“Mother.”
“The True Dragon of the Su Family’s back mountain has fallen.”
I stood by the window, gazing at the brilliant blood rain sparkling under the sunlight.
A faint rainbow appeared on the horizon.
A grand thunder strike had come—without shadow, without trace.
It dissipated completely, leaving no mark behind.
“I know.”
I am not a member of the Su family.
I have no ties with the ancestors of the Su clan, so I couldn’t quite feel the deep sorrow others carried in their hearts.
“Zhi Zhi.”
As dusk fell, the orange sun on the horizon rested on the white, delicate fingertips supporting the bed frame.
I softly called my daughter’s name, “This is… a thunder tribulation, right?”
“Didn’t you have a thunder tribulation when you broke through just now?”
Si Zhiruo shook her little head, “Zhi Zhi doesn’t know…”
“Maybe it hasn’t been born yet.”
Wouldn’t that mean a big one’s been saved up? A trace of worry appeared between my brows.
Si Zhiruo explained, “It shouldn’t be a big problem… Even if a thunder tribulation forms, I’m not some old relic half buried in the earth. The success rate of passing the tribulation will be almost one hundred percent.”
Listening to her, it made sense, and my worries faded considerably.
I looked outside, estimating that Su Liumeng probably wouldn’t return, then yawned and closed the window a bit to keep the wind from blowing too much into the room.
“Mom.”
“Are you sleepy again?”
“Mm.” There was nothing but exhaustion in my eyes.
Sleeping long had become normal, and after inhaling so much yin-cold energy, feeling slightly uncomfortable was only natural.
“Take a little rest.” The little one immediately perked up, “I’ll tell Mom a story.”
A story? I was momentarily taken aback. The last story she told was still vivid in my mind—vastly different from the fairy tales I usually heard.
It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested, but somehow listening to those twisted stories felt a bit odd.
“Mommy doesn’t like Zhi Zhi’s stories?”
Si Zhiruo’s mood suddenly dropped.
Usually, when she was fine, she used formal titles like “Niangqin” or “Mom.”
But when she wanted to be cute or spoiled, she would softly call “Niangqin” in a pitiful tone that I honestly couldn’t resist—an automatic mode-switch depending on the surroundings.
I paused for a second, then smiled and replied, “How could Mommy not like baby’s stories?”
Forget it.
After all, she’s my own child.
A little spoiled behavior wasn’t a bad thing.
I was very good at being spoiled myself; Su Liumeng often found herself helpless against me, both headache-inducing and powerless.
I sat down on the bed edge, my slippers sliding off my stiff feet and hitting the floor with a thud.
My feet dangled in the cool air, gently swaying back and forth, drawing some attention.
I recalled carefully—
When did this little one start learning my mannerisms?
It seemed impossible to say.
To this day, I still cannot forget the first time I entered Si Zhiruo’s sea of consciousness.
The little girl tugged at my clothes, tearful eyes brimming with sorrow.
My hesitation.
My unspoken worries…
All transformed into the dimming stars in her eyes.
That plea, as if a last hope to hold me back, filled my future years with countless tingling moments whenever recalled.
“Mm, then baby will start now.” Si Zhiruo opened her revised fairy tale book and sat properly under the tree.
She placed the book on her lap, stared intently at the human characters, cleared her throat, and began reading from the first sentence in an excited voice.
She even thoughtfully reviewed the story, “Previously, when Snow White was framed by the wicked queen, she met a pitch-black cave in the forest.
Inside was a pile of white bones.
Following the system’s instructions and performing the ritual of three kneelings and nine kowtows, she officially acquired her first martial arts manual.”
“With the system’s help, she decided to take revenge alone, politely rejecting the seven dwarves’ enthusiastic invitations, and focused on cultivating in the cave.”
“She roared more than once, vowing never to live without avenging her grievance.”
“Now, starting the latest plot.”
“Mom is listening.” I rolled over onto the bed and pulled the blanket up a little, eyes filled with recollection.
This was the family completeness I longed for.
Si Zhiruo read through a page, a little tired but hiding it well, “Mom, is that woman not coming back tonight?”
“Probably… not coming back.” I quietly sensed Su Liumeng’s state.
She seemed busy at the moment.
Likely handling the last affairs of the Su family, probably no chance to return.
