Moyin still stubbornly kept her mouth shut, arms crossed before her chest in a pose of resistance.
But those eyes, hidden behind her silver hair, betrayed her wavering. “Why should I trust you? What if you’re just after my secret technique?”
Shen Luolin almost burst out laughing at her wary yet pretentiously mature act. Sis, that secret technique of yours is about as powerful as a brand-new electric scooter— even dogs would turn up their noses.
If it weren’t for the fact that improving her Fire Control Ability would raise Moyin’s Bloodline purity and help him complete his mission, Shen Luolin wouldn’t bother going to such lengths.
He decided not to waste any more words, opting for a more primal and effective method of communication.
The language of the taste buds in the mine.
Shen Luolin slowly drew his dagger, slicing the smoked meat into even, thin pieces. He found a few dry branches and set them up over his small fire.
The moment the fat met the heat, it let out a faint sizzling sound, enchanting to the soul.
A powerful aroma instantly invaded every inch of the cave’s cold air, drilling straight into Moyin’s nostrils. “Grrr—”
Moyin’s stomach rumbled with a thunderous roar, as loud as a ceremonial cannon.
Her cheeks flushed bright red, yet her eyes remained glued to the meat slices, shimmering with golden oil.
The sound of her throat gulping thoroughly gave away her soul’s desperate craving for carbs and fat.
When the meat was almost done, Shen Luolin let out a deliberate sigh.
“Ah, eating alone really is boring. Even the meat seems too hot to swallow.”
He picked up a slice of roasted, crispy meat, blew on it lightly, and was about to put it into his mouth.
“W-wait!”
Moyin finally couldn’t hold back, barking out like a little animal protecting its food.
“I’ll… I’ll try again! Just once!”
Face flushed, she squeezed out all her strength, forcing a flickering, dim little flame from her palm.
That pitiful bit of heat— forget roasting meat, it would take ages just to melt a snowflake.
Shen Luolin shook his head, wearing an expression that clearly said “You can’t carve rotten wood.”
Then, he snapped his fingers.
“Snap.”
A stable, solid, warmly orange flame quietly ignited at his fingertip.
Not a wisp of smoke, not a flicker.
He even showed off a bit, toasting the cut face of his half a black bread with the little flame at a leisurely pace.
The bread’s surface quickly turned golden and crisp, filling the air with the alluring scent of wheat.
Moyin’s pupils contracted sharply.
As a Dragonkin, her Bloodline’s strength was most directly reflected in that half-dead little flame.
Yet this mysterious “Hunter” in front of her wielded control over flame at the level of a doctoral advisor!
This was a dimensional blow to her dragon dignity!
She blurted out, voice trembling, “You… are you a Dragonkin too? No, your aura… it’s completely different!”
“You’re overthinking.” Shen Luolin withdrew the flame, blowing casually on his fingers. “Just a bit of fire-starting skill, taught by a friend of mine.”
He was certainly not Dragonkin.
His terrifying Dragon Flame Manipulation came from a Dragon Crystal thoroughly refined within his body.
That was a relic entrusted to him by Moyin’s father, Rhine-Side, the supreme legacy of the Dragonkin, capable of boosting Bloodline purity and even turning Dragonkin into True Dragons.
But one with a treasure is guilty of its possession.
This Dragon Crystal was exactly why the Empire hunted Dragonkin so relentlessly.
Shen Luolin had promised Rhine-Side that he would return this power to its rightful owner at the proper time.
But not now.
Moyin’s body was still too fragile; that small frame could never withstand the energy of the Dragon Crystal.
He pushed the roasted bread and the remaining half of the smoked meat toward her.
“Eat. Fill up, and you’ll have the strength to be a proper firestarter.”
Moyin hesitated, but in the end, couldn’t resist the fierce protest from her stomach.
She grabbed the food and devoured it ravenously, with none of a lady’s elegance— but the raw relief of a survivor.
When she’d licked even the last crumb of bread clean, Shen Luolin finally began his “lesson,” slow and unhurried.
“Listen up. Your problem isn’t lack of energy, it’s that your conversion efficiency is way too low, and you’re leaking everywhere. Your Bloodline is like a nuclear reactor, but you’re using it in the most primitive campfire mode. Ninety-nine percent of your energy is wasted on heat and smoke, get it?”
He rattled off a bunch of terms that Moyin didn’t understand, but that sounded very impressive, thoroughly stunning her.
Theory finished, Shen Luolin had her try again.
The result was, of course… no change at all.
That little flame still wobbled in the wind, looking malnourished.
Shen Luolin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Forget it, practice is the best teacher. I’ll give you a hand. Don’t move, and don’t make a fuss— I hate trouble.”
