's wrist to confirm her safety.