“Hmm, what a bad woman.”
“She just got married and left Mom to keep the empty house alone.”
“Favorability -10.”
“If I deduct another thirty points, I’m going to fire her and find a hundred more for Mom…”
“Ahem ahem ahem…” I nearly choked and hastily interrupted my daughter.
That kind of talk wouldn’t do.
She made it sound like I was a harem lord with three thousand beauties.
“Baby, I think I’ve told you.” I tried to explain seriously, “Mom believes in pure love.
Do you know what pure love is?
It means only being able to like one person.”
“I know! Daughter knows what pure love is.” Si Zhiruo raised her little face and smiled brightly, sticking to her own theory, “Isn’t it also pure love to like everyone equally, treat everyone as your wings, and never think of betraying anyone?”
I fell silent, then finally blurted, “What book have you been reading recently? Hand it over immediately.”
Si Zhiruo stuck out her little tongue, frowned, and threw out a book she’d secretly kept hidden deep in her sea of consciousness.
“The last one.”
“Baby’s fault.”
I looked at the pure white book cover.
It looked like a photocopy from my own bookshelf, so I flipped to the back.
[Five Great Traitors Try to Compete, Pure Love Fairy’s Five Births Run Away.]
Seeing the ridiculous content inside, my lingering worry finally died.
Good, it was a book I bought when I was out of my mind.
I had cleaned the bookshelf, but couldn’t stop this little one from copying it ahead of time.
I didn’t want to emphasize it again and tried to correct her, “Read less romantic fanfiction, Mom confiscates it.”
“No way.” The little one had her own ideas, covering her ears and shaking her head, “It’s really good.”
“Not listening to Mom?”
I had to pull out the trump card.
Hearing that, she obediently calmed down, no longer trying to act cute or fool me, “Zhi Zhi will listen to Mom.”
I looked at the book in my hand.
Whatever, let her be.
Children grow up with their own ideas.
Besides, the future is still far away—who knows what will happen in decades.
These kinds of books aren’t without merit.
One obvious thing—
At least I don’t have to worry about my baby growing up and being kidnapped by some weird pervert.
Si Zhiruo tilted her head, “Mom, are you worried that daughter will fall in love too early?”
I almost fell off the bed.
This girl, how does she know everything?
“Hmph hmph.” The little one shook her head, “I don’t want to fall in love.
People outside only want to trick me.
Zhi Zhi wants to protect Mom forever, be Mom’s little cotton-padded jacket forever, and won’t be tricked away by bad people.”
In her eyes, anyone trying to take away the person she loves is equivalent to preventing her from wholeheartedly honoring Mom—basically being tricked away by bad guys.
Though young, she already has her own set of theories.
Hearing this, my heart felt warm.
Raising this daughter was worth it.
They say children speak without filters, but sometimes they say what they truly feel.
Si Zhiruo flipped through her storybook happily.
As long as the bad woman didn’t return, Mom belonged solely to her.
She didn’t know how much she wanted to talk with Mom a little longer.
Now, finally having this chance, her happiness was visible to the naked eye.
Though very sleepy, she still forced herself to stay alert, cherishing this rare mother-daughter time.
She held grudges and was determined to reclaim what was hers once born.
For now, let some bad woman act arrogantly.
“Mom, there’s still one story I haven’t heard.”
“Read on, I… have been listening all along.”
I pulled my head deeper into the blanket.
My baby’s voice really was the best lullaby.
Having a daughter is such a joyful thing—truly the most wonderful experience in the world.
While listening to my baby’s story, I suddenly thought of something and said seriously, “Don’t always call her the bad woman.
If you don’t like her and don’t want to call her Auntie, just call her by her name.
Calling her ‘bad woman’ every day sounds so rude.”
“Didn’t daughter say anything wrong? Where did I mess up?” Si Zhiruo’s little hand froze, eyes a little aggrieved.
“She took away half of my mom.
Isn’t she… a bad woman?
Mom and I used to live so happily together.”
“I just don’t want to call her by her name.”
For the first time, Si Zhiruo strongly expressed her own feelings.
Many times, what others call the rebellious phase of children is just the first clear, strong expression of their thoughts, ending in unresolved conflict.
I felt a pang in my heart.
