The Dragon

After the initial sting of pain, Zhong Michu gently bit again, her soft hair lightly brushing past Gu Fuyou’s ear in a way that was mildly stimulating. As they embraced, Zhong Michu’s body temperature began to decrease thankfully.

They held each other, enveloped in a deep, shared silence.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Gu Fuyou broke the stillness, “We need to find some replacement clothes.”

Zhong Michu’s belt, having been torn by Gu Fuyou, left her clothes hanging loosely – they certainly couldn’t venture out in such a state. Moreover, Zhong Michu was still clad in the Dragon King’s ceremonial robes, which were quite eye-catching. While the minor sects and clans in their immediate vicinity might not recognize the significance of these robes, there was no doubt that others outside would.

“Mmm.”

As they stepped out of the cave, Zhong Michu was holding her robes closed, the neckline dipping slightly more than usual. Gu Fuyou’s eyes wandered, catching a glimpse of Zhong Michu’s neck – smooth and white, reminiscent of polished jade.

Her gaze shifted, moving up to Zhong Michu’s lips. Zhong Michu’s lips were thin and lightly colored, but after their recent kiss, they were now red and plump, like ripe cherries that seemed ready to burst with sweet juice.

She remembered the softness of that kiss, never realizing lips could be so soft. Without realizing it, she found herself unconsciously licking her upper lip.

At that very moment, as the tip of her tongue grazed her lip, Zhong Michu turned to look at her. There stood Gu Fuyou, with her red eyes and tongue slightly out, looking dazed and endearing. The sight was so charming that it stirred a wave of affection. Lost in the moment, it seemed Gu Fuyou had forgotten what she was about to say.

“…” Gu Fuyou shifted her gaze from Zhong Michu’s lips to her eyes. As their eyes met, she silently retracted her tongue, looking away.

The people of the sect were still under the illusion of the Yan’er Bell, oblivious to Gu Fuyou and Zhong Michu standing in front of them, each absorbed in their own activities.

With a slightly reddened face, eager to escape the awkwardness, Gu Fuyou hurriedly said to Zhong Michu, “Wait here, I’ll find us some clothes.” Without waiting for a response, she rushed off.

Zhong Michu paused, waiting, when suddenly the sounds of a commotion reached her ears. She found herself near the sect’s training ground, where a group of disciples appeared to be engaged in some playful activities.

But it wasn’t just playful.

A thin young boy was encircled by several disciples, teasing him with a scroll. Each time he tried to grab it, they tossed it to another disciple.

The boy’s spiritual power was almost imperceptible, not yet reaching the Qi Training stage, making him clearly outmatched by the other disciples. His cheeks were a pale shade, now flushed, likely from a mix of running and frustration.

Zhong Michu was lost in thought, memories flooding back.

After searching, Gu Fuyou found only men’s clothing in the sect. She returned with two sets of clothes and saw Zhong Michu gazing at the training ground, asking, “What are you looking at?”

Gu Fuyou joined her side, also observing the training ground.

The boy lunged to snatch the book, yelling, “Give it back!” In a sudden leap, the disciple holding the book carelessly threw it away, and it landed right next to Gu Fuyou’s feet.

As the boy ran to pick it up, another disciple tripped him, making him fall.

Gu Fuyou bent down to pick up the book and examined it, raising an eyebrow.

The book described categorizing various elements of the cultivation world – spirit beasts, magical artifacts, medicinal pills, spiritual treasures, plants, and other elements that defy natural laws – into different grades and categories.

This idea wasn’t groundbreaking or the first of its kind. Ancestors had similar thoughts, and today’s division of cultivation levels and names were set by predecessors. The types and grades of medicinal pills and artifacts also had rough classifications, but not as detailed as the levels of cultivators.

There had been calls to compile a detailed categorization of the cultivation world’s elements into books, but these initiatives always faded away. Though it only required writing, not monumental power, it was a significant undertaking, requiring broad knowledge, extensive experience, and dedication to categorize and grade these elements.

In a world chasing power, where everyone focused on ascending to immortality and standing out, such thankless tasks found no takers.

From ancient times to the present, only the “Records of the Azure Emperor” by the Qing Emperor stood out in this field.

Gu Fuyou flipped through a couple of pages. The young boy had already transcribed quite a bit, starting with a classification of medicinal pills. He began by dividing them into nine ranks, each categorized into three grades – high, middle, and low – based on their effects and quality. His classification of various pills only went up to the second rank, leaving the categories from the third to the ninth rank blank, revealing the limited exposure of this small sect.

