That evening, Wang Xiaoming didn't immediately put 'Ning Rongrong' away.
Now that he had summoned her... he couldn't let her go to waste.
He looked at the obedient 'Ning Rongrong' standing beside him, and a trace of satisfaction welled up in his heart.
If possible, he really wished Ning Rongrong herself could stay this obedient too.
With a thought from him, 'Ning Rongrong' obediently walked to his bedside, knelt on one knee, and began massaging his legs.
"Ah, life should be this simple and unpretentious..."
When he himself was a shota, having a loli happen to appear by his side spared him the punishment of heavenly lightning.
As 'Ning Rongrong' gave him a gentle massage, Wang Xiaoming drifted into a deep sleep.
He slept straight through until the next morning, and his sleep was incredibly comfortable.
After waking in a haze, he kept his eyes closed and gave her an order.
"Go... bring some water... for washing up."
Though the command was vague, 'Ning Rongrong' perfectly understood what he wanted. She immediately stood up and walked outside.
But before long, someone spotted her.
"Hmm? Miss Ning Rongrong? Didn't she just move some things to the east wing? Why did she suddenly come out of the young master's room?
And something feels a little strange..."
Meng Zhuang looked at the departing 'Ning Rongrong' in puzzlement and rubbed the space between his brows.
"Ah, I'm getting old. Even my memory isn't very reliable anymore. I'd better go see how the young master's breakfast is coming along."
At his age, he really had trouble figuring out what young people were thinking.
He didn't know how much longer he could keep his position as steward, either.
'Ning Rongrong' was quick to act, soon returning to the room with a basin of water and a towel.
Hearing the sound, Wang Xiaoming had just opened his eyes and was about to get up.
Suddenly, a pale, delicate little foot rapidly filled his vision and stomped heavily onto his pillow, a mere 0.01 centimeters from his face.
He looked up to see Ning Rongrong standing expressionlessly at the head of the bed, nearly scaring him out of his skin.
"R-Rongrong... when did you get here?"
He hadn't heard a thing.
The Little Demoness's stealth skills had improved again.
Ning Rongrong said nothing. Instead, she glanced sideways at 'Ning Rongrong' out of the corner of her eye, a trace of disdain entering her gaze.
She had just finished putting her things away and come out of her room when she saw an identical 'her' approaching from the other end of the corridor, carrying a basin of water.
She had thought someone had disguised themselves as her and was preparing to assassinate Wang Xiaoming.
But when she saw this stiff-faced 'Ning Rongrong' walk right past the steward, Meng Zhuang, she knew the thing probably wasn't an assassin.
After all, she had never worn such a numb expression.
Unless the steward was blind, he would have recognized her.
She slipped into Wang Xiaoming's room ahead of 'Ning Rongrong', wanting to see what was going on with her.
Sure enough, when 'Ning Rongrong' obediently set the basin on the washstand, she knew Wang Xiaoming had to be behind it!
Wang Xiaoming had just tried to sit up when the little foot beside him shifted direction and planted itself on his chest, pressing him back down.
At the same time, Ning Rongrong spoke.
"You really know how to have fun, Xiaoming. Where did you find this one? Get me one too. I want a 'Wang Xiaoming' to help me wash up."
Wang Xiaoming's throat bobbed.
The Little Demoness was seriously angry.
"What person? How come I don't see anyone? Rongrong, your eyes must be playing tricks on you."
At a time like this, he wouldn't admit it even if he were beaten to death, much less tell her that he'd had the fake wait on him all night...
He snapped his fingers, and 'Ning Rongrong', who had been standing by, instantly dissolved into layers of glowing card images and vanished from the room.
"Hmph."
Seeing how quickly he had destroyed the evidence, Ning Rongrong snorted coldly, then nimbly jumped off the bed.
Wang Xiaoming sat up and watched Ning Rongrong leave, a bad feeling rising in his heart.
I got caught playing with a doll. What do I do? Waiting online, urgent...
Little did he know, Ning Rongrong wasn't angry because Wang Xiaoming had made the fake fetch water for him to wash his face.
It was because the bastard didn't treat her as a friend at all and was actually keeping secrets from her!
As a result, she didn't give him a pleasant look throughout breakfast.
Wang Xiaoming's premonition had been right.
As Meng Zhuang served the dishes beside them, Ning Rongrong's revenge began.
"Young master, this dish of creamed chickpeas..."
Rong: "He doesn't like beans. Take it away."
"...There's also braised velvet bone mushroom mycelium over baked crisps."
Rong: "His teeth aren't good. Bring it to me."
"..."
Seeing Ning Rongrong claim every dish brought to the table, Wang Xiaoming immediately grew anxious.
"Hey, Ning Rongrong, don't push it! Are you trying to starve me to death at the dining table?"
Holding his chopsticks and soup spoon, Wang Xiaoming looked at the empty table before him and the food already piled up in front of Ning Rongrong, and voiced a serious protest.
She was doing this purely to get back at him!
If he couldn't eat delicious food, what joy was there left in life?
She had seized on exactly that point and chosen to strike at the dining table.
Ning Rongrong ignored Wang Xiaoming. Instead, she picked up a crisp and took a bite, crunching away with an expression of enjoyment.
"Mmm~ So delicious."
Wang Xiaoming was at a loss for words. There was no reasoning with this Little Demoness.
He took a deep breath and looked at Meng Zhuang, who stood respectfully at the side with his hands lowered. "Uncle Meng, whatever else is in the kitchen, bring it all out. As long as it's edible..."
"No. There. Isn't."
Ning Rongrong cut in, enunciating each word. "Uncle Meng, this is all the kitchen made this morning, right?"
The wrinkles on Meng Zhuang's old face twitched twice. He looked at his young master's face, turning green with hunger, then at the little ancestor from the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect. After a moment's hesitation, he chose to play it safe.
"Young master... there really isn't any extra food in the kitchen.
"Well, the man in charge of collecting night soil seems to have stepped in some night soil and fallen into the pit, and he's too stuffed. This old servant must take his place disposing of the night soil today. Please, both of you, enjoy your meal."
With that, Meng Zhuang hurried off, showing what it meant to be old but still vigorous. In less than three seconds, he had vanished from the dining room.
Ning Rongrong: "..."
Though Meng Zhuang was gone, his words had thoroughly disgusted Ning Rongrong.
He had repeated "night soil" three times in a single sentence.
Her chopsticks were still holding a crescent pastry coated in chocolate sauce, but now it looked wrong no matter how she looked at it... her head was full of night soil.
Ning Rongrong tossed her chopsticks onto the table and gave Wang Xiaoming a disgruntled look.
"He really is your good steward... Hmph, eat, eat. I'm full anyway. It's all yours."