The Dragon

The Pained Lovers

Gu Fuyou brought Zhong Michu back with her. Fortunately, there weren’t many people on the street, and few were lucky enough to see the Dragon King flaunting her presence. Si Miao and Scholar Zhai weren’t surprised to see them return together; everyone behaved as if Zhong Michu had never left through the back door.

Gu Fuyou arranged for Zhong Michu’s room in her courtyard, directly opposite her own room.

As the night grew cooler, with light clouds obscuring the moon, the large residence seemed even more spacious and empty, as did its rooms. Zhong Michu lay on her bed. As a cultivator, her body differed from ordinary people’s; she didn’t need to sleep every night. Meditation was more beneficial for her spirit and cultivation. Previously, she meditated more than she slept, but now she slept more, as it allowed her to dream.

Tonight, she couldn’t sleep. The window was open, and the night breeze fluttered the bamboo curtains, casting dancing shadows on the floor. She turned her head, and suddenly, a dark shadow flashed across the silvery light. Zhong Michu focused and called out, “Who’s there?”

After asking, she recognized the scent – it was Gu Fuyou. The figure slowly emerged from the shadows, standing in the moonlight. Zhong Michu was initially startled, not knowing when Gu Fuyou had entered the room without making a sound. She sat up and called out, “Ah Man?” She couldn’t understand why Gu Fuyou would come in the middle of the night.

The figure moved gracefully and sat beside her bed, smiling at her while reaching out to touch her cheek.

Zhong Michu’s face suddenly darkened, and she grabbed the hand tightly, saying coldly, “Who are you?”

The person hummed softly, seductively, and with a playful smile, said flirtatiously, “You’re hurting me.”

Zhong Michu’s face turned icy. This person wasn’t Gu Fuyou. The person was enchanting, every glance and smile filled with charm, their red eyes igniting a fire in one’s heart. Zhong Michu gripped tighter, even channeling her spiritual power, as if ready to tear her apart at any slight movement.

But the person just smiled, “The body she’s using now is hers. If you harm it, she’ll be the one to suffer.” Then she relaxed her body, moving closer, seemingly allowing Zhong Michu to do as she pleased without resistance.

Zhong Michu loosened her grip slightly but still asked, “Who are you, really?” She already had a suspicion in her mind.

The person stood up, smiling, “Who am I? I am me, I am Qing Jun.”

This confirmation caused pain in Zhong Michu’s heart. Qing Jun was the original owner of this body, the real Qingluan. If she was here, where was Gu Fuyou?

Seeing Zhong Michu’s anxious expression, Qing Jun said, “Don’t worry, she’s just asleep.”

For some reason, Zhong Michu trusted Qing Jun, perhaps because Gu Fuyou occupied this body. She was afraid Gu Fuyou would silently leave again. Qing Jun’s words reassured her, and she relaxed her shoulders, silently staring at Qing Jun. She had many questions.

Why was Qing Jun alive, and how did her body end up in Xian Luo, ceremoniously laid to rest in Ruizhu Palace? Why had she suddenly awakened? And why was Gu Fuyou’s soul in her body?

With too many questions and not knowing where to start, the quiet night was suddenly broken by a crisp bell sound. Zhong Michu got out of bed – the sound was coming from her, specifically from the storage bag she wore. She opened the bag, and a shadow dashed out, ringing continuously, circling around Qing Jun.

Qing Jun reached out her hand, and the object, the Yan’er Bell, landed on it. Qing Jun said, “Old friend, long time no see.”

The Yan’er Bell seemed to sulk, flying to rest on Zhong Michu’s head. Qing Jun said with a laugh, “What, still angry after so many years? Then I apologize.”

“That time, I was foolish, unable to distinguish illusion from reality, and blamed you for not creating real people. In anger, I sealed you away – that was my fault.” Qing Jun spoke softly, her apology sounding seductive.

Zhong Michu didn’t know the history between Qing Jun and the Yan’er Bell but could guess from the conversation that Qing Jun was its original or former owner, the one who sealed it in the Nine Palaces Eight Trigrams Formation.

The Yan’er Bell rang twice, seemingly forgiving Qing Jun, and flew back into her hand. Ultimately, it was an object, easily appeased. Qing Jun tapped it with her finger, and the Yan’er Bell buzzed briefly before quieting down, sticking close to Qing Jun. It had accepted Qing Jun as its master again.