The sections on spirit beasts and magical artifacts were also limited to lower ranks. Even so, the book was filled with such content, reflecting the vast and complex array of spiritual items in the cultivation world.

Gu Fuyou closed the book and gently touched its pages.

The boy was pinned to the ground, helpless under the foot of a mocking disciple.

A disciple mocked, “You practice day and night, yet you can’t even break through the basic Qi-Training stage. Using pills on you is a waste. With your capabilities, dreaming of reaching the Golden Core stage or ascending to immortality is a fool’s errand!” The disciples burst into laughter. The boy clenched his fists, his eyes red with tears, revealing his timid nature.

Tilting her head, Gu Fuyou mused, “I never quite understood this before. Hard work and dedication are supposed to be noble virtues, deserving respect. So why are they often met with ridicule and contempt?”

Zhong Michu responded, “They’re not mocking his dedication. They simply look down on his lack of innate talent.”

Gu Fuyou laughed and shook her head, “That’s not quite it. They look down on those with lesser talents, but they also resent those who work harder than they do. Most of all, they despise those who, despite having lesser natural talents, strive harder than them.”

Belittling others to elevate themselves, fearing that others might work too hard and surpass them, mixes anxiety, jealousy, disdain, and contempt, leading to bullying in both words and actions. Such twisted mentality is all too common in the world of cultivation.

“The heavenly path should reward the diligent. Zhong Michu, do you think…” Gu Fuyou looked at her, “Don’t you think the world shouldn’t be like this?”

Zhong Michu couldn’t help but gently stroke her cheek, softly affirming, “It shouldn’t.”

Content with the answer, Gu Fuyou handed her the clothes, saying, “Change into these, and let’s go.”

Holding the clothes, Zhong Michu looked at the bullied young man in the distance and asked, “Aren’t you going to help him?” Her voice had the melancholy of an evening breeze.

Gu Fuyou replied nonchalantly, “I could help him now, but I can’t be there for him forever.”

Zhong Michu countered, “If you can help him even for a moment, it’s better than not helping at all. Plus, if you wanted to, you could help him for a lifetime.”

Gu Fuyou laughed, “What’s the plan? Take him back to the Thirty-Three Skies?”

“Your Majesty, there are countless pitiable people in the world. Should I bring every one of them I feel sorry for?”

Zhong Michu smiled lightly, “Why not?”

After observing her for a moment, Gu Fuyou conceded, “Alright, alright, but I don’t know if he would want to come with us.”

After Gu Fuyou and Zhong Michu changed their clothes, Gu Fuyou pulled the boy out of the illusion, saying they had a destiny with him, and asked if he would like to be their servant.

The young boy, having suffered so much humiliation and witnessing the respect the sect leader showed the two women, recognized their status and importance. Sensing the situation, he immediately agreed to serve them.

Gu Fuyou and Zhong Michu, with the young boy in tow, inquired about his background. They learned his name was Le Zihuan. He was an orphan, bullied by his peers, not just for his lack of talent but also because his mother had been a slave.

In the Five Continents and Four Seas, slaves were of low status, and the children of slaves were also considered slaves. If it hadn’t been for Le Zihuan’s father, who once held an elder position in the sect, he would have probably been sent to Bailu City and met a worse fate.

Initially, Zhong Michu had planned to head straight back to the Eastern Sea, but considering the proximity of the Northern Sea, she opted to make a detour there first. After all, traveling through one’s own territory always promised more safety than venturing through unfamiliar regions.

With this plan in mind, Zhong Michu, bearing the weight of her two companions on her sword, set a direct course for the Northern Sea. Their journey was swift, and in just three days, they would reach their intended destination.

However, Le Zihuan, still being in the preliminary stages of cultivation, needed regular meals. In Beizhou, it was common to travel hundreds of miles without encountering a single soul, especially after passing through a large city. Finally, upon spotting a small town, Zhong Michu descended from her sword to gather some food.

Gu Fuyou, trailing at the back of the group, found herself drawn to a place wafting with the scent of incense and paused to explore it.

The entrance bore a plaque: Shrine of the Immortal Maiden.

Though the town couldn’t be described as wealthy, the shrine was elegantly constructed. Its entrance featured a copper incense burner brimming with ash and a mix of incense sticks, some still smoldering.

