"Holy Son, come play with Rongrong together with Sister Hu Liena!"
Su Yu sat up, and a smile rippled through his eyes at the sight of her excitement. "Sure, but you'll have to wait until I've washed up."
"Yay! That's wonderful!"
Ning Rongrong immediately cheered, then hurriedly covered her mouth, afraid of disturbing anyone else. But her eyes, curved into crescents, had already betrayed her happiness.
The morning mist gradually dispersed, and sunlight filled the Holy Son Hall, illuminating two figures, one tall and one short. The atmosphere was especially harmonious.
Late that night, in the palace Spirit Hall had arranged for Ning Fengzhi and his companions.
Ning Fengzhi sat in the seat of honor. The tea before him had long since gone completely cold, and his fingertips tapped lightly against the table, his expression grave.
Sword Douluo Chen Xin and Bone Douluo Gu Rong sat on either side, both looking relaxed. Clearly, having been summoned in the dead of night, they had yet to make sense of the situation.
"Fengzhi, what exactly did you call us here for so late at night?"
Chen Xin spoke first, his voice carrying some of the night's husky depth. Ning Fengzhi drew a deep breath and looked up at the two of them, his tone unusually solemn. "Uncle Jian, Uncle Gu, I want to arrange a betrothal for Rongrong."
With a clatter, the teacup slipped from Gu Rong's hand and fell onto the table.
His eyes widened, and he could scarcely believe his ears. "What did you say? Arrange a betrothal for Rongrong? How old is that girl? What's the rush?"
Chen Xin abruptly straightened as well. His half-closed eyes suddenly opened, and his sharp gaze settled on Ning Fengzhi's face. "Fengzhi, Rongrong is only four. Her Martial Soul hasn't even awakened. Why