Qing Jun looked at Zhong Michu with a smile, “You seem to have many questions for me.”

Zhong Michu replied, “Yes.”

Qing Jun said, “Let me touch you, and I’ll answer your questions.”

Zhong Michu remained silent.

Realizing that pressing for answers might harm Gu Fuyou, she pursed her lips and solemnly agreed, “Alright.”

With her consent, Qing Jun immediately sat beside her, cradling Zhong Michu’s face in her hands, playfully warning, “Don’t bite me.”

Zhong Michu, staring straight at her, inquired, “Does she know about your existence?”

As Qing Jun gently massaged her cheeks, she hummed contentedly, “She probably doesn’t know, though she’s met Qing Man. I’m not sure if Qing Man has told her about me.”

“Who is Qing Man?” Zhong Michu asked.

“A Qingluan living in the inner layers of the Misty Forest in Xian Luo,” Qing Jun replied.

Zhong Michu vaguely remembered encountering such a Qingluan in Xian Luo. She then asked, “Does your existence affect her?”

“If I wanted to, it could,” Qing Jun responded with a smile.

Zhong Michu’s pupils suddenly constricted, shimmering with a captivating golden light that most would find impossible to look directly into. Seeing this, Qing Jun teased, “Little White Dragon, are you about to devour someone?”

“A thousand years ago, you two disturbed my peace, destroyed my formation, broke my coffin, and stole my treasures. Now, one of you occupies my body, forcibly awakening me, and the other… intends to kill me to let her completely take over?” Qing Jun laughed lightly.

Zhong Michu remained silent.

“Don’t be angry, I’m just teasing you. Right now, I am nothing more than a fragment of consciousness, a lingering obsession, not hindering her,” Qing Jun reassured.

“You seem very concerned about her,” Qing Jun noted, her tone clearly indicating who she was talking about. Zhong Michu did not object.

Qing Jun gazed deeply into Zhong Michu’s eyes, her fingers tracing the corners. After a moment, she sighed, your Dragon Clan is known for its fickleness, but over countless years, there have been only two exceptions – one is you, and the other is him.”

“Who is he?” Zhong Michu couldn’t help but ask.

Qing Jun’s expression softened as she spoke, “My White Dragon.” As she spoke, her eyes were tender and full of love, which Zhong Michu could feel deeply.

“Where is he?” Zhong Michu asked.

Looking into Zhong Michu’s eyes, Qing Jun seemed lost in memories, reflecting on someone through her gaze. As the Qingluan’s expression turned increasingly sorrowful, she bit her lip and, after a long silence, said hoarsely, “I lost him and can never see him again.”

The pain of missing someone you cannot see. Qing Jun’s sorrow deeply moved Zhong Michu, who wanted to comfort her but knew that no words could ease her suffering.

After a long while, Qing Jun returned to her usual demeanor and said, “He is your ancestor, so in a way, I’m somewhat your ancestor too.”

“Of all his descendants, you resemble him the most,” Qing Jun said as she skillfully stroked Zhong Michu, familiar with dragon preferences. Zhong Michu involuntarily revealed her dragon scales around her ears. Qing Jun, pleased with herself, added, “But Di Yi was cuter than you.”

Zhong Michu remained silent, realizing that her ancestor’s name was Di Yi.

Zhong Michu hummed lightly. Qing Jun’s touch on her head relaxed her entire body, like the warm sunlight filtering through a trellis in spring, comforting and fostering dependence. As Qing Jun said, being an ancestor, an elder, her touch was warm. If her mother loved and wanted to be close to her, it might feel like this.

Her Dragon horns and tail emerged.

Zhong Michu grabbed the hands reaching for her horns, “Why did Gu Fuyou’s spirit end up in your body?”

Qing Jun replied, “I don’t know. Maybe she remembered this body as usable and thus sought it out?”

Zhong Michu frowned, “You’re a Qingluan. How could she just take over?”

Qing Jun laughed, “You don’t know the immense resentment she brought with her. Even a celestial body could be overtaken by it,”

Zhong Michu mused, “There’s no precedent for a soul from the underworld to return to life…” Wondering why such an anomaly occurred with Gu Fuyou.

Qing Jun asked, “Don’t you want her to come back to life?”

