He already knew?
Impossible!
A shockwave crashed through Guan Su’s mind. He couldn’t believe it, shooting a disbelieving glance at Yuan Ji, who was currently fusing with the dragon’s blood. His heart hammered like a war drum. Anxious agitation, like the dense, humid air before a storm, pressed in on him, making it hard to breathe.
“Calm.” A voice as ancient and resonant as a bronze bell suddenly rang out in his mind. Instantly, the restless, irritable Guan Su cooled down.
It’s fine. So what if they know? As long as he followed orders and seized that dragon bone, the entire world would prostrate itself at his feet.
With this thought, Guan Su straightened his posture. “You can’t stop me!”
As his words fell, he gave a wave of his hand. Several Tianji Sect disciples materialized like ghosts, their killing intent palpable. They surged towards Yuan Ji, one after another.
Meanwhile, as the dragon’s blood poured into her, more dormant power within her body was awakened. Memories, once sealed and locked away, now shattered their restraints, flooding back into Yuan Ji’s consciousness.
All surrounding sounds were blocked out. In the profound silence, even a faint breath became remarkably distinct.
Hesitating for a moment, Yuan Ji took a step towards the source of that breath. Somehow, she felt she knew what awaited her.
“You’ve come.”
Reaching her face before the dragon’s breath was the sweet, delicate scent of white jade cake.
Yuan Ji: ?
“Oh. Want some?” Resting on a dragon claw capable of tearing the sky apart was a delicate, fragrant white pastry, perfectly bite-sized.
Yuan Ji: ……?
Yuan Ji opened her mouth, then closed it. She stared at this enormous, chubby dragon covered in golden scales, who was munching on the cake with evident relish. Certain convictions within her mind began to crumble.
She couldn’t… It shouldn’t be like this, should it?
The dragon blinked, lowering its head to sniff Yuan Ji lightly. “Don’t worry, I’m just a remnant wisp of thought.”
“Trapped in that amber for so many years, I was utterly miserable. I’ve finally waited for you.” The dragon slowly rose to its feet as if stretching, its golden pupils fixed on Yuan Ji.
“Was it me who sealed you in that amber?” Yuan Ji looked up at the dragon. This golden form seemed familiar somehow.
The dragon shook its head in response, a hint of playfulness in its tone as it deliberately kept her in suspense. “No.”
“…” Yuan Ji narrowed her eyes slightly, falling silent, just quietly watching the dragon.
The dragon awkwardly rubbed its snout. “Ah, why so serious?”
It lowered its head, nuzzling Yuan Ji’s crown with its forehead. “You already have a guess in your heart, don’t you?”
A dragon’s scales were the hardest armor and the sharpest weapons under heaven. But now, the scales covering this dragon’s body were completely gone, mere phantom outlines clinging to its form.
Yuan Ji’s gaze swept over each scale. Looking closely, the edges of every one were tinged with a scorched yellow.
Hazy memories stirred to life at this moment. An immense, piercing pain rampaged through her soul sea. Yuan Ji’s spirit felt stretched and strained inch by inch. Even with her formidable mental strength, she couldn’t withstand the onslaught of so many memories.
Overwhelmed, Yuan Ji collapsed. A broad figure appeared beneath her, catching her in a gentle, insubstantial embrace.
Just then, guided by a silver firefly, a beam of pale purple light entered Yuanji’s body, transforming into a strong shield that tightly held back the out-of-control memories.
“So, he has already found you.” The dragon’s gaze fixed intently on that speck of silvery light, its eyes filled with nostalgia. “Now it’s my turn.”
The sealed mysteries began to reveal their true forms.
——-
When her eyes opened again, dappled light swayed amidst verdant branches and leaves. A silvery head timidly peeked out from behind a tree trunk.
Realizing this was a memory, Yuan Ji relaxed slightly. Leaning against the tree trunk, she crossed her arms and waited with mild amusement for this “coward.”
The small silver dragon cautiously emerged from behind the tree but didn’t approach the golden dragon sleeping on a higher branch. Instead, it found a patch of dry grass below, turned a couple of circles, tamped it flat with its claws, and curled itself into a ring. Only its slender, long tail rested lightly upon the golden dragon’s shadow.
Merely touching the other’s shadow, seeing that shadow fall upon its own silvery tail, made the little silver dragon shake its head with such joy it could hardly contain itself.
Yuan Ji forcibly resisted the urge to stroke that dragon tail. Her fingers unconsciously traced the shimmering patterns. So bright, she thought. Like a piece of spirit stone.
The memory fast-forwarded, centuries flowing by in an instant.
The little silver dragon was now even larger than the golden one. It was no longer a coward, but a brave young dragon. It proudly carried a crystal-clear ice crystal flower in its mouth, presenting it eagerly to the golden dragon.
“Yuan Ji, look at the flower I picked for you from the back mountain.” When the moon rises, it will refract the moonlight into countless star points. You’ll be able to see the stars even inside your room!
The golden dragon accepted the ice crystal flower. “Thank you, A Shang.”
Then it swallowed the flower whole, chewing with gusto. “Mmm, really tasty!” it mumbled its thanks.
The little silver dragon froze on the spot. Staring at the crystal fragments lingering at the corner of its mouth, it stammered, “As… as long as you like it, Yuan Ji. I’ll go get more from the back mountain!”
“Pfft.” Yuan Ji couldn’t help but laugh. So that’s why the dragon had looked so strange when it saw her eating flowers back then. From this bystander perspective, it was truly something.
Yuan Ji pursed her lips, suddenly craving the taste of that ice crystal flower again.
Unfortunately, the back mountain was the forbidden territory of the little silver dragon’s clan. After being discovered by the elders sneaking in, he was severely reprimanded and never got another chance to plunder the mountain’s flowers.
From then on, the little silver dragon always brought her strange and exotic flowers. Over time, it even learned to transform those flowers into various pastries, which quite satisfied her curiosity.
——-
The memory fast-forwarded again. When it stopped, the golden and silver dragons were gone, replaced by two striking human figures.
“Yuan Ji” lay half-submerged in a babbling stream. Under the warm sun, even the cold stream water felt pleasantly warm. Lying there was utterly comfortable.
“Yuan Ji, Master says every dragon must find their own ‘Dao.’ What is your Dao?” A Shang crouched on the bank, his slender fingers gently combing through the long, dark hair flowing behind “Yuan Ji’s” ears.
Although Yuan Ji was a golden dragon, she had a preference for jet-black hair, saying it made her look much younger. A Shang thought Yuan Ji looked beautiful with hair of any color, enough to make him unable to look away—like the gold nuggets he loved to hold every day, shining brilliantly.
His movements were gentle, as if handling a treasure, as he braided Yuan Ji’s hair. His own long silver hair cascaded down. A Shang stole a cautious glance at Yuan Ji, then subtly wove a strand of his own silver hair into her braid.
“Yuan Ji” propped herself up on the bank, looking up at A Shang beside her. His face was slightly flushed, clearly guilty of some “mischief,” looking utterly sheepish. “My Dao?” she said casually. “To become the River God, soaking in this stream and basking in the sun every day. How delightful.”
“A Shang” nodded, seeming to understand. “Then I’ll become the Earth God. That way, wherever you go, Yuan Ji, I can protect you.”
“Hah, there’s no such thing as an Earth God, little A Shang. If you’re going to be one, be the Heavenly God!” “Yuan Ji” dissolved into laughter, transforming back into her golden dragon form. Her long golden tail flicked, sending water droplets flying.
And that strand of silver hair drifted down, carrying warmth, to settle upon A Shang’s heart.
Witnessing this, Yuan Ji’s expression gradually grew solemn. Her memories presented the most crucial information. Why then, would a seemingly casual “jest” from that day be recorded?
“River God…” Yuan Ji murmured. A truth she could hardly believe seemed to present itself to her, veiled by only the thinnest of gauzes.
——-
The memory fast-forwarded once more, stopping late at night.
A bonfire blazed. Drops of grease slid slowly from a roasting chicken, sizzling and spattering as they hit the flames.
But the person sitting across from Yuan Ji now wore a different face—one Yuan Ji was quite familiar with. It was Qi Yan’s face.
Yuan Ji stepped closer, observing this “Qi Yan” before her, who rotated the roast chicken on a spit while wearing a lonely expression.
“Yuan Ji, Master and the others haven’t returned. I can’t enter the back mountain, so I just caught a wild chicken to roast.”