As he spoke, he stood up and moved behind Moyin.
Her body went instantly stiff as iron, every hair on end, veins bulging on her hand clutching the dagger.
She could clearly sense the pressure from the tall figure behind her— in the darkness, even the slightest movement could provoke a desperate strike.
Just then, a broad, dry palm gently pressed against her upper back.
The movement was calm and professional, like a seasoned doctor taking a pulse.
“Relax. Feel that current of heat inside you.” Shen Luolin’s voice was steady and clear, carrying an irresistible guidance. “Right now, it’s rampaging inside like the wolves outside. Don’t block it; give it a way out.”
A gentle yet unstoppable force flowed from his palm, forcibly straightening out the wild energy inside Moyin, guiding it onto the right path.
A smoothness she’d never experienced before spread through her whole body.
That burning power was no longer an uncontrollable burden, but an extension at her command.
She instinctively raised her hand—
“Whoosh!”
A fist-sized, stable orange-red flame rose from her palm.
The light drove away the cave’s chill, bathing the entire mine in warmth like spring.
Moyin stared dumbly at the flame in her hand, feeling that warmth well up from inside.
This is it!
The warmth she’d longed for on countless frozen nights!
Now she could finally get a good night’s sleep!
But the brief excitement was quickly replaced by even greater despair.
Some sealed, bloody fragments of memory suddenly surged into her mind—
When the Empire issued the order to hunt Dragonkin, Moyin had been away at school.
When she finally braved countless dangers to sneak back to the place called “home,” the fighting was already over.
There were no corpses everywhere— only dead silence, and a strange, blood-and-mugwort-scented air.
She followed the light, hiding behind a collapsed wall, and saw a scene that made her blood run backwards.
It wasn’t a battlefield, but a laboratory.
Familiar faces hung from wooden racks like livestock awaiting slaughter.
Several silver-armored Dragon-Slaying Knights calmly used scalpels and strange instruments on them, dissecting their chests.
There was no anger, no hatred— just the calm curiosity of scholars, even using tweezers to hold up a dragon scale to the light and examine it closely.
Each familiar face was laid out on a cold table, no longer “people,” but “specimens.”
“Fwoosh!”
The flame in her palm suddenly flared up, raging wildly, searing her skin.
Moyin jerked back to herself, a scalding tear sliding from the corner of her eye, sizzling as it evaporated on her hand.
“Father… Mother…” She ground her silver teeth, muttering in a voice only she could hear, “With this power… I will avenge you!”
The force of her vengeance was so strong that even Shen Luolin, standing behind her, felt a chill on his back.
He withdrew his hand, heart skipping a beat.
Good grief, this is no little lamb— this is a vengeful goddess-in-training with a bundle of dynamite!
If she ever found out that the Empire’s officially recognized “Dragon-Slaying Hero” was actually him…
Well, that would be a sight.
With a thought, the System Panel floated into his consciousness: [Target (Moyin) Bloodline purity +0.5%, current progress: 0.5%].
Shen Luolin’s mouth twitched.
This 0.5% progress felt like it could flip to -300% hatred at any moment, and then this girl would come after him with everything she had.
Trouble, truly immense trouble.
Moyin let the flame fade, swaying with exhaustion, sweat soaking her brow, but her silver eyes shone startlingly bright.
Shen Luolin sat back down, pressing down his own unease, and tossed her an old but clean blanket with deliberate calm.
“Sleep. That’s enough for today. You’re too weak; don’t bite off more than you can chew.”
Moyin pulled the blanket over herself, lying down and soaking in the long-lost sense of peace and warmth.
Fatigue and comfort soon pulled her into a half-dreaming state, her face finally softening to match her age as her consciousness blurred.
She suddenly lifted her head, the wariness fading a little from her silver eyes.
“Why are you teaching me this?”
Shen Luolin didn’t answer directly, instead gazing at the blanket covering her, speaking slowly,
“Making fire is actually pretty tiring.”
At his words, the bit of softness and warmth just budding in Moyin’s heart was immediately snuffed out.
She looked at him with undisguised complaint. So after all that, he taught her simply because he disliked her weak flames and wanted her to make fires for him?
Just as this thought surfaced, Shen Luolin’s next move seemed to confirm her suspicion.
He lifted his chin at her, his smile turning a bit sly.
“You should’ve warmed up the blanket for me, right?”
“If it’s warm, give it back. This wretched place is pretty cold.”
“You—!”
Moyin nearly ground her silver teeth to powder, but Shen Luolin had already closed his eyes, his tone returning to its earlier indifference, as if the wretched man from moments ago was someone else.
“Starting tomorrow, the firemaking’s your job.”