Outside the Longyin Hall, the sea of clouds churned and surged.
Jiang Huai stood at the edge of the hall square, his feet on the white jade ground, smooth as a mirror, reflecting the light of the sky and the shadows of clouds.
“Father!”
A childish voice came from behind, shattering the tranquility.
Jiang Huai turned his head sharply.
He saw a small white figure, no more than three or four feet tall, round and chubby, swimming swiftly through the sea of clouds.
It was pure white, with delicate scales, claws extended, head shaking and tail wagging. Its appearance was less like a dragon soaring through the Nine Heavens and more like a frolicking puppy.
As it drew near, a flash of white light.
The moment the little white dragon landed, it transformed into a little girl as delicate as if carved from jade and molded from powder.
She looked about three or four years old, petite and exquisite, wearing a small snow-white dress. Her skin was fair, glowing with a healthy pink under the sunlight.
Jianjia tilted her little face up, blinking her sapphire-like big eyes, staring directly at Jiang Huai, grinning widely.
Jiang Huai was stunned for a long moment.
He opened his mouth:
“Is that you, little Jianjia? You’ve taken human form?”
Who else could the person before him be but his daughter? The familiar Yin-Yang Body aura and White Dragon bloodline, and those eyes that bore a striking resemblance to White Dew’s—there was no mistake.
“Hehe!”
Jianjia grinned, revealing a few millet grain-sized baby teeth.
She clasped her hands behind her back, proudly shaking her head, the pair of little dragon horns trembling slightly with the movement.
“Yep, yep! Am I amazing?”
Behind her, two figures landed closely after.
They were two young women in white, one was White Sandalwood, the other was an elder of the White Dragon Clan.
In the air, they clasped their hands from a distance towards Jiang Huai, their posture respectful.
“It’s been a long time, Young Lord Jiang,” White Sandalwood called out to Jiang Huai, her voice as cool and clear as ever.
She looked Jiang Huai up and down, her gaze lingering on him for a moment.
Having been in seclusion for years, she believed her cultivation had advanced considerably, not inferior to Qin Xuange’s.
Yet now, facing Jiang Huai, she felt an unfathomable sense.
Clearly only at the Peak Nascent Soul Realm, yet he gave her a feeling of profound and immeasurable pressure.
‘How is he progressing so fast?’ she muttered to herself inwardly, ‘Does he even let other dragons live?’
‘Is this the Yin-Yang Body? No wonder the Honored Master values him so much.’ she mumbled quietly to herself.
At just the Nascent Soul Stage, Jiang Huai had already completely left his peers behind.
If the Five Dragon Saintesses were to act together again, who would win or lose was truly hard to say.
Jiang Huai, however, had no time to consider White Sandalwood’s thoughts.
He crouched down, meeting Jianjia’s eye level, and opened his arms.
Jianjia immediately threw herself into his embrace.
The small body crashed into his chest, a warm, soft bundle carrying a faint milky scent.
Jiang Huai felt his heart was about to melt, just about to give his daughter a proper hug.
A flash of white light in his arms.
That small figure instantly transformed into a foot-long little white dragon, quickly crawling onto his shoulder, coiling into a ball, steadily occupying her throne on his shoulder.
She looked left and right, her dragon eyes darting around, curiously observing everything around her.
The majestic Longyin Hall, the churning sea of clouds, and Chihuang standing nearby.
“Where’s my mother?” she asked, tilting her head, her voice milky and soft.
Jiang Huai was taken aback:
“What do you mean, your mother?”
When did White Dew return? Wasn’t she busy constructing the Northern Plains’ formation defense line?
“Just now, there was a black dragon in the courtyard who said my mother was here too,” Jianjia blinked, a hint of confusion in her tone. “Was she lying to me?”
Jiang Huai was startled and looked towards Chihuang.
Chihuang’s face instantly turned bright red.
The redness spread from her cheeks all the way to her earlobes, even her neck tinged with a faint pink.
She lightly waved her hand, her movements flustered, as if feeling utterly unworthy of such a title.
In her heart, she cursed Qin Xuange even more, ‘That cheap dragon, what nonsense is she spouting for no reason?!’
‘How old am I? How can I be a mother already? How will I face my peers about this in the future?’
‘Now, what should I do? How should I respond to this title? Agreeing isn’t right, not agreeing isn’t right either.’
Jianjia’s dragon eyes shifted to Chihuang, looking her up and down.
Then, she slightly hunched, looking like she was about to hiss, her little dragon mouth opening, revealing a few tiny baby teeth:
“Father, how come I remember she was among the group of dragons who ganged up on you back then.”
Jiang Huai was torn between laughter and tears.
He reached out, ruffling her head a few times, messing up her silvery-white dragon fur, and casually steered the topic away:
“What ganging up? I needed their help back then. That was assistance, not a gang-up.”