“I’ve tried so many times. This is definitely the flavor you like. Have a taste.”
“Yuan Ji” accepted it but didn’t eat immediately, instead asking with concern, “Won’t your clan notice you coming out like this?”
“Yuan Ji, have you forgotten? When I use this disguise, my aura changes too. They won’t recognize me. I’ve learned many spells, you know? If I told you, it might even surprise you!” A Shang said proudly, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, right, Yuan Ji. How about you give this form a name? That way, if they ever bump into us, we won’t risk exposing the secret.”
Yuan Ji looked down at the flames that had suddenly risen much higher with the help of the oil, bursting out with colorful light.
A thought struck her. Staring at the backs of the two figures, she murmured, “Qi Yan.”
“Seven-colored flames, Qi Yan…” “Yuan Ji” pondered, picking up a twig and writing carefully on the ground. “How about we call you Qi Yan?”
“Good. Then from now on, when I appear in this form, you can call me Qi Yan.”
—–
The river of memory flowed on. When it stopped again, the surroundings had drastically changed.
The lush green leaves turned ginger yellow as if scorched by fire, and not a blade of grass grew as far as the eye could see. The cracked mud was littered with the corpses of people who had died of thirst from the drought, lying there haphazardly, still being scorched by the harsh sun.
Just taking a breath felt like scorching one’s lungs with flame.
“Yuan Ji, Master and the others have all sacrificed themselves to their Daos to maintain the world’s stability. Now, with the spiritual energy depleted, it’s my turn to go and mend the Heavenly Dao.”
“Stop that!” “Yuan Ji” angrily threw the white jade cake in her hand back at A Shang. “You’re still a young dragon. How much spiritual power can you possibly have?”
She agitatedly flicked her long tail, again and again.
Suddenly, she looked up at the deep night sky, as if comprehending something.
She was born of heaven and earth, nurtured into a dragon by absorbing their spiritual energy. In all the world, her spiritual energy was the most potent.
Mending the Heavenly Dao… that should be her task.
Yuan Ji opened her mouth, about to speak, when she felt a tightness envelop her.
“I’m not little anymore.” A Shang sighed. Now towering over Yuan Ji, he could easily gather her into his embrace. He rested his chin atop her dark hair, speaking softly.
“Yuan Ji, mending the Heavenly Dao is the fate of my clan. Once spiritual energy is restored, you must live joyfully as the River God. Go listen to the wind’s song, bathe in the sunlight, play and lie in the streams…”
If you were to sacrifice yourself to the Dao… I fear I would go mad.
A Shang lowered his eyes, hiding the flicker of madness within them.
Witnessing this, Yuan Ji involuntarily clenched her jaw. The knuckles of her hands, hanging at her sides, turned white from the force, but she didn’t notice.
What fate? She had never believed in fate!
Just as she thought, the Yuan Ji in the memory uttered similar words.
“Fate! I’ve never believed in it! I only believe in myself!”
“Mending the Heavenly Dao—I’ll go.”
“I will return.”
“Yuan Ji” spoke with conviction, but the A Shang before her eyes revealed a trace of sorrow.
In the next moment, Yuan Ji watched helplessly as her own figure in the memory slowly slumped, falling into A Shang’s arms.
The latter then carried “Yuan Ji” into the forbidden back mountain area as if cradling the world’s greatest treasure.
This place, the clan elders had never allowed him to enter, for it was the only spot not watched over by the Heavenly Dao. Apart from his own childhood intrusion, no one else had ever set foot here.
If he hid Yuan Ji here, the Heavenly Dao would not covet her abundant spiritual energy.
A Shang carefully placed Yuan Ji upon his beloved golden stone. Gently, he braided the dark hair behind her ears into a small plait, so she wouldn’t complain about her hair stealing meat from her when eating roast chicken.
“Yuan Ji, sleep for a while.” A Shang held Yuan Ji’s fingertips. A silvery light flashed, and two drops of dragon blood flew out, which he collected into a jade vial.
He meticulously healed her wound until it was fully restored.
A Shang’s jade-like, bamboo-slender fingers lightly caressed Yuan Ji’s face. He slowly bent down, stealing his first, secret kiss from the person he had loved for millennia.
“When you wake… forget about me.”
