As they made their way towards the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Clan's headquarters, the journey was anything but relaxing for Yue Guan and Gui Mei. The opulent carriage, provided by Ning Fengzhi, felt more like a pressure cooker to the two Super Douluo.
'Do you think Her Holiness will be furious with us for this?' Yue Guan's thoughts were filled with anxiety as he mentally spoke to Gui Mei, his usually flamboyant demeanor replaced by a nervous fidgeting of his fingers.
'It's highly likely,' Gui Mei responded grimly, his ghostly form seeming to ripple with unease. 'Taking the Holy Son to another powerful clan's territory without her explicit permission… this could be seen as a grave transgression. We should have insisted he stay at the academy.'
Despite their internal turmoil, both Super Douluo remained vigilant, their senses constantly scanning for any potential threats to Song Qing. They flanked him closely within the carriage, their movements subtle yet undeniably protective. Even Song Qing, engrossed in watching the passing scenery, could feel a faint undercurrent of tension emanating from them.
Ning Fengzhi and Bone Douluo, seated opposite them, both subtly twitched their brows, noticing the almost palpable tension radiating from the two Spirit Hall powerhouses. They exchanged knowing glances, a silent communication passing between them.
'They are on edge,' Ning Fengzhi thought, a hint of unease creeping into his mind despite his outward calm. 'It's as if they expect an attack at any moment. Perhaps their concern for the Holy Son is even greater than I initially thought.'
'Their vigilance is almost suffocating,' Bone Douluo mentally agreed, his gaze occasionally flicking back towards the two Super Douluo, his hollow eyes narrowed slightly. 'Let's just hope their paranoia doesn't provoke any unnecessary misunderstandings. We have no intention of harming the boy.'
Meanwhile, Song Qing, nestled comfortably between these powerhouses, seemed completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere.
He was too busy looking out the window of the luxurious carriage, his eyes wide with childish curiosity at the passing scenery. The world outside the Spirit Hall's familiar walls was a vibrant tapestry of unfamiliar sights and sounds.
'So this is the territory of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Clan,' he thought, a small smile on his face. 'It looks quite prosperous. Lots of pretty buildings and… are those spirit beast stables?'
Soon, the carriage arrived at a magnificent estate, its grandeur easily rivaling that of the Spirit Hall. Intricate carvings adorned the towering gates, depicting seven-colored pagodas and various precious gems. The air hummed with a subtle energy, a testament to the powerful Spirit Masters residing within. This was undoubtedly the heart of one of the Upper Three Sects, a place steeped in history and power.
Ning Fengzhi, his demeanor now more relaxed, led Song Qing through the sprawling grounds. Beautifully manicured gardens stretched as far as the eye could see, filled with exotic flowers and rare spirit plants.
It wasn't long before they reached a beautiful courtyard, bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun, where a young girl was playing.
She had light brown hair that bounced with every movement and bright cyan eyes that sparkled with youthful energy.
Standing beside her, a tall, slender man with a powerful aura, his gaze filled with gentle affection, watched her with a fond smile – Sword Douluo, Chen Xin.
"Rongrong, look who has come to visit," Ning Fengzhi said, his voice gentle as he approached his daughter, a warm smile gracing his lips.
Ning Rongrong, who was in the middle of a game involving tossing a small, intricately carved ball into the air and catching it with impressive dexterity, turned her head, her bright cyan eyes widening slightly as she saw Song Qing. A faint blush dusted her cheeks.
'Wow,' she thought, her gaze lingering on the exceptionally handsome boy who was around her age. He had an air of quiet confidence and an undeniable charm that set him apart.
She had seen many talented youngsters in the clan, but this boy… he had a certain captivating charm, and his dark eyes seemed to hold a depth beyond his years.
"Father, who is this?" she asked curiously, her voice soft and melodious, her gaze still fixed on Song Qing.
Song Qing stepped forward, a friendly smile on his face, his dark eyes sparkling with genuine warmth. "Hello! My name is Song Qing," he said, his voice bright and cheerful, radiating an innocent charm. He looked directly at Ning Rongrong, his gaze open and inviting. "Would you like to play with me?"
Ning Rongrong's cyan eyes lit up with delight. Play? Normally, her father would be gently guiding her towards more cultivation-focused activities or reminding her of the importance of proper etiquette. The only people she usually got to play with were her Grandpa Bone or her Grandpa Sword, and while she loved them dearly, their games often turned into rather intense, albeit friendly, competitions. The prospect of playing with someone her own age, someone new and interesting, was genuinely exciting.
She turned to her father, her eyes wide with unspoken plea, her small hands clasped together in anticipation. Ning Fengzhi chuckled softly, understanding her eagerness perfectly, and nodded encouragingly. "Go ahead, Rongrong. Be careful, though. This is the Holy Son of the Spirit Hall. You must be very polite to him."
