The Dragon

Yan’er Bell

One moment, Gu Fuyou was trying to clear the path to the central palace, the next she was nowhere to be seen.

Zhong Michu furrowed her brows, looking around. Not only had Gu Fuyou disappeared, but Gu Huaiyou and the other two were nowhere to be found either.

Normally, Zhong Michu would have immediately sensed something amiss and been on alert. But at this moment, her mind was blank, unable to form any thoughts.

She took a step forward. All around, greenery flourished, white clouds floated in the sky, elms formed forests on the left, and on the right was a jade-green pond.

It was a place of warmth and serenity.

Zhong Michu scratched her forehead and felt something hard. Walking to the pond’s edge, she looked at her reflection in the water.

In the water, she saw a little figure, delicate as porcelain, dressed in a red satin robe with gold embroidery. The reflection had wide, innocent eyes staring back.

Zhong Michu gazed in shock. The reflection showed her having two horns on her forehead.

She grasped one horn, tugged at it, then twisted. With a grunt, she applied more force, causing a slight pain.

“Ouch!” She used too much force and it hurt.

Feeling lost, she began running towards the mountain, hoping to find her master for answers.

Despite her small stature, she moved swiftly through the forest.

In no time, she arrived outside Hechen Pavilion. Before entering, she spotted a familiar blue silhouette and happily exclaimed, “Mother!”

Elder Yunran was walking out, standing on the stone pathway in the courtyard, when she heard the voice. She turned and was visibly shaken by what she saw.

Zhong Michu, without noticing, ran over with joy.

She lived on Gushen Peak, cared for by two sisters. Besides daily lessons from her master, she and the sisters were the only ones on the mountain. Elder Yunran didn’t live with them.

Elder Yunran would visit occasionally, but rarely and briefly. Zhong Michu always looked forward to these visits, even though Elder Yunran often seemed distant and cold.

As Zhong Michu approached, hoping to hold her mother’s hand, Elder Yunran reacted as if she was repelled by something unbearable. She fiercely shook off Zhong Michu, shouting, “Get away!”

Zhong Michu stumbled backward and fell. Confused Confused about why Elder Yunran pushed her so violently, she looked up, seeing her shaking violently.

In a soft voice, Zhong Michu murmured, “Mother…”

“Don’t call me mother!” Elder Yunran’s eyes changed from shock to resentment and anger.

Zhong Michu had never seen Elder Yunran this furious and couldn’t understand what had upset her, but the hateful look in Elder Yunran’s eyes terrified her.

She stood up, a mist began to form around her, making Elder Yunran’s figure hazy. Through the mist, Zhong Michu saw Elder Yunran arguing with someone, holding a sharp, gleaming sword.

Frightened, Zhong Michu backed away and found herself back in the forest.

She continued forward and soon saw some spirit beasts resting ahead. Thinking she’d find comfort, she approached, but the beasts, sensing something, scattered in fear.

Birds flapped away in the sky, and spirit beasts rushed on the ground, creating chaos.

Zhong Michu hurried to catch up, confused, saying, “Why are you all running away? It’s just me.”

Seeing her approach further spooked the spirit beasts.

“Don’t run away. The master has taken away the two sisters who looked after me, and there’s no one left to talk to. Why… just because I’ve grown horns?”

None of the spirit beasts responded, all desperately trying to flee.

She watched their panicked retreat, bitterness and anger welling up in her heart. In a cold voice, she commanded, “None of you are allowed to leave!”

At her command, all the spirit beasts collapsed, paralyzed. A winged white tiger cub fell from the sky, landing before Zhong Michu.

The white tiger, trembling, and even lost control of its bladder.

With eyes shining gold and sharp pupils, Zhong Michu asked, “Are you afraid of me?”

She looked around at the fallen spirit beasts and continued, “Are all of you scared of me?”

Confused and angry, she shouted, “What’s there to be scared of in me?!”

Her outburst was so intense that the white tiger started frothing at the mouth and convulsing.

She was taken aback, having never imagined such a reaction. Feeling frightened, she stepped back and said, “No, it wasn’t me, I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

Seeing the spirit beasts lying on the ground, her fear intensified, and she turned to flee.

