Chapter 167: What are you doing?

“So what exactly happened?” Qin Qingyue was unwilling to give up, and continued to press for answers.

The pair of petite black dragon horns atop her head tipped forward in curiosity, while the dragon tail covered in jet-black scales behind her swayed gently, almost unconsciously.

Wu Zhaohua had intended to make a mocking remark, but swallowed the words at the last second.

She glanced at Qin Qingyue’s utterly natural expression as she asked, then looked at Su Yingman standing behind her, whose presence was almost negligible, and suddenly realized something.

For this wicked dragoness who had even taken it upon herself to arrange concubines for her own husband, could such words truly count as mockery?

Probably not.

She took a deep breath, suppressing the embarrassment and frustration in her heart, and spoke as blandly as possible, as if discussing the weather:

“He’s inside, being intimate with another woman.” As soon as these words fell, the expression on Qin Qingyue’s face froze instantly.

She was stunned for a moment, as if processing the information.

Immediately after, a surge of jealousy flooded up, making her expression quite awkward.

What angered her wasn’t that Jiang Huai was inside the Secret Realm being close with another woman.

After all, she’d even carried out a plan to “borrow seed” from the White Dragon Clan herself; her acceptance of such things was far beyond that of ordinary people.

What really bothered her was that Wu Zhaohua knew about it—knew about it so clearly!

She, the principal wife, was still left in the dark and could only vaguely sense what was happening, while this “former flame” seemed to know everything as if she had witnessed it firsthand, every detail clear.

What was that supposed to mean? Why did Wu Zhaohua get to know everything in such detail?!

Thinking of this, the sourness in Qin Qingyue’s heart began to bubble up, and her gaze towards Wu Zhaohua became somewhat unfriendly, secretly pondering whether she should find a way to erase that annoying Spirit Sword Pattern from Jiang Huai when they got home.

“I see. Well, that’s just perfect then.….”

Buzz!

The seemingly unshakable Barrier of the Secret Realm suddenly emitted a subtle fluctuation of energy.

Immediately afterward, a faint crack, like a spiderweb, flashed across the surface of the Barrier.

“There’s movement!” Qin Qingyue’s expression changed abruptly, and her attention was instantly drawn to the sudden change, tossing aside her earlier jealousy.

Inside the Secret Realm, all grievances had dispersed, and daylight returned.

Relying on the tremendous power gained when Jiang Huai broke through to the Golden Core Stage at the crucial moment with Chi Lian through the union of yin and yang, along with Chihuang’s wholehearted cooperation, the three finally succeeded in purifying the Divine Demon Remnant Soul that had plagued the Ancestor of the Red Dragon for millennia, turning all the resentment it had accumulated into pure Dragon Essence in return.

At this moment, that enormous, terrifying skeleton had vanished.

In its place was a small dragon, about the length of an arm, its body covered in brand new crimson scales.

But the little dragon looked a bit frail.

The sheen of its scales was somewhat dull, and it listlessly coiled around Jiang Zhun’s neck, dragon head drooping over his shoulder, even its tail only occasionally giving a slight twitch.

“Ancestor, how do you feel now? Are you still feeling unwell?” Jiang Huai felt a faint coolness at his neck, and reached up to gently stroke the newly grown, silky smooth scales, his tone full of concern.

The little red dragon lazily lifted her eyelids, her response thick with nasal tone, utterly different from the former ancient and dignified will—

it was the unique, soft and charming voice belonging only to the Red Dragon Clan:

“Mm… Too much time has passed, my soul and Dragon Essence are too depleted. Being able to keep my life is already a blessing.” “I never thought I’d live to see the light of day again.” Her voice was weak, carrying a dazed sense of relief at surviving a disaster.

Jiang Huai couldn’t help but smile at her words, gently rubbing her petite dragon horns with his fingertips:

“You lying here so limply, you don’t look anything like the awe-inspiring Ancestor of the ancient days.”

“Ancestor this, ancestor that….” The little red dragon seemed somewhat embarrassed, bumping her dragon head gently against his cheek, her voice still enchanting.

“I only just learned today that I’ve become the ‘Ancestor’ in the mouths of later generations… It sounds so old and decrepit.”

“Back in those days, I wasn’t old at all!”

She clearly didn’t like the title of “Ancestor,” and her tone had a hint of playful reproach.

“By the way,” she suddenly recalled something, lifting her slender dragon neck a little higher:

“Strange… By your account, it’s been ten thousand years since my time, hasn’t it?”

“Why… why do you have White Dew’s aura on you?”

Jiang Huai didn’t hide it, replying frankly:

“Senior, your senses are sharp. This aura was indeed left by White Dew, the White Dragon Clan leader.” “I just met her not long ago.”

“Hmm?! White Dew?!” The little red dragon seemed to come alive, her previously limp body stiffening all at once, dragon head snapping up.

“She’s still alive?!”

She clearly hadn’t expected that after so many millennia, she could still hear news of an old friend.

The thrill of hearing a friend survived the tides of time made her momentarily forget her weakness, her long tail began wagging uncontrollably, thumping against Jiang Huai’s clothes.

“That’s wonderful! Truly wonderful!” she murmured in delight, winding halfway around Jiang Huai’s neck, her dragon head moving close to his ear, voice full of urgent expectation.

“Hurry! Take me to see her!”

Though, in her memories, White Dew had always been cold, aloof, not fond of words, like a block of ice that never melted—but at this moment, even these flaws seemed incredibly endearing.

Jiang Huai could clearly feel her genuine joy and eagerness, like a wanderer finally hearing news from home after a long journey.

He carefully supported her small, trembling body, nodding in agreement:

“Alright. When we leave here, I’ll take you to meet Clan Leader White Dew.”

In the side room, the air was still thick with lingering heat and the special scent of osmanthus and amaranth.

Chi Lian lay on her side atop a makeshift soft cushion, eyes dazed, not yet fully recovered from the overwhelming storm that had upended her understanding.

Those once timid eyes were now watery, like peach blossoms soaked in spring rain, the corners tinged with lingering red.

Her voluptuous, mature body lay completely relaxed, her skin glowing with the pinkish luster unique after ecstasy, sweat-dampened black hair clinging to her smooth brow and flushed cheeks, adding to her languid allure.

It was like a living painting of a beauty at rest.

Especially those long, slender jade legs, which were still twitching faintly, and the pale skin faintly bore traces

still silently speaking of the recent intensity and loss of control.

Hearing footsteps, Chi Lian struggled to prop herself up, and when she saw Chihuang enter, a flush spread across her cheeks and she shyly lowered her head, her voice as soft as a mosquito:

“My lady.…”

Chihuang gazed at her thoroughly “watered” and seductive appearance, eyes sweeping over the uncovered marks of pleasure on her body and the conspicuous traces left on the mat.

The unspeakable frustration and bitterness in her heart only grew stronger.

She pressed her lips together, forcing down the turmoil in her heart, and tried to keep her voice calm:

“Put your clothes back on.”

The two girls, both mature in form, stood facing each other in silence.

Chihuang’s heart was a jumble of emotions.

The crisis seemed to be over, the trouble of the marriage alliance resolved.

By rights, she should feel relieved, even happy.

But why couldn’t she muster any joy at all?

A clear sense of defeat lingered in her chest.

She, the noble Saintess of the Red Dragon Clan, had, in some way, lost to her usually meek and quiet attendant.

This realization was torture for her proud heart.

A powerful urge rose within her—to prove herself.

To prove that she was the real Saintess, and that Jiang Huai, who judged only by surface appearances, was utterly blind!

He would regret his choices today!

“Alright, but…” Chi Lian obediently answered, handing back the luxurious robe that symbolized the Saintess’ status to Chihuang.

However, the inner hem of the robe was conspicuously stained with a few half-dried spots, like red plum blossoms in the snow, painfully glaring.

Chihuang took the robe, and when her fingertips brushed the slightly stiff marks, her expression turned cold once more, as if covered by a layer of frost.

Without a word, she handed Chi Lian a set of plain but clean clothes she’d gotten from the angry town spirits.

The faint rustle of clothing being donned echoed in the quiet side room.

Chihuang put the Saintess’ ceremonial robe back on, carefully smoothing out every crease, then solemnly hung the sword that symbolized her status and power at her waist.

When she raised her head again, the proud, confident, radiant Saintess of the Red Dragon Clan had returned!

As if the woman who’d collapsed, exhausted and disheveled just moments ago, was nothing but a phantom.

She took a deep breath, straightened her back, and buried all her tangled emotions deep within her eyes.

Chi Lian, too, had changed into the plain garments, and quietly stood up.

Though her clothes were simple, the newly awakened, gentle charm between her brows made her even more captivating than before.

Chihuang no longer spared Chi Lian a glance. She strode out of the side room with resolute steps.

Her eyes immediately locked onto Jiang Huai, who was speaking quietly with the slender red dragon.

“Jiang Huai.”

She called softly, her voice not loud, but carrying the clarity and composure of a deliberately adjusted Saintess.

Jiang Huai turned at the sound.

In that instant, it was as if a radiant glow swept across the room.

Chihuang stood quietly in the dim light of the ruined shrine, the Saintess’ robes of crimson crystal accentuating her breathtaking curves.

Her slender waist made her rounded hips even more prominent.

Her brows were like distant, misty mountains, her eyes like autumn waters, but at this moment they carried a trace of coolness and detachment, like a red lotus blooming atop a snowy peak—blazing, yet unattainable.

Just by standing there, she exuded an air of nobility, strength, and unassailable dignity, forming a stark contrast with the meekly standing Chi Lian at her side.

This was the true Saintess of the Red Dragon Clan—Chihuang.

Jiang Huai looked at her, and couldn’t help but reveal a hint of undisguised admiration in his gaze.

Before, Chihuang had always been either disheveled, anxious, or barely holding herself together.

Now, dressed in her ceremonial robes and exuding full presence, she truly possessed an unrivaled beauty that could move hearts.

But it didn’t matter. She no longer belonged to him; he already had Chi Lian.

“What do you want?”