Ning Rongrong, however, barely registered her father's words. Her attention was already completely fixed on Song Qing. With an eager squeal of delight, she grabbed his hand. "Yes! Let's go play over there!" She tugged him towards a corner of the courtyard filled with a delightful assortment of colorful toys and games, her energy infectious.
As the two children ran off, their laughter already echoing through the courtyard, Yue Guan and Gui Mei remained close, their gazes never leaving Song Qing. They positioned themselves discreetly nearby, their powerful auras subtly shielding the young Holy Son.
'She seems… exceptionally energetic,' Yue Guan thought, watching Ning Rongrong enthusiastically explain the rules of a complex-looking string game to Song Qing.
'Let's just hope she doesn't accidentally trip him or anything,' Gui Mei responded nervously, his ghostly form flickering slightly with anxiety. Their relief at seeing Song Qing interact with a child his age was constantly overshadowed by their unwavering worry about his safety.
Sword Douluo, who had been watching the interaction with a bemused expression, his hand resting gently on the hilt of his sword, turned to Ning Fengzhi, his brow slightly furrowed.
"Fengzhi, what's with those two?" He gestured subtly with his head towards the two shadowy figures lurking near the edge of the courtyard.
Ning Fengzhi sighed softly, a hint of weariness in his eyes, and quickly recounted the spiritual message he and Gu Rong had received from the two Spirit Hall Super Douluo during their conversation in his office. Sword Douluo's thick brows shot up in surprise, his hand instinctively tightening on his sword hilt.
"They are saying that the Pope will flatten our entire clan if this child gets hurt?" His voice was low, filled with a mixture of disbelief and a healthy dose of concern.
He stared at Song Qing, who was now giggling as Ning Rongrong tried to demonstrate the intricate finger movements required for the string game. The image of the powerful Spirit Hall unleashing its full might upon their clan because of a child was both absurd and terrifying.
Sword Douluo couldn't help but feel a profound sense of unease. The Spirit Hall's protectiveness was truly astonishing, bordering on fanatical. He exchanged a worried glance with Ning Fengzhi and Bone Douluo, who had also joined them in their watchful observation. The atmosphere around them, despite the cheerful sounds of children playing, remained subtly tense.
Meanwhile, Song Qing and Ning Rongrong were thoroughly engrossed in their games, a world away from the anxieties of the adults observing them.
Ning Rongrong, despite her upbringing as the pampered princess of a powerful clan, possessed a genuinely kind and playful nature.
She eagerly explained the rules of various ground-based games that were popular among some of the younger members of her clan, games involving intricate patterns drawn in the dirt with small sticks and colorful stones, requiring agility, quick thinking, and a surprising amount of strategy.
There were no flashy soul skills involved, just pure, unadulterated childhood fun. Song Qing found himself genuinely enjoying her company.
Her boundless energy was infectious, and her laughter, bright and cheerful, filled the courtyard like the tinkling of tiny bells.
He found her slightly spoiled nature more endearing than annoying, and he genuinely appreciated her willingness to play with him so wholeheartedly despite knowing his lofty status within the Spirit Hall.
"This game is called 'Star Catchers'!" Ning Rongrong exclaimed, her cyan eyes sparkling with excitement as she pointed to a complex pattern of lines and circles drawn in the soft earth. "You have to try and tag me before I reach the star right in the middle!"
Song Qing grinned, his own competitive spirit igniting despite his earlier boredom. "Alright, Ning Rongrong! But don't think I'll go easy on you just because you're a girl!" He lowered his stance, ready to give chase.
Ning Rongrong giggled, her laughter light and carefree. "Oh, you wish! I'm the fastest Star Catcher in the whole clan!" With a burst of surprising speed, she darted across the dusty ground, her light brown hair bouncing behind her.
They played for what seemed like hours, the warm afternoon sun casting long shadows across the courtyard. Their laughter echoed through the air, mingling with the gentle rustling of leaves in the nearby trees.
They chased each other, jumped over lines drawn in the dirt, and strategized their next moves with the utmost seriousness that only children could muster.
As they played, a natural camaraderie blossomed between them, and they instinctively began to use more familiar terms.
"You can just call me Rongrong, you know," Ning Rongrong said, panting slightly after a particularly energetic round of 'Dragon's Leap', a game involving hopping over increasingly larger stones.
"Okay, Rongrong," Song Qing replied, a warm smile spreading across his face. "And you can call me Qing. That's what all my close ones call me."
Ning Rongrong's eyes widened slightly, a hint of shyness momentarily returning to her expression before being quickly replaced by a bright smile.
"Qing?" she repeated softly, testing the sound of his name on her tongue, a small smile playing on her lips. "Okay, Qing!" She giggled, and they both ran off to start another game, the tense atmosphere surrounding them momentarily forgotten in the simple, unadulterated joy of childhood play.