She wandered aimlessly, unsure of where to go. By the time she came to her senses, she was standing in Hechen Pavilion’s courtyard.

Winter was coming, the weather was gloomy, and the golden leaves of the ginkgo trees had fallen, leaving behind bare trunks.

Voices were coming from the study. Zhong Michu walked to the door but did not enter.

Listening to the voices, she recognized them as Ji Zhaoling and Elder Yunran.

Her master and mother were arguing about something.

“Sister, why did you place Dongli by her side?” asked Ji Zhaoling.

“Weren’t you looking for someone else to take care of her, someone trustworthy who could suppress her? Dongli is suitable.” replied Elder Yunran.

“You know that’s not what I meant. Do you really want me to say it?”

“I want Dongli to watch her and kill her if necessary.”

“You… she’s still your daughter!”

“If she grows up to be like him, I don’t want her.”

Zhong Michu walked in a daze to the guest hall, tears filling her eyes. As she walked, tears rolled down her cheeks. After circling the guest hall, she went to the kitchen.

On her tiptoes, choking back tears, she reached for the kitchen knife on the chopping board. The blade gleamed coldly, and she was about to slash herself.

The kitchen door was suddenly flung open, light filling the room. A silhouette rushed in against the light, grabbing her hand and shouting, “What are you doing?!”

…

When Gu Fuyou entered the central palace, she found it spacious with a high stone ceiling and signs of repairs, resembling a tomb.

She exited through an opening and found herself on a stone corridor. The corridor encircled a vast open space, very much resembling a courtyard in a residence.

Suspended in the air was an object that looked like a bell, emitting a red light, illuminating the surroundings.

She climbed over the stone railing to get a closer look. As she observed the bell, she felt a sense of familiarity. After examining it closely and circling it, she became increasingly excited.

She thought the bell resembled the Yan’er Bell, but she wasn’t entirely sure.

If magical instruments were ranked, the Yan’er Bell would be at the very top.

Legend spoke of a woman whose beloved died. In her immense grief, instead of becoming immortal and facing her tribulation, she summoned her magical instrument to withstand it.

The power of an artifact forged in the lightning tribulation of the Immortalization stage is unimaginable.

This artifact could trap a person in an illusion so real that it was hard to distinguish from reality, ensnaring them so deeply they couldn’t escape.

The woman immersed herself in the illusion created by the artifact, longing to see her lost love.

But an illusion is just that, an illusion, deceiving oneself.

When the woman realized the truth, she named this artifact the Yan’er Bell.

Gu Fuyou’s pacing suddenly halted, and she lunged at the bell. But when she tried to grasp it, she caught nothing.

A ripple formed in the air, and the bell disappeared, only to reappear a step away.

“An illusion?”

The bell rang mockingly, as if laughing at Gu Fuyou’s failed attempts.

She rushed forward, trying to grab it again but was met with emptiness.

The bell appeared beside her. Frustrated, she tried to swipe at it like swatting a mosquito, but still came up empty.

Frustrated, Gu Fuyou gritted her teeth, “I won’t give up on catching you.”

She began to use talismans, but she kept missing, chasing the object all the way to the stone railing on the opposite side, where she suddenly noticed a figure lurking in the shadows.

Approaching, she recognized the figure to be Zhong Michu, who was kneeling with her head down.

Filled with relief, Gu Fuyou called out, “Senior Sister Zhong!” Ignoring the bell.

Before she could get closer, Zhong Michu summoned her sword into her hand with a flash of light.

“Senior Sister Zhong?”

Zhong Michu raised the sword, its sharp edge pointing at her own head.

Panicked, a chill running down her spine, Gu Fuyou lunged forward. With one hand, she grabbed Zhong Michu’s hand, and with the other, she grabbed the falling blade.

Without a second thought and no time to worry about its sharpness, she instinctively grabbed the blade, wondering if her hand would be cut off.

“What are you doing, Senior Sister Zhong!”

Even though Zhong Michu did not use spiritual power and Gu Fuyou managed to reduce the force, the sharp blade of the sword still slashed her hand, drawing blood.

