The Dragon

Gu Fuyou reappeared after half a day, her hand clutching a red book adorned with gold lettering.

In the room, Zhong Michu was delicately playing a zither, her fingers weaving a clear and melodious tune. The soft, white silk of her sleeves fluttered gently, each movement resonating with Gu Fuyou’s heart.

As Zhong Michu’s hands danced over the zither strings, she felt a sudden pull. Gu Fuyou had gently grasped her sleeve.

Zhong Michu glanced at her and smiled, “What are you doing?”

Gu Fuyou, squatting down, prompted Zhong Michu to think she intended to sit beside her, leading her to scoot over. However, Gu Fuyou maintained her hold on the sleeve, softly instructing, “Don’t move.”

Gu Fuyou gently nudged the desk away, creating just enough space to squeeze into the small gap between the table and Zhong Michu. The space was tight, and their bodies were closely nestled under layers of soft fabric, barely leaving room to breathe.

Ever since Zhong Michu had woken up, Gu Fuyou had become inseparable from her, like a vine wrapping itself around a sturdy Dragon.

The vivid memory of summoning Zhong Michu from the seal, witnessing the sky awash with blood rain, and seeing her painstakingly stitched wounds, haunted Gu Fuyou. She clung to these moments, fearing they were the fragile thread connecting her to Zhong Michu, a thread that might snap at the slightest distraction.

The person beside her sometimes felt surreal. Gu Fuyou’s lingering worries had made it difficult for her to fully embrace the present, haunted by the fear that even a gentle touch might shatter her newfound reality. She harbored a fear that, after surviving so many dangers, their blissful reality might dissolve into a mere dream, leaving her to awaken to a world filled with regret and loss.

She needed this closeness, this physical confirmation of Zhong Michu’s presence, to anchor her to reality.

This need stemmed from a deep-seated fear of loss and the possessiveness that had grown within her, especially after dreaming of the tragic fate of Qing Jun and Di Yi.

Zhong Michu, now accustomed to Gu Fuyou’s clinginess, indulged her, inquiring gently, “Have you given the instructions for Yuan Shan?”

Settling comfortably beside her, Gu Fuyou responded, “I’ve sent them out. We’re in for quite a spectacle.”

Zhong Michu’s eyes wandered to a heap of red papers nearby. “What are these?” she asked.

Gu Fuyou casually picked up one of the papers. “These are from Feng Sui and Xiao Zhongting. They gave them to me when we met,” she explained.

Leaning back with a mischievous smile, Gu Fuyou added, “They’re birth details and betrothal letters.”

Zhong Michu raised an eyebrow, “A betrothal letter? For you?”

Gu Fuyou smirked, “Who else would it be for?”

Although she had told Xiao Zhongting to spread the word that she was already betrothed, some people were still persistent. It was unclear whether they thought it was her excuse or they believed Gu Fuyou was fickle and flirtatious.

Opening one of the papers, Gu Fuyou teased Zhong Michu, “Your Majesty, it appears I’m now a highly desired individual, a favorite among young talents.”

In the past, Gu Fuyou’s notorious reputation for being stubborn and mediocre talent had dashed many suitors’ hopes.

Now, finding amusement in the attention she received, her attitude towards it had shifted. While her temperament had changed, she still saw these overtures as light-hearted amusement.

Gu Fuyou picked up a few more papers, leaning back against Zhong Michu, saying, “The Chen family, Fu family… Ah, the Xiao family. Seems like a side branch related to Xiao Zhongting. No wonder he hesitated to speak. He must be embarrassed, probably doesn’t know where to hide his face…” She glanced at another paper and tossed it aside, the red betrothal letters scattering on the floor like discarded scraps.

Then, picking up a different paper, she began reading aloud a love letter, “The moment I saw you, my passion for the zither waned, unable to pen even eight lines of poetry, my heart ensnared in love for so long, yearning and pining. I acknowledge my lack of talent and virtue, unworthy of the sect leader’s favor, but…”

Zhong Michu’s voice was flat, cutting her off firmly, “If you know you’re unworthy, why say so much?”

Gu Fuyou placed the love letter on her nose, biting her lower lip to hold back a smile. After a while, she cleared her throat, “Am I not even allowed to consider it?”

