Chapter 318: Big Brother Nian

“What’s going on?”

Jiang Huai had no idea what was happening before him. He could only take it one step at a time.

He slowly rose, straightened his red wedding robe, and followed Cang Ling out.

Ao Yao swayed her head, her tiny face swiveling left and right, those big emerald eyes full of curiosity.

She instinctively followed behind Jiang Huai, sticking close, and her small hand quietly grabbed the hem of his robe.

The gesture was natural and intimate.

They stepped out of the door.

Jiang Huai froze.

Before him was a sight he had never seen before.

The sky was a pure, pale gold, like glass soaked in sunlight.

Countless dragons danced in the air.

Their bodies were strong and agile, their scales shimmering with a warm yellow light. Their dragon tails trailed long golden flames as they circled and glided beneath the pale gold sky, letting out long, resonant dragon roars.

Those roars rose and fell, echoing across the heavens and earth, carrying an ancient, solemn rhythm.

On the ground stretched a continuous chain of palaces, their bodies lofty and majestic, their eaves tilted high.

Around the palace bodies, clouds and mist coiled, and faintly, golden dragon shadows could be seen darting through them.

Everywhere was a scene of joy and festivity.

Red lanterns hung from every pillar and rafter. Red silk fabric cascaded from the rooftops, fluttering gently in the wind.

The ground was covered with a red carpet that extended all the way to the edge of sight.

The dragons gathered in small groups, some circling in the air, some talking on the ground, some weaving between the palaces.

They all had red ribbons tied to them—the mark of celebration.

Most of them were yellow dragons.

Occasionally, there were other dragons—red dragons, black dragons, even a few white dragons—but not many.

They mingled among the yellow dragons, looking a bit out of place, yet they were still embraced by this festive atmosphere.

It seemed that here, the yellow dragons were the main tribe.

Ao Yao quietly watched all of this, her big emerald eyes full of bewilderment.

She didn’t recognize a single dragon.

As the Azure Dragon Saintess, her connections were not bad, but so many dragons, and she didn’t know any of them.

She secretly transmitted her voice to Jiang Huai, her voice soft and gentle:

‘Jiang Huai, I haven’t seen any of these dragons before.’

Jiang Huai remained expressionless and transmitted back:

‘What do you think? If I remind Cang Ling right now that this is an illusion realm, do you think she’ll wake up?’

Ao Yao shook her head, her little face solemn:

‘I don’t know. I don’t know if she can wake up either.’

She hesitated, then carefully said to Cang Ling:

“Cang Ling, don’t you think something’s off?”

Cang Ling slightly frowned, a look of confusion spreading across her bright face.

She gave Ao Yao a strange look and asked:

“What’s off?”

Ao Yao fell silent.

She thought for a moment, then changed the question:

“What’s our relationship?”

Cang Ling frowned even more, staring at Ao Yao as if she were talking nonsense:

“Friends.”

She paused, then added: “What’s wrong?”

Ao Yao understood in her heart.

She had basically confirmed her identity. In this illusion realm, she had been arranged to be Cang Ling’s “friend.”

She looked around, her gaze sweeping over the dancing yellow dragons, the talking dragons, the darting figures.

Not a single one did she recognize.

Not a single one was real.

This meant one thing: this secret realm had an extremely strong adaptive ability.

After she and Jiang Huai entered, the realm had arranged their identities without Cang Ling even noticing.

“Where’s Cang Jing?” Ao Yao asked again.

Cang Ling laughed, a smile tinged with helplessness:

“Her? She’s too embarrassed to come.”

She paused, lowering her voice as if sharing a little secret:

“You know my elder sister—she has a cold personality and doesn’t like lively events. On occasions like this, she stays far away.”

Jiang Huai’s heart stirred.

He couldn’t help but ask:

“Cang Ling, do you still remember us being inside the secret realm?”

Cang Ling was taken aback.

She stopped, turned around, and reached out to touch Jiang Huai’s forehead. Her fingertips were warm, carrying a faint body heat.

She murmured, her tone full of confusion:

“What are you talking about?”

“You seem a bit off. Did you have a nightmare?”

Jiang Huai said a few more things.

He cautiously brought up the secret realm, the extraterrestrial demons, and those crystals.

Cang Ling still looked completely bewildered.

Those amber eyes held not a trace of doubt, only pure confusion, as if she were listening to someone raving nonsense.

Then Jiang Huai understood.

It probably wasn’t possible to wake her up for now.

He exchanged a glance with Ao Yao, and they both saw the same meaning in each other’s eyes:

They could only take it one step at a time.

