Inside the Main Hall of the White Dragon Clan, the entire chamber was like a crystal palace, filled with a sense of solemnity and coldness.
White Dew sat perched upon the Dragon Throne at the far end of the hall.
She wore a dress as white as snow, devoid of any unnecessary ornaments.
Her slender hands flipped through the various communication jade slips and scrolls floating before her.
Her expression remained cold and indifferent, resembling a ten-thousand-year-old Snow Peak that never melted.
She was engaged in a brief exchange with several human Cultivators and Dragon Elders standing below. Her voice was clear, carrying no emotional fluctuations.
“Send word to the Sword Sect of the Southern Flame and the Pavilion of Heavenly Craftsmanship, who are still hesitating. The Northern Plain Defense Line is our only hope now.”
“If they still cling to their old ways, enamored with their ancestral lands and unwilling to migrate here to fight the Heavenly Demons together, then let them be. They will be responsible for their own lives; I will not send a single soldier south to aid them.”
“This is the newly demarcated map of the garrison areas for each power. Distribute it and ensure it is strictly followed.”
“Anyone who crosses borders without permission or fights over resources — whether they be from the Human Race or the Dragon Race — will be treated as a wartime felon. They will be punished severely and without mercy.”
She handled the complicated affairs one by one, her logic clear and her decisions decisive, without the slightest hesitation.
Below her, whether it was the human powerhouses who had recently sought refuge and still wore expressions of lingering fear, or the Elders of her own or other clans, everyone held their breath. Deep awe was etched into their faces, and their words and actions were incredibly respectful, almost to the point of prostration.
There was no other reason for this.
Currently, the situation across the Five Provinces had collapsed, and there was a gap in the top-tier combat power. Figures of brilliant talent like Qin Qingyue and Wu Zhaohua had already achieved Ascension to the Immortal Realm. Although Dragon Race Great Ascensions like Chi Hong and Ao Shuang remained, they were ultimately a step behind.
Only the White Dragon Clan Leader before them, who had awakened from an ancient ice-seal, possessed the oldest seniority and most abundant experience. Furthermore, after obtaining the Innate Primordial Qi and the Chaos Dao Platform, her strength had become unfathomable. She was the publicly acknowledged pillar of this world and the undisputed leader of the Anti-Demon Alliance.
Most of the other humans and monsters were newly advanced to the Mahayana Realm and simply could not compare to someone with White Dew’s ancient standing.
“Please rest assured, White Clan Leader. We will convey your will exactly as instructed!” a human female Cultivator replied with a bow, her tone filled with heartfelt respect.
“Mhm.” White Dew did not even lift her eyes. She simply pushed a completed jade slip through the air toward the woman and waved her hand, signaling for her to withdraw.
Just then, White Dew, who was focused on the next scroll, paused her fingertips. She looked up and calmly instructed the White Dragon maidservant standing by the Dragon Throne.
“Pass down the order. The Saintess and the Grand Elder will handle the remaining matters for today in my stead. I will review the results tomorrow.”
Like the other members of the White Dragon Clan, the maidservant’s expression was cold. Upon hearing the order, she merely bowed slightly. “As you command.”
“The rest of you may leave as well.” White Dew leaned back slightly against the cold back of the chair and closed her icy blue eyes, waving her hand as if exhausted.
The people in the hall bowed silently and exited quickly. In the blink of an eye, the magnificent and cold palace became completely silent, save for the sound of approaching footsteps.
The footsteps were neither fast nor slow, sounding particularly abrupt and heart-stirring in the silence. White Dew’s heart rate suddenly accelerated, as if gripped by an invisible hand and then abruptly released.
Anticipation, nervousness, and a flutter of excitement quickly spread from her chest to her entire body. However, the icy expression on her beautiful face did not melt in the slightest. She maintained her eternal coldness and tranquility, though her slender hands hidden within her wide sleeves curled slightly at the fingertips.
‘He finally came.’
‘Why did he only just arrive?’
If he had waited a few more days, White Dew would have almost started to wonder if he was truly annoyed by her deliberate coldness, or if he simply did not care about her that much in his heart.
The figure finally appeared at the entrance of the hall. Jiang Huai was dressed in a Black Robe, a sword hanging at his waist, as he stepped into the hall with a steady gait. He stopped several yards away from the Dragon Throne and looked up, his gaze meeting hers as she sat high upon the icy steps.
White Dew slowly sat up straight, her skirt remaining perfectly still. She lowered her eyelids, her icy blue eyes quietly meeting his gaze as if she were inspecting an ordinary visitor. After a moment, her red lips parted slightly, and her voice was clear and flat, like ice beads dropping onto the floor.
“Why have you come?”
For some reason, simply watching Jiang Huai walk toward her step by step acted like a key, unlocking a secret, burning chest deep within her. Fantasy images began to surge uncontrollably in her mind.
In her thoughts, the Jiang Huai walking toward her should have been more assertive, even possessive. He should not be wearing that quiet Black Robe, but rather an unblemished, pure white robe that blended into this icy palace yet stood above it. And at his waist, there should not be a sword, but rather an exquisitely crafted, flexible white leather whip, or perhaps a smooth, cold jade ruler meant for correction.
As he approached, she would involuntarily slide down from the Dragon Throne — the symbol of her power and status — with a tremble of both fear and longing. She would lower her usually arrogant head and body like a tamed creature, using her knees and palms to slowly crawl toward him in a fawning manner. The elegant white Dragon Tail behind her would no longer sway unconsciously, but would wag like a puppy begging for mercy, moving with obvious subservience as it tried to wrap around his ankles.
In that moment, the titles of White Dragon Clan Leader and leader of the Five Provinces’ alliance would be cast aside. She only wanted to shed all her burdens and disguises, peel away the layers of scales to reveal her softest interior, and willingly become nothing more than a docile little female dragon at his feet, cravenly seeking her master’s pity and discipline.
He would use that whip or ruler to “punish” her without mercy.
Punish her for always keeping a cold face and never showing him a smile.
Punish her for clearly caring in her heart, yet deliberately acting distant and detached.
Punish her for not visiting him or accompanying him more often, regardless of the countless valid reasons she had.
No matter the excuse, she craved his “punishment” in the depths of her soul. The possessiveness, attention, and subjugation beneath those rough actions meant more to her than ten thousand tender words. Her recent deliberate coldness was perhaps a secret hope in the hidden corners of her heart, a quiet expectation that she could “create” a reason for him to come and “punish” her.
The thought filled her with shame, yet she was addicted to it. A warm current surged deep in her lower abdomen, bringing waves of tingling and emptiness.
Just as her mind was drowning in the fantasy, Jiang Huai’s voice pulled her back to the cold reality.
“Can I not come to see you?” Jiang Huai’s voice rang out, carrying confusion and a trace of dissatisfaction left over from being treated coldly. He looked up at White Dew and continued to ask:
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