She could relate to the feelings expressed in the letter; she had felt similar when she summoned Zhong Michu, despite feeling unworthy.

For a long time, Zhong Michu remained silent. When Gu Fuyou sought her reaction, she found Zhong Michu had already stood up and walked away. Without her support, Gu Fuyou lay back down.

Supporting herself with her elbow, Gu Fuyou looked out and saw Zhong Michu’s figure against the light, calling out, “Zhong Michu!”

Sitting up, Gu Fuyou flashed a small smile, “When will your betrothal letter arrive?”

Zhong Michu paused in her steps and turned around, her expression filled with astonishment as she looked at Gu Fuyou.

Gu Fuyou stood up and approached her, saying earnestly, “Zhong Michu.”

“Marry me.”

With a smile, she added, “Will you marry me?”

Zhong Michu stood across from her, lips slightly parted, remained silent, still wearing a look of shock, as unmoving as the stone lion outside the mansion gate.

Zhong Michu’s silence lasted longer than Gu Fuyou had anticipated.

Gu Fuyou guessed that Zhong Michu would be shocked and at a loss for words for a while, and she had even prepared several comforting phrases for this awkward waiting period.

She walked towards Zhong Michu and joked, “The Dragon Clan is wealthy and powerful. If I were still the ruler of Nanzhou, I would propose to you and offer Nanzhou as a dowry. I think even the old clan leader might accept that. But now, all I have is the small Xiaoyao City to offer…”

Standing close, Gu Fuyou continued, “I promise to be good to you in the future. I’ll listen to everything you say. I want you by my side, always watching over me. You bit me, so you have to take responsibility…”

As she spoke, tears began to pool in Zhong Michu’s eyes, glistening in the light. With a blink, two tears silently traced her cheeks. Covering her eyes with her hand, she was visibly overwhelmed by a flood of memories and emotions.

When we’re young, we tend to believe even the lightest, most carefree promises made in passing. It’s only after experiencing the highs and lows of life that we realize how naive we were back then.

Seeing Zhong Michu’s silent tears, Gu Fuyou’s heart clenched, and her face turned pale. She had only been testing the waters with her words, and now she realized Zhong Michu had taken those words to heart all this time, something she had forgotten.

With a touch of empathy, Gu Fuyou tenderly caressed Zhong Michu’s cheek, reassuring, “I won’t forget again, I promise.”

As Zhong Michu looked up, her eyes swimming with unshed tears, Gu Fuyou experienced a flash of realization. She remembered their time in the spiritual cave, finally understanding the depth of Zhong Michu’s feelings for her.

Zhong Michu appeared even more vulnerable and pitiable. Perhaps her usual strength and resilience made her current fragile state even more heart-wrenching.

Gu Fuyou felt a deep internal conflict. One part of her was filled with gentle compassion, wanting to soothe Zhong Michu with the softest words and the gentlest touch, to alleviate her pain and warm her heart. Yet, another part of Gu Fuyou was captivated by her tears and fragility, secretly longing to see her more undone and delicate.

Gu Fuyou leaned closer, gently kissing away the tears near Zhong Michu’s mouth, and tenderly tracing a path upwards to reach her eyes.

Finally breaking the silence, Zhong Michu’s voice was husky with emotion as she whispered, “Ah Man.”

Their eyes met, each gaze heavy with unspoken feelings.

Gu Fuyou held Zhong Michu closely, tenderly cradling her head. As Fuyou’s thumb accidentally brushed against Zhong Michu’s ear, a shiver ran through her at the light touch. Their embrace grew tighter, a cocoon of warmth enveloping them. Looking into each other’s eyes, the depth of their passion and devotion was palpable.

They found themselves gently descending to the ground, Gu Fuyou’s right hand entwined with Zhong Michu’s, held above their heads. Propping herself up on one elbow, Gu Fuyou gazed down into Zhong Michu’s golden eyes, lost in their depth. She felt as if she were submerged in a clear, summer mountain stream, her heart stirring like the rippling waters.

Gu Fuyou softly said, “Your Majesty… has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look when you cry? It’s both heartbreaking and mesmerizing.”

“Has anyone ever been this close to you?”

