Chapter 77: Rongrong, Time for Chicken Soup

As a fellow auxiliary-type Spirit Master, Oscar wouldn't face the same problems as others. Furthermore, he knew that Ning Rongrong came from the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan, the home of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda martial soul, which meant she was undoubtedly part of the clan's core bloodline. Her position in the clan was undoubtedly high.

If he could win her favor, he would have the backing of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan—a dream for any auxiliary-type Spirit Master. The clan was a sanctuary for auxiliary-type soul masters, not only housing those with the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda martial soul but also attracting top-tier auxiliary martial souls from all over. It was the most comprehensive and renowned source of knowledge on auxiliary-type cultivation in the world.

Though Oscar was currently at Shrek Academy, he knew that the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan would be the best opportunity for his future.

To Oscar, Ning Rongrong was the perfect partner.

And yet, it all seemed impossible now.

There was only one reason—he was too late.

Oscar couldn't blame Zhao Ming; after all, no girl belongs to anyone from the start. It all came down to personal ability.

"Hey, man, what are you thinking about?" Zhao Ming asked as he watched Oscar's expression shift between bitterness, hope, and disappointment.

"Nothing." Oscar shook his head firmly.

"And what about that chicken soup?" Zhao Ming asked casually.

To Oscar, it sounded like Zhao Ming was accusing him. After all, Zhao Ming was Ning Rongrong's boyfriend, and here he was bringing food to her. If it had been anyone else, he might have received a slap by now.

Luckily, Zhao Ming had a good temper, or things could have turned ugly. Oscar mentally sighed with relief.

"I don't need it anymore," Oscar said hurriedly, treating the pot of chicken soup like a hot potato he couldn't wait to get rid of.

"You're really going to throw away such fragrant soup? Why? You should give it to Rongrong." Zhao Ming frowned.

Seeing Zhao Ming's expression, Oscar assumed he was angry. "I really don't need it. I'll go throw it away right now," he said quickly, moving toward the trash bin outside the dorm.

"What's the point of throwing it away? You're so strange. If you don't want it, I'll take it," Zhao Ming said, grabbing Oscar's arm to stop him from wasting the soup.

Seeing that Zhao Ming wanted the soup, Oscar eagerly handed it over and, after confirming that Zhao Ming wasn't upset, breathed a sigh of relief.

"Rongrong must be hungry after running so much. I'll take this to her," Zhao Ming said, opening the pot. The rich aroma of chicken filled the air, and Zhao Ming spotted a few medicinal herbs inside. He didn't know much about herbal medicine, but he could tell these were nourishing ingredients.

"Wait, what did you just say? Rongrong?" Oscar suddenly felt something wasn't right.

That's right, Rongrong had been running around the village, just like him. With her weaker physique, she should have finished much later than he did. Could it be that Rongrong had only just returned?

And after all that running, she wouldn't have the energy to do anything with Zhao Ming, right?

"Rongrong just got back, and I carried her here. I'm exhausted," Zhao Ming added just in time.

Hearing this, Oscar's body trembled.

Now he understood why Zhao Ming was so sweaty—he had been carrying Rongrong.

Oscar let out a sigh of relief.

"What's the matter, brother? You didn't think I was doing something inappropriate with Rongrong, did you?" Zhao Ming asked, holding the pot of chicken soup, his face turning serious.

"No, of course not!" Oscar replied with an awkward smile.

"Good. I thought that's what you were thinking. Although I, Zhao Ming, am no saint, Rongrong is a well-bred young lady, not the type for such behavior," Zhao Ming said, his tone firm.

"Don't worry, brother. I know what kind of person you are, and I'd never doubt Rongrong's character," Oscar said, laughing as he patted Zhao Ming on the shoulder.

"That's good. I'll take this soup to Rongrong," Zhao Ming said, carrying the pot toward the girls' dormitory.

Oscar stood there, watching Zhao Ming head toward the dorm, a smile plastered on his face.

But as soon as Zhao Ming disappeared from view, Oscar's face darkened. His expression grew more and more bitter.

He had misjudged the situation. There was no improper relationship between Rongrong and Zhao Ming, after all. But the future? That was another story.

The thought of his carefully prepared chicken soup being delivered to Ning Rongrong by Zhao Ming made Oscar want to cry.

He had spent the entire day running at full strength, finishing the task a quarter faster than usual just so he could prepare this soup for Rongrong.

And now, the soup he worked so hard to make was gone. Worse yet, had he just unintentionally helped the enemy?

Oscar felt bitter, but he couldn't blame anyone else.

The misunderstanding had been entirely his fault, and he had given the soup to Zhao Ming willingly. Zhao Ming hadn't done anything wrong.

"Forget it. As long as Rongrong's still single, there's still a chance," Oscar told himself as he headed back to his dorm. After running twenty laps, he was exhausted and just wanted to sleep.

Inside the girls' dormitory, Ning Rongrong wasn't in the room. She was most likely still in the shower.

Zhao Ming didn't linger. He set the chicken soup on her table and quietly left.

Not long after Zhao Ming left, Ning Rongrong came out of the bathroom, towel-drying her damp hair, only to see the pot of chicken soup on her desk. Tired and hungry from running, the aroma of the soup made her mouth water.

But just as she was about to start eating, something came to her mind. Limping slightly, she walked outside.

Outside, Zhao Ming was slowly walking away.

Watching his retreating figure, all the anger and resentment Ning Rongrong had felt toward Zhao Ming dissipated.

A sense of sweetness filled her heart.

Back at the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan, many people had brought her gifts. But those people always made a big deal about how much effort they had put into preparing the gifts, seeking her gratitude and recognition.

But Zhao Ming wasn't like that.

He hadn't said a single word.

[•———•———•———•]

𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙟𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙮. 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚!

𝗦𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝘁𝗼:

• 𝙅𝙘𝟭𝟮𝟬𝟮

• 𝘼𝙝𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙟𝙖𝙝

• 𝗝𝗮𝗰𝗼𝗯 𝗠𝗼𝗲𝗲

𝗔𝘀 𝗮 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘂𝗻𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸:

• 𝗘𝘅𝗰𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀: 𝙂𝙚𝙩 𝟭𝟴𝟱+ 𝙖𝙙𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚.

• 𝗘𝘅𝗰𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁-𝗢𝘂𝘁: 𝙍𝙚𝙘𝙚𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩!

𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝘂𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽𝘀 𝗺𝗲 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘂𝗻𝗶𝘁𝘆. 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗲𝘁, 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗷𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘂𝘀!

👉 𝙅𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙣𝙤𝙬: 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙤𝙣.𝙘𝙤𝙢/𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙊𝙛𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

💬 𝘼𝙡𝙨𝙤 𝘼𝙫𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚: 𝙈𝙮 𝘼𝙙𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙏𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩! 𝙐𝙣𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙛𝙤𝙧 $30—𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 10% 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩! 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙙𝙚: 𝗚𝗢𝗗𝗢𝗙𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥.

𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙂𝙋𝙏 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙮 𝘼𝙙𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙏𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝘾𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙀𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙣-𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙮, 𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙣𝙪𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙡. 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙦𝙪𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙪𝙡𝙩𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙖𝙡 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙨, 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙚𝙣𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚!

👉𝗦𝗵𝗼𝗽: 𝙋𝙖𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙤𝙣.𝙘𝙤𝙢/𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙊𝙛𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧/𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙥