The Dragon

The Dragon By Dec 03, 2023 6 Comments
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Previous: Chapter 92

Chapter 93

Si Miao came over to support Zhong Michu and check her injuries.

They were not fatal, but she definitely needed rest.

Both Zhong Michu and Zuo Shaode had fallen, but another Azure Phoenix, still at the Soul Splitting stage, had arrived. Faced with the enraged spirit beast, the morale of the Zuo family cultivators dipped even lower. Despite having Zuo Shaode’s sons as leaders, they still disintegrated into chaos.

The Zuo family cultivators fled in defeat, protecting their young lord and leaving behind even Zuo Tianlang.

The group fought and retreated, losing half their numbers in the Tu Mountains.

When Gu Fuyou returned from the battlefield, she dragged a person behind her. His jade-colored robe was stained red with blood, and his face was pale, unconscious.

Gu Fuyou threw Zuo Tianlang to the ground and ordered him to be watched, then led the group towards Wantong City.

The battle in Wantong City was reaching its climax. With three armies clashing, it was total chaos, and it was hard to say who had the upper hand.

When Zuo Yuezhi’s men realized Zuo Shaode was missing, they began to withdraw; Zuo Shaode had taken most of the main force with him earlier.

While fighting with two elders from the Xu Ling Sect, Gu Fuyou suddenly realized her formation had been broken. Moments later, she saw a blaze shooting up into the sky, a massive spiritual power that only a Soul Splitting stage could possess. In this region, there were only three Soul Splitting stage cultivators: her, Zuo Shaode, and Zhong Michu.

The direction was precisely towards Tu Mountain.

Sensing something was wrong, she wanted to rush back to Tu Mountain but was blocked by the two elders.

Her anger grew, along with her murderous intent.

Thinking they could stop her? They were courting death.

All her anxiety and worries turned into rage and hatred, and she fought relentlessly until the two elders fell by her hand, leaving no one else daring to block her path.

After leaving the city and seeing Du Pan leading people to retreat, she had no intention of pursuing them. She instructed Feng Sui and Seven, one to clear the remaining Zuo family cultivators from the city and the other to pursue Du Pan.

She headed straight for Tu Mountain, witnessing the scene of Zhong Michu’s injury.

When they reached Wantong City, Seven had already cleared the city.

Feng Sui had also returned, having failed to catch anyone. Gu Fuyou was not concerned.

Though many houses in the city were destroyed, half were still habitable, including the largely intact City Lord’s mansion.

The girls from Yinxue Pavilion returned to their place. Feng Sui and Seven took charge, becoming more efficient. They arranged for slaves to help the Pavilion manage the buildings and set patrols in the city.

Gu Fuyou and her group settled in the city lord’s mansion, taking temporary residence there.

The next day, bathed in warm sunlight, Gu Fuyou sat in a grand armchair facing the city gate.

A broken sword lay across her lap, her hand lightly resting on it. Looking up, she squinted at an object being hoisted higher on the city tower and called out, “Hang it higher! Let everyone admire the grace of Young Master Zuo.”

Zuo Tianlang, his hands bound, was being hoisted up by a rope pulled by someone on the city wall.

His hair was disheveled, and his upper body was bare. He shouted angrily, “You, you wretch! Let me down!”

He had always lived a life of dignity; he had never faced such humiliation. Even when Zuo Shaode had him under house arrest, he was left with his dignity, maintaining his elegant appearance.

With his cultivation sealed, Zuo Tianlang could only kick helplessly, his fair skin contrasting sharply with his red, swollen face and neck.

“The Zuo family treated you well, you whore of the Azure Phoenix Clan…”

His curses were vulgar. Seven, standing by, frowned and threw a stone, knocking out his teeth.

Zuo Tianlang was both humiliated and furious. If he had been on the ground, he would have erupted in rage. But now, suspended in the air, his frantic struggles only made him look more ridiculous.

Gu Fuyou leaned her cheek on her hand, watching him from the city tower: “Look at him, unable to speak a word in his pathetic state. Hang his uncle up there with him.”

The crowd also hung up Zuo Shaode’s corpse next to Zuo Tianlang.

As the corpse touched Zuo Tianlang’s arm, he immediately recoiled in disgust, his skin crawling.

Zuo Shaode’s body was dried and withered, barely recognizable, drained of all blood.

A wave of fear struck Zuo Tianlang, not of death, but because he knew Zuo Shaode’s strength and yet met such an end. The thought of Wantong City falling into the hands of this Azure Phoenix was terrifying.

The Zuo family, favored by destiny, were rulers of a continent and had few equals. They believed their good fortune was meant to last and that anyone opposing them would inevitably be defeated.

He had never imagined the Zuo family could be defeated. The thought of losing everything – status, honor, and being trampled upon – made him shiver uncontrollably.

He shook his head in denial, murmuring, “Impossible.”

But his gaze kept inadvertently falling on Zuo Shaode’s corpse, and thoughts of fear and panic grew uncontrollably in his mind.

In a frenzy, he shrieked at Gu Fuyou, “Let me down! Ahh! Get him away from me! Don’t come closer!” His words were incoherent with terror.

Si Miao approached. Gu Fuyou stood up and happily called to the city wall, “Bring him down!”

Taking Si Miao’s hand, she led her to the city gate, smiling, “You’ve arrived just in time.”

Zuo Tianlang was lowered, but a meter from the ground, the rope was loosened, and he fell hard. Before he could struggle up, men on either side pinned him down.

Seven approached, handing a dagger to Gu Fuyou.

Gu Fuyou took it and turned to give it to Si Miao.

Gu Fuyou said excitedly, “He’s been too noisy all morning. You do it, cut out his tongue.”

Si Miao appeared indifferent, not even deigning to look directly at Zuo Tianlang, and simply stated, “She’s awake.”

Zhong Michu had regained consciousness.

Si Miao didn’t take the knife. Gu Fuyou’s smile faded.

Si Miao was indifferent to everything now, even to her enemies who had rendered her mute. Perhaps only after killing Lu Yandong would she feel differently.

Gu Fuyou, however, holding the dagger, walked up to Zuo Tianlang.

He shrank back, crying out, “What are you doing!” Held down, he couldn’t escape.

Gu Fuyou, unlike Si Miao who was silent and calm, was now filled with a wild, mad energy.

Gu Fuyou smiled at him, “Zuo Tianlang, Young Master Zuo, long time no see.”

He looked up at her, a shadow falling over him, plunging him into darkness. In that darkness, there were only a pair of blood-colored eyes.

Somehow, he recognized her.

His eyes widened in disbelief and absurdity, but he felt in his heart that she was Gu Fuyou, a soul returned from the underworld.

Terror overwhelmed him, his body trembling uncontrollably, as he screamed, “Gu Fuyou! Gu Fuyou, uh…”

Gu Fuyou moved swiftly, stabbing the dagger into his mouth. As she pulled it out, a bloodied mass was caught on the blade.

Zuo Tianlang screamed in pain. Without his tongue and with his throat full of blood, his cries were muffled and garbled.

Gu Fuyou handed the dagger to Seven, wiped her hands with a cloth, and tossed it in front of Zuo Tianlang. “Feed him this thing himself.”


She then walked over to the armchair to take the broken sword and headed back to the City Lord’s mansion.

Approaching Zhong Michu’s room, the door was open, and voices could be heard inside.

Gu Fuyou entered and saw Zhong Michu leaning against the headboard, Yi’er sitting beside her, carefully wiping her face. Ah Fu squatted in front of the bed.

Gu Fuyou called out, “Yi’er.”

Yi’er, still somewhat frightened of Gu Fuyou due to earlier events, replied softly, “Ah Man Mother.”

Gu Fuyou, noticing this, walked over and gently stroked her cheek, relieved that Yi’er didn’t flinch away. She smiled, “Let me talk to her.”

Yi’er nodded, “Okay,” and called Ah Fu to leave with her.

Gu Fuyou took the seat where Yi’er had been, looking at Zhong Michu.

Zhong Michu’s hair was loose, her face pale, her eyes half-open, showing a tiredness of just waking up.

Gu Fuyou’s gaze fell on the wound near her heart, and after a moment, she sighed, “That was really close this time. Half an inch deeper and you wouldn’t have survived.”

Zhong Michu remained silent. Gu Fuyou chided, “You should find some spiritual artifact to protect your heart, even a turtle shell would be better than nothing.”

Zhong Michu replied, “I haven’t found anything suitable in my recent travels.”

Gu Fuyou didn’t believe this excuse. She had gradually come to understand Zhong Michu’s way of speaking, just as she had seven hundred years ago. She saw through her again.

Zhong Michu wouldn’t fabricate things out of thin air; she based her words on facts but omitted certain details, slightly misleading others, leading them to entirely different conclusions.

Previously in Wantong City, when she said she was ‘kicked out for disobedience’, ‘injured with nowhere to go’, or even ‘having a daughter’, none of it was outright lies. In a way, they were true

It was Gu Fuyou who had misunderstood.