After the incident at the spiritual cave, she pondered. A figure like Zhong Michu, with her high stature, immense power, and striking beauty, must have had many seeking her favor, trying to charm their way into the position of the Dragon Queen. Gu Fuyou herself, if in their place, admitted it would be hard not to feel drawn to her.

Through the years, it seemed plausible that Zhong Michu might have found favor with one or two, a natural occurrence for someone of her status.

“Never.”

It was expected, yet somehow surprising.

Just one word, but they stirred an irresistible longing.

The room was filled with a warm, intoxicating fragrance, thickening into a mist that seemed to enchant all senses.

In a hazy state, Zhong Michu seemed to catch a whiff of that familiar scent, sweet and appetizing. Everything felt dreamlike, her body light as if floating. Only her emotions felt heavy, all the passion, pain, fear, joy, love, regret, melding together into an overwhelming desire.

Inside the room, it was as if the seasons were changing. There was the gentle, nascent feel of spring, with its fragrant buds poised to bloom, alongside the fiery intensity of a summer’s day, marked by the fervent heat and beads of sweat. This melded into the lush abundance of autumn’s ripe, juicy fruits, and finally, the serene beauty of winter’s silver snow blanketing the earth, dotted with the vibrant red of falling plum blossoms.

As dawn approached, the sky transformed into a soft pale blue, with dew starting to form. Dewdrops glistened at the tips of the gently bowing magnolia flowers, each one a shimmering jewel ready to drop.

The first rays of sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on the person lying there, who let out a soft moan without opening her eyes.

Gu Fuyou, half-draped over Zhong Michu, was like a comforting blanket. With her movement, Zhong Michu awoke, her gaze on Gu Fuyou warm and tender as the morning light, filled with love and affection.

Sitting up, Gu Fuyou adjusted her loosely tied undergarment, brushing her hair back to reveal a bite mark on her shoulder.

Even though the Dragon Clan is known for their fondness of biting, it’s painless and actually intensifies their passion. They leave only one mark, but that single mark was enough.

Gu Fuyou felt a twinge of envy. She wanted to leave her mark on Zhong Michu too.

How she wished she had the Dragon’s powerful set of teeth.

In a playful, impulsive movement, Gu Fuyou pounced on Zhong Michu, eliciting laughter. “What are you doing?” Zhong Michu asked, amusement in her voice.

Gently, Gu Fuyou bit down on Zhong Michu’s throat, a sensitive spot whether in human or beast form. Zhong Michu stayed still, indulging Gu Fuyou’s whims.

Gu Fuyou bit gently, regretfully aware that even if she bit harder, she wouldn’t leave a mark on Zhong Michu’s delicate skin. Any harder and the Dragon scales would emerge. Still, the fact that she could so easily bite Zhong Michu’s throat was a great satisfaction to her, a declaration of ownership, a gesture of possession. Who else in the world could dare to hold the Dragon King’s throat in their mouth like this?

Zhong Michu’s chuckle under Gu Fuyou’s bite was muffled yet vibrant, causing a ticklish sensation.

Gu Fuyou felt the muffled vibrations beneath her teeth. She loosened her grip and looked up slightly, catching sight of a scar from the base of the neck to the shoulder bone, still not faded.

The scar was stitched together with green vine silk threads, forming a lengthy line intersected by several shorter ones, creating a pattern that resembled a flesh worm. While she didn’t find it unsightly and accepted every aspect of Zhong Michu’s body, this specific scar was something she deeply detested.

As Gu Fuyou caressed the scar tenderly, Zhong Michu’s breathing became uneven, her eyes closing in response.

Zhong Michu closed her eyes. Gu Fuyou didn’t stop; as she opened her eyes, they darkened. Zhong Michu placed her hand on Gu Fuyou’s waist and started to gently stroke.

Overcome with ticklish laughter, Gu Fuyou collapsed softly onto Zhong Michu, their eyes meeting in a moment of connection. Feeling suddenly nervous, Gu Fuyou quickly rolled away, creating a small distance, and promised, “I’ll behave, I promise.”

Zhong Michu remained silent, her expression unreadable.

Breaking the silence, Gu Fuyou mentioned, “Feng Sui and the others should be arriving soon.”

Zhong Michu inquired, “For what purpose?”

“To inform them about the end of the slave contract, as we decided yesterday.”

Again, Zhong Michu was silent, lost in thought.