“Hey, hey.”

Cang Ling’s voice suddenly rang out, tinged with displeasure and a hint of jealousy.

She glared at Ao Yao.

Those amber eyes held an undisguised possessiveness.

She suddenly reached out, pulled Jiang Huai into her arms, and hugged him.

Jiang Huai’s eyes went wide.

Her body wasn’t particularly soft; it carried a warrior’s strength.

But it was precisely that strength that made her feel like a warm little mountain, trapping him firmly in her embrace, unable to move, yet giving a strong sense of security.

Jiang Huai tried to push away, but found her slender arms were like iron hoops, utterly immovable.

Ao Yao’s eyes went wide.

She watched the scene helplessly, watching Jiang Huai being held tight by Cang Ling, her little mouth slightly open, momentarily at a loss for words.

“Let’s go.”

Cang Ling released him, but then linked her arm with Jiang Huai’s, her gesture intimate and natural:

“Let’s go get married.”

Jiang Huai: “…”

Ao Yao: “…”

Along the way, Jiang Huai frantically signaled Ao Yao with his eyes.

He winked and made all kinds of hints, trying to get her to think of something—a way to escape, a way to figure out the truth of this world, a way to wake Cang Ling.

But Ao Yao just shook her head.

She spread her hands and shrugged, looking helpless.

No way.

Absolutely no way.

Until Cang Ling pushed Jiang Huai into the sedan chair.

Cang Ling herself transformed into a dragon.

A flash of golden light, and a massive golden dragon appeared before them.

The dragon’s body was strong and agile, its scales gleaming with a soft luster, its horns majestic.

She bent down, fastened the sedan chair’s ropes to herself, and pulled the carriage away!

In the dragon race’s wedding ritual, it was always the dragon itself that pulled the man.

Ao Yao could only transform into a dragon behind them, chasing after that golden dragon and the sedan chair.

‘We split up,’ Jiang Huai’s voice sounded in her sea of recognition. ‘I’ll go deal with her for now. You go gather information about this world.’

Ao Yao nodded and quietly veered away from the sedan chair’s direction.

The wedding went on for a long time.

Jiang Huai, inexplicably covered by a red veil, bowed with Cang Ling.

First bow to heaven and earth, second bow to parents, then the couple bows to each other.

All around were the cheers of countless dragons, the thunderous sound of drums and gongs, the crackling of firecrackers.

Red silk danced in the air, golden dragon shadows swam in the sky, and the whole world was immersed in a grand, clamorous atmosphere.

Jiang Huai, under the red veil, couldn’t see a thing.

He could only hear sounds, feel himself being led by the hand, pushed along, and surrounded.

Until they entered the bridal chamber.

The door slammed shut with a bang, cutting off all the noise from outside.

Jiang Huai finally lifted the red veil.

He let out a long breath, his gaze sweeping over the luxuriously decorated bridal chamber.

A red carpet, red bed curtains, red wedding candles.

The candlelight flickered, casting the whole room in an ambiguous red glow.

“Ao Yao?” he muttered, frowning slightly. “Why isn’t she back yet?”

He looked out the window. Outside had quieted down, with only the occasional dragon roar drifting in.

“She didn’t run into any danger, did she?”

Her short sword was still with him; she hadn’t asked for it back.

Jiang Huai quietly took out the short sword.

That cyan short sword now lay quietly in his palm. The sheath was warm and smooth like jade, faintly glowing with a pale light.

He hesitated, then slowly tried to draw the blade.

He had barely pulled it out a fraction when an extremely strong resistance met him.

The sheath was pulling back, with a hint of indignation, as if expressing some displeased emotion.

That force was very strong—he couldn’t pull it out at all for the moment.

Jiang Huai twitched the corner of his mouth.

“Looks like she’s fine.”

“She’s still got plenty of spirit.”

He withdrew his strength and put the short sword away.

The door suddenly opened.

A cold, indifferent voice came from the doorway:

“Who told you to lift the veil?”

That voice was completely different from Cang Ling’s warmth—clear, cold, and distant.

Jiang Huai looked up sharply.

At the door stood a woman.

She wore a red wedding dress, identical in style to Cang Ling’s, but on her, it gave a completely different impression—no charm or allure, only a frosty aloofness.

Jiang Huai recognized her at a glance. This wasn’t Cang Ling.

Those amber eyes held none of Cang Ling’s bright smile—only a serene coldness.

“Is it Cang Jing?” Jiang Huai asked carefully.

The woman put her hands on her hips, her expression unchanging, her tone laced with detachment:

“Who else?”