“Senior Sister, we should go,” Qi Yuyong said cautiously to Wu Zhaohua.
At that moment, the two of them were standing in the old courtyard where Jiang Huai had once lived. Wu Zhaohua gazed at the arrangement inside the house, unable to pull herself away for a long time.
Her eyes swept inch by inch across the little courtyard. On the windowsill sat a chipped, rough clay bowl—Jiang Huai had used it every day to brew her medicine.
The shiny groove worn into the small stool by the stove was from all the nights he sat there, mending clothes under the lamplight.
Every faded mark, every trace of wear and tear, was like an invisible thread cutting into her heart, pulling out countless memories—smoke-filled twilights tinged with the scent of medicine and Jiang Huai himself.
Memories are a road that never ends, and Wu Zhaohua was lost in them.
She couldn’t help but feel that if she just waited a little longer, as dusk deepened, Jiang Huai would come home from outside.
No matter how late it was, he always came home.
“Senior Sister… I’m sorry. I’m too weak,” Qi Yuyong said in a dejected voice.
Unlike Wu Zhaohua’s strength, the other Great Ascension cultivators—Old Woman, Monk, and the others—had all perished within Qin Qingyue’s Formation.
If not for Master Sister’s rescue, she would have died even faster.
Qi Yuyong’s words broke Wu Zhaohua’s trance, pulling her out of her memories.
“We still have to keep searching. We must snatch him back from Qin Qingyue’s hands.”
“Tell Qin Qingyue to treat Jiang Huai well. If she wants to use him to trade for something from Wenxuan Sect, then let her come and trade.” Wu Zhaohua sighed softly, turning away as she spoke.
She would never give up on Jiang Huai. Sooner or later, she would bring him home.
But what was home? This old courtyard was only their former home.
Wherever he was, that was home. As long as Jiang Huai was with her, anywhere could be home.
Wu Zhaohua’s phoenix eyes shifted to Lin Cai, her expression suddenly cold as she spoke in a chilling voice:
“To be honest, I wanted to kill you.”
It was Lin Cai who had tricked Jiang Huai into meeting the town chief, which led to Jiang Huai’s disappearance and capture by Qin Qingyue.
Who was right or wrong in this matter—whether Lin Cai had been forced or not—Wu Zhaohua neither cared nor wanted to pursue it.
In the cultivation world, everyone put their own interests first. If you chased after right and wrong in everything, you’d live a hard life and gather resources far too slowly.
Lin Cai was so frightened she couldn’t stop trembling. She swallowed reflexively, too scared even to beg for mercy.
Faced with immortals capable of traversing Heaven and Earth, all she felt was despair. Her face turned deathly pale.
“But I’ve decided to spare your life, for now. Your life or death is none of my concern—let Jiang Huai decide.”
“When Jiang Huai returns, if he thinks you deserve to die, I’ll come for you then.”
“If I want to kill you, running to the ends of the earth won’t help.”
With that, Wu Zhaohua ignored her and floated gently into the sky.
She pressed her fingers together like a sword and drew through the air. A silent, mighty force seeped into the earth’s veins.
The entire courtyard, bearing the weight of countless days and nights, along with three feet of soil beneath it, the wild grass in the corners, and even the faintest lingering trace of Jiang Huai’s scent in the air, was lifted whole and suspended steadily in midair.
Even after being spared, Lin Cai dared not leave. She stared blankly at the floating courtyard before her.
“Take this place back and set it atop my Mountain Peak. Guard it well,” Wu Zhaohua instructed Qi Yuyong.
She needed to return to the Sect, stabilize the situation, warn the other Sects that she was still here, nurture a few juniors, and then go search for Jiang Huai.
Her original plan had been for Jiang Huai to return as Successor so she could personally guide his cultivation and accompany him along the immortal path, together for life.
“Understood, Senior Sister.” Qi Yuyong reached out and used her spiritual power to support the old courtyard, taking over from Senior Sister.
“Are there any promising juniors among the younger generation?” Wu Zhaohua asked as she left, glancing back at Qi Yuyong.
Qi Yuyong quickly replied:
“There is one very promising junior I was just about to recommend as your direct disciple!”
“She has a unique physique—she might one day achieve as much as Senior Sister.”
Compared to Jiang Huai, she hoped even more that this young woman would become the Successor and Saintess of the Sect.
“Take me to see her. If she’s suitable, I’ll bring her along to search for Jiang Huai,” Wu Zhaohua said expressionlessly.
Qi Yuyong hesitated, wanting to speak but not daring to argue.