Zhong Michu was like that, not exactly lying, just omitting parts of the truth.

Gu Fuyou challenged, “What about the seven hundred years before we met? Your protective heart scale broke seven hundred years ago, and the Dragon Clan has countless treasures. It’s hard to believe you couldn’t find a suitable one in all that time.”

Zhong Michu looked at her, pondering, then averted her gaze, asking softly, “Did you catch Zuo Tianlang?”

Gu Fuyou laughed softly, reminiscent of the past. When the old Zhong Michu couldn’t win an argument or didn’t want to speak, she would change the subject or stay silent.

Normally, she would have let it go, but not now.

Holding the broken sword, Gu Fuyou said, “Also, why haven’t you reforged it?”

In her hands was Gengchen, the broken Gengchen.

Since meeting Zhong Michu, Gu Fuyou had never seen her wield a sword, not even summoning it.

When she rushed to the scene, noticing Zhong Michu didn’t summon Gengchen in her battle with Zuo Shaode, Gu Fuyou grew suspicious. Only after asking Xinghan did she learn that Zhong Michu had kept the broken sword in her storage bag for seven hundred years.

“Did Yi’er give this to you?” asked Zhong Michu, realizing only Yi’er would dare rummage through her storage bag.

Gu Fuyou, with a touch of resignation in her voice, called out, “Zhong Michu.”

Gu Fuyou remarked, “If you ignore it for seven hundred years, it will feel sad too.”

Zhong Michu, gazing into the distance, responded softly, “Is that so?”

Gu Fuyou continued, “If you had it with you, you wouldn’t have struggled so much in your fight with Zuo Shaode.”

Zhong Michu remained silent. A memory sparked in Gu Fuyou, and with a smile, she said, “Do you remember when I sneaked up to find you on Gushen Peak? You were practicing swordplay in the courtyard, surrounded by golden ginkgo leaves and a light mist. I thought then, if there were immortals in this world, they must look like you.”

“Zhong Michu, your sword dance was truly beautiful.”

Zhong Michu replied sadly, “What’s the use of being beautiful.”

Gu Fuyou’s heart tightened, realizing, “Zhong Michu, are you blaming yourself for what happened back then? The Sect Leader and Yunran Xuanzun, they…”

The broken spiritual sword had failed to protect anyone.

Gu Fuyou put down Gengchen, opened her arms, and said, “Come here, let me hug you.”

She moved towards Zhong Michu, who slightly leaned into her embrace. Gu Fuyou held her tightly, “This isn’t your fault, it’s all on the Zuo family. You’ve done well enough. There won’t be anyone better than you, Zhong Michu. The Sect Leader must have been so proud to have you as a disciple.”

“And you?”

“Being from the same sect, I share in your glory.”

Gu Fuyou, like a sheathed sword hiding its edge, looked at her with gentle eyes, “Let me reforge Gengchen for you.”

After a moment of silence, Zhong Michu nodded, “Okay.”

Gu Fuyou was delighted. Her happiness was simple these days: one part from the Zuo family’s pain, another from Zhong Michu.

“I’ll also craft a new protective scale for your heart, the hardest in the world, stronger than any Dragon Clan’s scale.”

Zhong Michu said, “Nothing can be harder than the Dragon Clan’s scales,” but she liked hearing Gu Fuyou talk like this, reminding her of the Gu Fuyou from the past. The girl who stood on the earth, reaching for the stars, her eyes shining with youthful ambition.

Gu Fuyou smiled, “I have a way. I’ll definitely make it for you.”

Zhong Michu’s lips curved slightly as she softly replied, “Alright.”

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Previous: Chapter 92


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7 months ago

Thanks for the chapter…

7 months ago

Thank you for translating. I love them so much. I like that Gu fuyou is ruthless but can’t help but soften around her wife

6 months ago

;;;; it’s so bloody bittersweet 😭

4 months ago

Put a ring (heart-scale) on your wifey

2 months ago

Know what, I am satisfied with the revenge on bailu city. But I feel like Zhaode’s and Tianlang’s retribution isn’t enough for me. Also, I think using dharma manifestation to kill the Zuo family would be fitting. An eye for an eye!! And Sect leader should be fed with Yuan Shan’s venom while his family is hanging by the wall :))

26 days ago

Fuyoumichu being domestic 😭😭😭 just kiss mf 😭
Gosh I love that torturing scene, I wish xi mao can feel better from it but…she is really broken too…