[Chaos Realm]
The scene here was exactly the same as Cang Jing’s secret realm.
The same murky yellow, the same chaos, the same endless yellow that made direction impossible.
The same stone platform, the same protrusions, the same part growing from deep within the earth.
Cang Ling sat atop the stone platform.
Her face was pale, as if all color had been drained from her, like paper bled dry. Her lips were purple and slightly parted, fine beads of sweat oozing from her forehead and sliding down her cheeks.
Those amber eyes were half-open, half-closed, her pupils scattered, all former vitality gone.
The entire dragon was listless, drooping her head weakly, her spine curved.
“I… Am I not dead?” She murmured to herself, her voice hoarse.
She remembered clearly.
The separation pressure in this Yellow Dragon Secret Realm had been too great, too much for her to bear.
That pressure surged from all directions, seeped through every inch of skin, poured in with every breath, pressing until her bones creaked, until her internal organs shifted.
She felt the breath of death, her consciousness blurring bit by bit, dissipating bit by bit.
In the end, she should have died.
Before death, she suddenly felt relieved.
‘Sister won’t scold me anymore, will she?’
‘If I die, she gains her freedom.’
‘No more enduring those awkward moments, no more suffering those pains, no more struggling with those indescribable cravings.’
‘Sister can live freely, love freely, do whatever she wants.’
At this thought, the corner of her mouth even curled up slightly.
“Cang Ling! Cang Ling!”
A familiar voice sounded in her ears.
The voice was urgent, laced with worry, piercing through the chaos, through the murky yellow, through the layers upon layers of pressure, drilling straight into her ears.
Cang Ling frowned.
She looked blankly at the yellow surroundings, at a loss.
Her gaze was scattered and empty, like someone just awakened from a long dream, unable to distinguish dream from reality.
‘What sound? Who’s calling me?’
‘Is my sister here?’
‘Why didn’t I feel her arrival? We were once one. If she came, I should have sensed her immediately.’
‘But now there’s nothing.’
‘And it can’t be an outsider, can it?’
‘Isn’t this the forbidden land of the Yellow Dragon Clan? How could an outsider enter?’
Half-conscious, Cang Ling felt the pressure on her shoulders increase again.
The weight pressed down heavily, like an invisible mountain, forcing her spine to bend, making her breathing rapid.
She couldn’t help gritting her teeth and persevering.
‘Sister, I want to be separate from my sister.’
‘I don’t want my sister to endure this pain. I want…’
Until a pair of familiar hands appeared before her eyes.
Those hands were slender, with distinct knuckles, the palms warm.
They pierced through the murky yellow, through the chaos, through the layers of pressure, reaching straight out to her.
“Cang Ling.”
“Your sister is waiting for you.”
Sweat wet her eyes.
Her vision blurred; she couldn’t see the person’s face clearly.
Hearing her sister’s name, she subconsciously reached out and grabbed tightly.
A great force struck.
Jiang Huai swung his sword, and a cyan light flared—bright and pure, pushing back the surrounding yellow by several yards.
The blade cut across the void, drawing a huge rift, and surging demonic Qi churned behind the crack.
Outside.
The crystal belonging to Cang Ling cracked with a crack.
Like an eggshell bursting from the inside, fine lines spread from the center outward, until the whole crystal was covered in cracks.
Jiang Huai brought them back and landed.
Beneath their feet was cracked earth; above their heads a dark purple sky.
In the distance, that strange tree was still trembling, its vines flailing wildly.
Cang Ling stood on the ground, looking at her sister before her, and all her memories came flooding back.
Those memories that had been sealed, covered, devoured by the illusion realm, poured out like a bursting dam—surging, unstoppable.
She remembered why they were here, and muttered:
“Sis…”
Cang Jing’s face was pale, her breath faint, leaning on Qin Xuange. When she heard the voice, she trembled slightly, her delicate body suddenly going limp.
Seeing this, Jiang Huai patted Cang Ling’s back and gently comforted:
“It’s going to hurt a bit.”
“Bear with it.”
Cang Ling puffed out her chest.
Even though her body was weak and her face pale, she still spoke in a lively tone:
“We Yellow Dragons are the least afraid of pain!”
“Bring it on!”
Jiang Huai smiled and swung the Azure Dragon Short Sword at her.
The blade’s light swirled, black and white intertwining, turning into a sharp Sword Qi that entered Cang Ling’s body.
That Sword Qi did not harm her; it separated the part of the soul and flesh that belonged to Cang Jing but was inside her.
Cang Ling’s breathing grew rapid. She clenched her teeth and persisted, her eyes instinctively turning stubborn—that was the tenacity of the Yellow Dragon clan.
A small ball of light drifted out from Cang Ling’s body, warm and bright, spinning gently in the air.
Jiang Huai turned his wrist, and the ball of light flew into Cang Jing’s body.
That ball of light merged into Cang Jing’s body.
From then on, what belonged to Cang Jing returned to Cang Jing, and what belonged to Cang Ling returned to Cang Ling.
The two sisters were separated at last.
Cang Jing’s face regained its rosiness at a visible rate.
The pallor faded, the purple retreated, replaced by a healthy glow. Her breath steadied, her eyes cleared, and she seemed like a withered tree revived by spring, bursting with life once more.
The two sisters looked at each other, their gazes quite complex.
There was joy at reuniting after a long separation, relief at surviving a disaster, and a strange feeling.
“What is it?” Jiang Huai asked worriedly, not knowing what had happened.
Then Cang Jing and Cang Ling simultaneously reached out, their fingertips touching.
The moment their fingertips made contact, a brilliant light flared.
Light surged from their fingers, enveloping them both, forming a huge cocoon of light.
After the light, a complete Yellow Dragon appeared in their place, bearing the features of both Cang Jing and Cang Ling, with identical bodies.
Then they separated.
The light dissipated, and the two reappeared.
Then they merged into one again.
This repeated, several times.
A Yellow Dragon with uncoordinated movements was born.
Her left leg stepped forward, but her right leg didn’t follow. Her right hand lifted, but her left hand hung by her side. She staggered two steps, her left leg tripping over her right leg, and she fell flat on her face.
With a thud, she hit the ground.
That Yellow Dragon lay on the ground, muttering to herself, her voice tinged with some disdain:
“You’re so clumsy, Cang Ling.”
“Sis, how can you blame me for this?”
As soon as she finished speaking, they turned into streams of light and separated again.
Cang Jing and Cang Ling reappeared, each standing on one side, panting, their cheeks flushed.
Jiang Huai asked: “Are you two separated now?”
‘All that merging and separating… Was it for nothing?’
Cang Ling nodded firmly, her amber eyes full of serious light:
“Yes! We’re already separated!”
“When we merged just now, our memories connected.”
Her gaze drifted, hinting:
“You know what I mean, right?”
At least the memories before that point—the two had basically fully connected.
Including the marriage memories in the secret realm, that night in the bridal chamber, that night’s candlelight, that night’s…
Jiang Huai went “Oh,” pretending not to understand, and turned to face the strange tree.
“Small Yin-Yang Body…”
The strange tree trembled, its black crystals clinking against each other, making an eerie sound like wind chimes:
“Do you really think what you’re doing is right?”
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