Stepping inside the shrine, visitors were met with the striking sight of a tall golden statue depicting an immortal maiden. Contrary to the ethereal attire usually associated with such figures in stories, this statue donned a solemn and majestic robe. The golden figure stood with a distant gaze, one hand elegantly raised as if holding something, while in the other, she cradled a golden statue of a little girl. The small statue, while not exceedingly lifelike, was clearly crafted with a nose and eyes.

Gu Fuyou looked up at the inscription beside it –”The Limitless Heaven and Earth, Dragon King of the Four Seas, Immortal Yan Qing.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, leaping onto the altar and drawing closer to inspect the golden statue. The more she looked, the more amused she became.

It was undoubtedly a statue of Zhong Michu.

Suddenly, an old man with white hair and beard charged out, shouting in anger, “Where did this madwoman come from? Get off the Immortal Maiden’s altar!”

Gu Fuyou’s crimson eyes curved into a sly smile. “And what if I don’t?”

The old man responded, “Disrespecting the Immortal Maiden will get you struck by lightning from the heavens.”

Gu Fuyou burst out laughing. With a light tap of her toe, she gracefully landed on the outstretched hand of the golden statue. Softly reclining, she wrapped her arms around the statue’s neck, snuggling against it as if the statue was holding her.

“I’m not coming down.”

Then, naughtily, she kissed the cheek of the statue. If nothing else, when the statue had a serious face, it somewhat resembled Zhong Michu’s expression.

The old man looked as if he might explode with anger, his eyes bulging as he spluttered, “You! You! You!”

“You madwoman. How dare you defile the sacred statue of the Immortal Maiden! Just you wait, the Divine Dragons of the Four Seas will come for you, subjecting you to the torment of being gnawed by fish and shrimp day and night!”

Gu Fuyou thought to herself that she wouldn’t really mind.

She was so amused that she leaned against the statue, laughing heartily. Patting the golden statue of the little girl on the head, she whispered, “I’ll tell you a secret, this is my daughter.”

She then caressed the face of the Immortal Maiden statue, saying, “And this is my beloved. Who dares to take me away? Old man, you better pay your respects to me, and I might ensure you have good fortune!”

The old man stomped his foot, yelling, “Madwoman! Madwoman!”

He looked around, and after a brief search, picked up a broomstick. Wielding it like one would chase away flies, he tried to shoo her away.

Gu Fuyou swiftly dodged, quickly moving beside the old man.

The old man, momentarily dazed by the sudden movement, could now clearly see Gu Fuyou’s face. She was stunningly beautiful, captivating even to someone of his age, and he was momentarily stunned.

Quickly reaching out, Gu Fuyou took a piece of fruit from the altar. The old man, snapping back to reality, chased her fervently with his broom, exclaiming, “That’s an offering for the Immortal! How dare you touch it! Put it back!”

Laughing as she ran out, Gu Fuyou teasingly responded, much like a mischievous child, “I won’t!”

Just as she stepped out of the shrine, she bumped into someone and laughed, “What aren’t you going to put back? I turned around and you were gone.”

Gu Fuyou took a bite from the fruit and replied, “Zhong Michu, I found an amazing place.”

Zhong Michu looked up and spotted the shrine, responding with a resigned smile. Building a shrine and offering incense are of no use to cultivators, but the common people don’t care about these details.

Holding onto the fruit, Gu Fuyou placed her hands on Zhong Michu’s shoulders, pulling her closer with a grin. “Zhong Michu, when did you change your title to ‘Immortal Yan Qing’?”

Zhong Michu replied, “They derived it from the phrase ‘the peacefulness of the seas and rivers.'”

“Your Majesty, your noble name has even reached here. I wonder if there are Immortal Shrines in other places too?” Gu Fuyou wondered aloud, thinking that if there was a shrine here in the Northern Sea, then the Penglai Palace in the Eastern Sea, where Zhong Michu frequented, there might be a shrine every few steps.

Zhong Michu just responded with a smile, confirming Gu Fuyou’s suspicion in silence.

“Zhong Michu, you’re truly beloved by the people,” commented Gu Fuyou.

Zhong Michu remained silent.

A sudden pang of envy hit Gu Fuyou. This was perhaps what she had always desired. She thought she no longer cared about such recognition, yet at this moment, deep down, she felt a tinge of jealousy, leading to her melancholy.

“I want it too,” Gu Fuyou voiced out. “Zhong Michu, will you give this shrine to me?”

Gu Fuyou swayed her, pleading, “Give it to me, give it to me.”

Zhong Michu held her tightly, her voice tinged with emotion, “I’ll give it all to you.”

“I don’t need that much, one is enough.”