Hearing my daughter’s stifled sob, my heart immediately softened.
No longer thinking of anyone else, I could only gently coax, “Don’t cry, please don’t cry.
Mom won’t say anything about you anymore, okay?
Bad woman will just be bad woman.
You can call her whatever you want.”
As a mother, I truly couldn’t bear my daughter’s tears.
I hated not being able to pluck a star from the sky to give her, how could I let her suffer even a little?
I silently apologized in my heart to Su Liumeng.
You should understand—it’s my daughter…
Si Zhiruo’s eyes held a hint of slyness, but the sadness just now was real.
Once again, she confirmed that Mom loves her more.
The little one’s mood brightened; her fair toes curled upward.
She was the sum of countless abandoned infants’ resentments.
A person deprived of love will only fear losing it more after receiving the love they desire.
Thus, they always try to prove they are not lacking love, sometimes by unreasonable tantrums to confirm they have favoritism.
No wonder she’s Si Xinyan’s daughter.
The two share some innate similarities in personality.
Turning the page, I gradually breathed evenly to my daughter’s soft voice.
Si Zhiruo closed her little book and turned to one side under the tree, resting her palm under her head.
Curled up in a ball, she fell asleep within seconds.
Her estimated due date was around February 15th.
Only a few days remained until January’s end.
Thinking about life after birth, even though the little one had fallen asleep, the eager emotion on her little face remained.
******
Back mountain.
Su Liumeng pushed open the door and saw the empty room with a weathered tombstone engraved long ago.
She held the wooden tombstone, selected some items the elder had used, and beside the tomb of the twelfth ancestor, dug a small grave to place the living goods.
Though no teachings had been passed down, gifting her the dragon bone allowed her to advance greatly on the path to seeking the Dao—almost like a half-mentor.
After brief thought, Su Liumeng respectfully bowed three times.
The old man’s calligraphy on the tombstone was aged yet strong.
Though brush-written, the characters seemed carved into the wood with great skill.
“Travel well.”
Su Liumeng silently memorized the words, then turned to the dragon bone’s location.
She extracted the marrow from the dragon bone, but did not leave the cabin area.
Instead, she sat cross-legged on the ground, preparing to complete the final piece of the dragon blood puzzle.
This fusion should finally enable her to fully transform into a dragon.
Then, she could freely switch between semi-dragon and full form.
Also becoming the form that Xiao Yan liked most.
Before entering meditation, Su Liumeng imagined how excited her wife would be when she reverted.
A faint curve appeared on her lips.
The Heavenly Nine Dragons Technique—each additional fusion of dragon blood added more power to this martial art.
Nine is the ultimate number, representing the technique’s true perfected form.
Legend says none of the Su family’s talented ancestors had ever achieved this feat.
She would bring it to perfection here.
The night on the back mountain was pitch black.
Just after dusk, the cawing of crows was heard overhead.
An owl flapped its wings nearby, tilting its head that could rotate almost a full circle to stare at Su Liumeng.
It seemed to wonder when such a big old rat had appeared on the ground.
Su Liumeng sat cross-legged, her white-and-pink fairy dress spread on the dirt.
She looked devout as if praying.
Before her floated a gelatinous mass in midair.
After a long time, she adjusted her state to perfection and slowly opened her eyes.
A bright light flashed briefly in them.
When she grasped Si Xinyan’s dagger, Su Liumeng pondered and took out a paper crane.
Using her spiritual power, she inscribed a sentence on it.
Since married, one must uphold feminine virtue.
When not returning home at night, one must give a reason.
No matter how strong the bond, sensing each other’s state, respect was indispensable.
Once married, many big future conflicts arise from the accumulation of small friction.
Su Liumeng often saw similar posts online.
Before marriage, she vowed if she ever married her beloved, she would never make any mistakes she had seen.
After finishing all this, she sighed in relief, then sliced one end of the dagger across her snow-white skin.
Fusing marrow wasn’t simply absorption.
If no blood appeared, how could it succeed?
Because it was a qualitative change caused by mass production—the final crucial true blood.
Su Liumeng had prepared for a prolonged battle in advance.
*****
The next day.
I still slept until the sun was high.
No matter how early I slept, I always woke at this time.
If that’s the case, why bother sleeping early?
My thought was foolish, completely illogical.