Deep into the night, the Dragon Palace was brightly lit by Night-Luminescent Pearls, their glow casting an eerie light.
Qin Qingyue sat cross-legged in meditation atop a jade couch, eyes closed, with Incense burning in the room.
But the swaying Dragon Tail betrayed her restless heart. Beneath her tightly shut eyelids, her Dragon Eyes flickered with agitation.
The jade couch was cold beneath her, the Incense curling in the air, but neither could quell the nameless fire in her chest.
Her unruly tail slapped out a restless rhythm—pa da, pa da.
Three days had passed. In these three days, Jiang Huai had hardly sought her out, simply staying in his own room or strolling idly around the Dragon Palace.
He never tried to talk to her, as if he’d forgotten her altogether.
Judging by how lively Jiang Huai had been these past days, the Misfortune on her had no effect on him at all.
After all, no matter how heavy her Misfortune, it was nothing compared to the Human Tribulation. And Jiang Huai’s fate could even withstand the Human Tribulation.
Only now did Qin Qingyue understand why, whether in the mortal world or the cultivation world, weddings were always held with such pomp and ceremony, full of ritual.
Perhaps this was the reason—it gave people a sense of belonging.
Though she’d told Jiang Huai they were married, they didn’t resemble husband and wife in the slightest.
Qin Qingyue wanted to seek him out, but didn’t know what to say. Jiang Huai also never came to her on his own.
As a woman, shouldn’t she be the one to take the initiative?
The thought made the skin beneath Qin Qingyue’s Dragon Scales flush with heat.
Hunting, fighting, seizing—these she’d mastered on her own.
But when it came to taking the initiative in a relationship, how was she supposed to do it? Was there a way to approach it step by step, just like cultivation, always doing her best?
What should she say first? ‘Why haven’t you come to see me these days?’ ‘Are you there?’
Or should she just be direct: ‘Take your pants off and let me see’?
As she was thinking this, a voice suddenly came from outside.
“Qin Qingyue, are you there?” Jiang Huai called out from not far away.
The sound made Qin Qingyue’s heart leap. With a wave of her Dragon Claw, the door swung open on its own.
She put on an air of indifference. “What is it?”
What did this mean? Did he finally remember she was his wife?
“Will you send me out of here?” Jiang Huai didn’t enter, just poked his head in to ask.
As the door opened, a wave of warm fragrance washed over him.
At that moment, Qin Qingyue was dressed extremely revealingly—though Jiang Huai couldn’t even tell if this counted as clothing for her.
Her armor had vanished. Her Dragon Horns gleamed with a dark light, her slender jade neck and delicate collarbones were whiter than snow, and everything below was completely exposed.
Large swathes of flawless skin were laid bare, without the slightest cover.
Her softest parts—her chest—were only covered by two or three black Dragon Scales, the rest left for Jiang Huai’s eyes alone.
Her waist looked delicate, but seemed to hide explosive power. Faint lines of muscle traced her abdomen.
That mysterious area was shielded only by a few Dragon Scales and a tuft of fuzz.
As for further details, they were hidden by her Dragon Tail, leaving them unclear.
This scene of temptation—was she clothed or not? Who could say?
Does the world really despise these black-scaled dragon girls? He thought they looked rather nice.
Jiang Huai bent slightly, suppressing his reaction, not wanting Qin Qingyue to notice anything amiss.
“Leave? Who allowed you to leave? Where do you want to go—to Wu Zhaohua?” Qin Qingyue frowned, making no effort to hide her displeasure.
The harder something is to win, the more you treasure it. She’d risked Wu Zhaohua burning her own source to snatch this man.
“No, but it’d be even better if I could go to Wu Zhaohua.”
“I’ve finished all your pastries and snacks.”
“I have nothing left to eat. Besides, why keep me here?” Jiang Huai said helplessly.
He was out of food—most things he couldn’t eat, only those few pastries were edible.
There weren’t even any fish or shrimp willing to swim nearby, and he couldn’t go too far.
If he didn’t leave soon, he’d starve to death.
Qin Qingyue’s Dragon Tail swayed restlessly, her gaze fixed intently on the place where Jiang Huai was suppressing himself, her heart filled with unfamiliar excitement.
Not only was this man unafraid of Misfortune, but was he actually interested in her?
“Come here. I’ll give you something to eat,” Qin Qingyue beckoned.
“What are you up to?” Jiang Huai asked warily.
He thought he glimpsed a flash of… silver in Qin Qingyue’s eyes.
Just what was it about dragon nature again?