An elegant middle-aged man strode into the hall, accompanied by a white-robed elder. Had Tang San and Xiao Wu been present, they would have recognized him immediately — he was the same bidder they had encountered at the auction, the one even Prince Xue Xing did not dare provoke.
And this man was none other than Ning Rongrong's father — the clan master of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan, Ning Fengzhi, renowned as the continent's greatest support-type Soul Master.
Ning Fengzhi spotted his daughter at a glance and quickly strode toward her. "Girl, why are you turning your back on your father? It's been almost a year — Dad has missed you terribly!"
Ning Rongrong spun around sharply. "Missed me? Yeah, right. You were probably glad I wasn't around."
Ning Fengzhi looked at his daughter's puffed-up cheeks and felt a pang of tenderness in his heart. He sat down on the sofa first, then reached out to pull her into an embrace. To his surprise, Ning Rongrong twisted away and dodged.
Having failed to hug his daughter, Ning Fengzhi was taken aback. Although he was a support-type Soul Master, his Soul Power had surpassed the seventh tier — the sheer volume of energy had thoroughly transformed his body, making him far stronger than any ordinary person.
Ning Rongrong had inherited his Martial Soul, making her a support-type as well. Yet even though he had simply reached out casually, his speed was by no means slow, and his daughter had evaded him with ease.
Ning Rongrong was oblivious to her father's astonishment. She darted straight toward the white-robed elder and threw herself into his arms. "Grandpa Sword, Grandpa Sword — I missed you to death! Wuu wuu..." After such a long separation from her family, she was still a young girl at heart, and the rush of emotion brought tears streaming down her face.
The white-robed elder hurriedly cradled her delicate frame against him. "There, there, my little treasure — you're finally back. Grandpa Sword missed you too! Missed you more than you can imagine."
Ning Rongrong lifted her head. "Really?"
The white-robed elder replied solemnly, "Of course it's real. If you don't believe me, ask your Grandpa Bone."
Ning Rongrong blinked her clear, bright eyes. "But just now Grandpa Bone told me he missed me a little bit more than you did."
"He's talking nonsense." The white-robed elder showed not the slightest deference to the withered old man. "It's obviously me who missed you more."
"You're the one spouting nonsense." The withered elder shot up from the sofa. He was a terrifying figure — standing nearly two and a half meters tall, with a hoarse, gravelly voice that made him look all the more fearsome.
"Don't believe me? Fine — let's go find a place and settle this one-on-one," the white-robed elder shot back, puffing out his chest and glaring at the other without a shred of intimidation.
"Alright, alright. Uncle Sword, Uncle Bone — you two have been at each other's throats your entire lives. Rongrong just got back; let it go for today," Ning Fengzhi said helplessly, looking at the two old men before him.
"Hmph." The white-robed elder and the withered elder both let out a snort at nearly the same moment, neither willing to look at the other. Their gazes settled on Ning Rongrong instead.
Ning Rongrong's bright eyes darted about, and she declared, "I know a way to prove which of you grandpas missed me more."
Ning Fengzhi slapped his own forehead and thought to himself — the little demoness is a little demoness after all; the moment she comes back, the household erupts into chaos. He couldn't help but say, "Rongrong, don't speak nonsense."
Ning Rongrong stuck out her tongue at her father. She was clearly not the least bit afraid of him — otherwise she would never have earned the nickname "little demoness." "You don't even miss me, and you won't let the two grandpas miss me either! I came all this way back, and you weren't even home. Grandpas, here's what we'll do — each of you give Rongrong a gift. Whoever gives Rongrong the gift she likes best, that's who missed her more."
"Uh..." The two elders exchanged a glance, both thinking the exact same thing — how is it always this trick again?
Ning Fengzhi suppressed his laughter. "Alright, Rongrong, come here. Let Dad have a look at you. Who said Dad doesn't miss you? Dad has a gift prepared for you, you know. But if you don't behave yourself, there won't be a gift."
"A gift? What is it?" The moment she heard the word "gift," Ning Rongrong's interest was clearly piqued. She bounded over to her father in two quick steps.
Ning Fengzhi raised his hand with a calm expression, reaching to pull his daughter into an embrace once more. But once again, Ning Rongrowing's body turned nimbly aside, and she dodged his hand with ease, puffing out her little lips. "Hand over the gift first — no hugs until I get it."
This time, it was not just Ning Fengzhi who was surprised. The two elders also exchanged a look of shock.
Because of the unique nature of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda, even a Titled Douluo could not discern her true Soul Power level.
Ning Fengzhi's mind stirred, and he asked, "Rongrong, tell Dad first — what level is your Soul Power now? If you've made progress, then Dad can give you your gift."