He realized that although this child’s intelligence awakening and transformation had come earlier than other dragons, her mind was clearly not yet mature. She was simply a young dragon.
What she said was whatever came to mind, with no filter.
“Oh.”
Jianjia responded, a tone of obedience in her voice.
She lay on Jiang Huai’s shoulder, her little dragon head resting on it, murmuring:
“So my mother isn’t back.”
“If she came back, she wouldn’t lock me up in some cold pool for body tempering again, would she? I don’t want to be locked up anymore.”
“It’s really, really boring.”
Seeing this, White Sandalwood stepped back repeatedly.
She clasped her hands towards Jiang Huai, speaking rapidly:
“Young Lord Jiang, since that’s the case, I shall take my leave. Jianjia is entrusted to you.”
“If the Clan Leader asks in the future, I’ll have an explanation.”
With that, she turned into a streak of light without looking back, soaring into the sky, disappearing at the horizon.
Jiang Huai watched the distant streak of light, then looked at the little daughter on his shoulder, poking her dragon horn:
“Were you impolite to her? She ran off so fast.”
Jianjia’s dragon eyes darted around, shaking her head, speaking in a delicate, coquettish tone:
“Nooo, Jianjia didn’t say anything bad.”
The tone was innocent and guiltless, making one reluctant to press further.
Jiang Huai observed the little white dragon on his shoulder, myriad thoughts swirling in his heart.
His daughter was a female Yin-Yang Body. Presumably, she wouldn’t have to suffer as he did.
She only needed to have the Five Dragon Marks on her; she wouldn’t need to collect Yin Yuan like he had to.
He waved his hand, a flash of white light.
A crystal coffin appeared before them.
The coffin was completely transparent, refracting a cool, clear brilliance under the sunlight.
Inside the coffin lay a young, tall, and beautiful woman. Her eyes were closed, her face dignified and heroic, her expression peaceful, as if merely asleep.
Jiang Huai said softly:
“Will you come with me to pay respects to a senior?”
Jianjia tilted her head, looking at the woman in the coffin, blinking.
She didn’t ask “Who is this?” nor “Why?” She just obediently nodded, her little dragon head nuzzling against Jiang Huai’s neck:
“Okay.”
—
Immortal Realm, Forbidden Zone.
Qin Qingyue abruptly opened her eyes.
Those red vertical pupils contracted sharply for an instant, then regained focus.
She let out a deep breath, sat up, and stretched her body—neck, shoulders, wrists—each joint emitting a faint cracking sound.
She smacked her lips, deeply marveling.
The period of sharing a body had nearly made her think that body was her own.
Now, returning to her own body, she realized there was nothing in her mouth, yet that incredibly long, intoxicating aftertaste still lingered in her mind, refusing to fade.
‘Truly marvelous, this Bloodline Technique.’
“You’re back?”
A cool voice came from behind her.
Qin Qingyue turned around.
Wu Zhaohua stood not far away, holding her sword.
Her blood-stained white dress fluttered without wind in the void, the hem gently swaying like a white lotus blooming amidst ruins.
Her beautiful face was expressionless, only those eyes fixed intently on Qin Qingyue.
Qin Qingyue stood up and walked over to her.
“I saw him,” she said, the smile on her face unconcealable, a genuine, undisguised joy from the heart.
“He’s alive and kicking, no need to worry.”
If it were in the past, she would never have believed that Wu Zhaohua, this woman, would actually protect her in meditation until now.
This former nemesis had now become her sole reliance in the Immortal Realm.
Many emotions flashed in Wu Zhaohua’s eyes.
Envy, concern, and jealousy that was difficult to conceal.
Holding her sword, she let out a light hum.
An intense surge of unwillingness welled up in Wu Zhaohua’s heart, like a tidal wave, almost overwhelming her.
‘Why?’
‘Why?’
‘Why?’
‘Why can you see him in the Immortal Realm? Why could you take him away back then? Why is it only you?’
Outwardly calm, inwardly, her heart was already in turmoil.
Countless painful, resentful emotions intertwined, turning into thick jealousy, like an invisible net tightly entangling her, making her increasingly suffocated.
In a place unnoticed by both Qin Qingyue and Wu Zhaohua, a grayish mark quietly appeared in Wu Zhaohua’s Recognition Sea.
The mark was extremely faint and thin, like a lurking venomous snake, carrying a pure aura of Extraterrestrial Demons.
It fished in troubled waters within this ocean of negative emotions, hiding stealthily.
“Got it. Let’s go.”
Wu Zhaohua said expressionlessly.
She drew her long sword, the blade gleaming with a cold light.
Her mood grew increasingly restless, as if something was gnawing at the bottom of her heart.
Qin Qingyue hesitated for a moment.
Looking at Wu Zhaohua’s back, she said softly:
“Speaking of which, he asked me to bring you a message.”
Wu Zhaohua’s footsteps halted.