Zhong Michu’s grip remained firm. As an external cultivator, her physical strength was immense, much greater than Gu Fuyou’s.

The sword blade inched closer to Zhong Michu’s forehead. Unexpectedly, the Dragon horn that should’ve remained hidden on her forehead reappeared. The blade was now pressed against the newly grown part of the horn.

Gu Fuyou was soaked in a cold sweat as she yelled, “Gengchen! Gengchen, think of a something!”

The sword, Gengchen, hummed. It seemed reluctant to harm its master, yet unable to defy her will.

“Senior Sister Zhong, Senior Sister!”

There was a slight reaction from Zhong Michu. Her grip weakened, allowing Gu Fuyou to seize the opportunity to snatch Gengchen away, throwing it far from them.

Gu Fuyou gently lifted Zhong Michu’s face and said, “Senior Sister Zhong, look at me.”

The moment she lifted Zhong Michu’s face, a pang of anxiety gripped her heart.

With tears shimmering, Zhong Michu’s amber eyes seemed to be veiled in a delicate mist. There was so much in those eyes – helplessness, grievance, fear, and despair – that seeing them made Gu Fuyou’s heart ache.

It seemed that Zhong Michu’s dream was far from pleasant.

Gu Fuyou hugged her tightly and said, “Wake up, it’s all an illusion.”

Lost in her dream, Zhong Michu’s eyes were filled with confusion. She reached out to touch her Dragon horn, sobbing, “”I… I don’t want… this…”

Recalling that Zhong Michu had once expressed her dislike for the Dragon horn and had even cut it off, Gu Fuyou assumed that her illusion was related to this.

Holding her hands firmly, Gu Fuyou exclaimed, “Senior Sister Zhong, don’t believe those things, they’re all fake. Your dragon horn is beautiful, the most beautiful, I swear! I swear on my name, Gu Fuyou! Whoever says it’s not, I’ll beat them up for you!”

She kept on murmuring. She knew that if that magical instrument was truly the Yan’er Bell, neither she nor Zhong Michu, given their current cultivation level, could directly break the illusion. To escape it, they had to remain resolute in their beliefs.

This was the only way she could help her.

Perhaps her constant murmuring had an effect.

After a moment, the look in Zhong Michu’s eyes softened, gradually regaining clarity. Perhaps having just emerged from the illusion, her expression was vulnerable, her eyes glistening with tears.

So tender, so fragile.

“Gu Fuyou?” Zhong Michu’s voice trembled with every breath, her hand grasping Gu Fuyou’s arm, seemingly trying to ascertain the reality before her.

Gu Fuyou wiped away the tears from Zhong Michu’s eyes with a clean hand, just as she had done for her once before. Smiling, Gu Fuyou reassured, “Senior Sister Zhong, it’s okay now, everything’s fine.”

Gu Fuyou thought perhaps Zhong Michu hadn’t fully recovered, as she kept staring at her, lost in thought.

After a while, Zhong Michu’s breathing evened out. As she stood up, she staggered. Gu Fuyou reached out to support her.

“Senior Sister Zhong.”

Zhong Michu steadied herself, withdrew her arm from Gu Fuyou’s grasp, and turned slightly away from her, saying, “Gu Fuyou, thank you.” Her voice sounded weary.

“Senior Sister Zhong, are you alright…”

Zhong Michu shook her head, slowly walking to the stone railing, and rested her hands on it.

Looking at her silhouette, Gu Fuyou thought she seemed so fragile. Suddenly, she wished she could be like that stone railing, offering her something to lean on.

Yet, it seemed she wanted to be alone. So, Gu Fuyou tried to make her presence less noticeable, giving her some space.

However, something interrupted the moment.

That Yan’er Bell tinkled annoyingly next to her, sounding particularly grating in the silence.

Annoyed, Gu Fuyou thought, this thing needs a lesson.

She swatted at it, surprisingly hitting the elusive bell.

Her right palm had been previously cut by Gengchen, now covered in bright red blood. As she hit, she smeared the bell with her blood.

The bell clanged and fell to the ground.