Zhong Michu didn’t respond. How could she not wish for Gu Fuyou’s return? She was worried and wanted Gu Fuyou to live a normal life.

Seeming to understand her concerns, Qing Jun smiled and said, “Don’t worry, most of the time this body is under her control. I just come out when she’s relaxed to take a look around and see what kind of White Dragon has left its mark on her. I won’t stay long.”

Resting her head on her hand with a “hmm,” Qing Jun suddenly said, “She’s about to wake up.”

Qing Jun then looked at her, her eyes flirtatious, and said with a smile, “You surely don’t want to keep fighting with her forever, right?”

“What?”

“I’ll help you. Consider it a gift from your ancestor.”

Before Zhong Michu could grasp the meaning of her words, Qing Jun swiftly grabbed her pair of Dragon horns, pinning her down on the bed.

Zhong Michu was speechless.

Qing Jun’s eyelids drooped as if she were overcome with drowsiness, then after a moment, she opened them again, appearing as if she had just woken up, her gaze vague and gradually clearing.

Frowning, Zhong Michu tentatively called out, “Ah Man?”

Gu Fuyou looked down at the person beneath her, momentarily unable to react. Was this a dream? Clearly not, but why was she in Zhong Michu’s room, holding her Dragon horns?

Gu Fuyou’s eyes widened in shock and she quickly retracted her hands as if they were burning, “Senior Sister? How come I’m here?”

Zhong Michu replied, “I don’t know. You barged in as I was about to sleep…” Gu Fuyou’s sudden withdrawal made Zhong Michu utter a soft hum. Gu Fuyou’s face turned bright red, which was fortunately obscured by the darkness of the night.

Glancing at her, Zhong Michu’s tone was a mix of reproach and complaint, “Gu Fuyou, you’ve read The Records of the Azure Emperor, haven’t you?”

Gu Fuyou was struck by a sudden realization, frozen in place. She knew well what Zhong Michu implied. The Records of the Azure Emperor stated that stroking dragon horns was a courtship gesture, not something to be done casually.

Gu Fuyou was speechless.

Seeing her reaction, Zhong Michu knew she understood and turned her head away, lying on her side, feigning a look of having been taken advantage of. Gu Fuyou, panicking and confused, felt as if her heart was scratched by cat claws, “Senior Sister Zhong, I didn’t mean to, I just… I don’t remember…”

Gu Fuyou spoke softly, “Senior Sister Zhong, I’m sorry.”

It had been a long time since Zhong Michu had heard such a sincere apology from Gu Fuyou. Despite this, Zhong Michu couldn’t feel happy; she sighed deeply in her heart.

The Yan’er Bell rang twice. Gu Fuyou turned, puzzled, “The Yan’er Bell? Why is it here?”

Zhong Michu explained, “I took it out. It has acknowledged you as its master, don’t you remember?”

Gu Fuyou shook her head, frowning in deep thought, unable to recall any memory of it. Zhong Michu asked, “Did you drink?”

“A little,” Gu Fuyou admitted.

Zhong Michu looked knowingly at her. Gu Fuyou began to doubt herself, wondering if the alcohol was to blame. But she knew her tolerance wasn’t so low to blackout from a little plum wine.

A trace of weariness showed in Zhong Michu’s eyes as moonlight cast a silvery glow on her. Gu Fuyou said, “Senior Sister Zhong, you rest. I’ll go back now.”

Gu Fuyou stood up, the Yan’er Bell clinging to her. As she walked out, her mind was still occupied with the events after getting “drunk,” her demeanor slightly panicky and evasive.

“Ah Man.”

Gu Fuyou turned back. Zhong Michu was looking at her.

“What’s wrong?” Gu Fuyou asked, a hint of guilt in her voice.

“I can’t sleep.”

“…”

“Sing me the lullaby from Xiaoyao City.”

Gu Fuyou’s expression, hidden in the shadows, indistinct and unclear.

“Unwilling?”

Gu Fuyou approached and sat by the bed, “No, I just… I’ve forgotten a bit. Let me think.”

After a long pause, Gu Fuyou began to sing softly. Zhong Michu turned towards her, lying on her side, watching her for a long time. Then, she slowly reached out, inch by inch, and gently held Gu Fuyou’s wrist resting by her side.