GD Ch. 34

Chapter 34: What If They Can’t Take It?

Changying’s gaze was icy, her eyes fixed unwaveringly on the devil before her, her face clearly conveying one message: Coax me.

Even though she had grown a bit taller, she was still just a child, her voice soft and tender. Despite her cold expression, it oddly resembled a pout.

She’s much cuter in human form, Zhuyou thought to herself. In her dragon form, Changying would only glare at people with those golden eyes, her scales sharp as blades, making her impossible to hold or cuddle.

Now, seeing Changying gripping her hand with a look that said she wouldn’t let go until she was comforted, Zhuyou had no choice but to reach out and gently tap her forehead with a finger.

Her warm, pale index finger pressed against the child’s forehead, which felt as cold as ice.

Only then did Changying release her grip, standing obediently to the side, silently staring down at the fool crawling on the ground like a dog. There was not a trace of pity in her eyes. It seemed she was born without the capacity for compassion, unlike other immortals who deliberately followed rules. She was, perhaps, a bit spoiled.

Zhuyou didn’t bend down. With a mere flick of her fingers, the fool on the ground, who was on all fours, was suddenly lifted into the air like a paper kite on a string, pulled toward her.

The fool’s eyes widened in fear as he felt his body go weightless, now suspended in the air. He struggled slightly, a hint of terror in his eyes, but he didn’t dare struggle too much, afraid of being thrown away. There was no trace of the Devil Lord in him—no dignity, no strength, just a cowardly, pitiful wretch.

Yet, he was indeed the reincarnation of the Devil Lord’s soul.

Zhuyou sneered inwardly, gripping his collar tightly as she said, “If you behave, I’ll take you into Shenhua Mountain. Whether you can avenge yourself will depend on your own fate.”

Hearing this, the fool stopped struggling, his arms hanging limply in front of him, his hands slowly clenching into fists.

Satisfied, Zhuyou glanced at Changying, only to catch a flicker of annoyance in her eyes—whether it was directed at her or the fool, she couldn’t tell. For someone with such a rebellious streak, it was strange that she was a divine offspring.

Before Zhuyou could even beckon her, Changying had already stepped forward. Her expression was cold, almost wooden, her lips slightly pursed, radiating displeasure.

Changying’s tightly pressed lips parted as she spoke, her face still cold, “He has legs, doesn’t he? Why do you need to carry him?”

The implication was clear: if he has legs, why can’t he walk on his own?

So, she’s annoyed with the fool, Zhuyou thought, amused by the childlike tantrum, though it was anything but ordinary. But she had no intention of indulging the dragon. “You have legs too, yet I carried you here,” she retorted.

As soon as the words left her mouth, Changying averted her gaze, but her hands betrayed her. She pinched Zhuyou’s sleeve with two fingers, gripping it tightly, her fingertips turning white from the pressure.

Zhuyou thought the dragon had conceded, but in the blink of an eye, the child transformed into a dragon—not the earth-shaking kind, but a slender, snake-like creature, more akin to a thin rope than a majestic beast.

This black dragon looked more like a snake, its forked horns not even properly placed on its head. With a flick of its tail, it coiled around Zhuyou’s arm, climbing up to her shoulder.

Zhuyou watched curiously as the dragon draped itself over her shoulder, half of its body hanging down, its cold dragon eyes meeting hers.

Changying stared at her, wordlessly proving that she no longer needed to be carried.

Zhuyou was speechless. This dragon had become both clingy and clever. When she had first hatched, she had hidden in the rafters, too scared to face anyone. Now, she was wrapping herself around Zhuyou like a possessive child. Zhuyou reached up to pat Changying’s head, asking, “Where are your horns?”

Changying didn’t respond, likely having hidden them.

Zhuyou had thought the dragon didn’t know how to conceal her horns, but apparently, she did.

It was strange, though. Dragons were supposed to have four legs, but this black dragon didn’t even have claws, only managing to grow a pair of tender horns after so long.

Perhaps it was due to the body-reforming technique she had used, though Zhuyou had no idea where the dragon had learned such a thing.

Narrowing her eyes, Zhuyou flicked Changying’s head with a finger and then soared toward the icy pool at the back of the mountain.

The fool, still dangling in the air, turned pale as he watched a living person transform into a black snake. Before he could even struggle, his feet left the ground.

The snow-covered pine trees passed beneath them in an instant, and the winding valley stretched out like a dragon soaring to the heavens.

Trembling with fear, the fool didn’t dare struggle, terrified of falling to his death.

***

At the icy pool, several disciples emerged from the water, shivering from the cold. Just as they wiped the water from their faces, a loud splash echoed, and the icy water sprayed onto them once more.

Startled, the disciples looked down to see two figures plunging into the water, sinking so quickly that they disappeared before anyone could get a good look at them.

No one knew where the two had come from—it was as if they had appeared out of thin air, sending waves crashing half a zhang high, like a sudden storm in the sea.

An old cultivator, his beard soaked, snapped out of his daze, his face turning pale. “It’s too late! The mountain gate is closing! Come back!”

But the two had already submerged, and the waves they had created had settled.

The old cultivator bent over anxiously, turning to ask, “Which peak do those two belong to? They shouldn’t have gone in at this time—it’s suicide! What are we going to do?”

The disciples exchanged uneasy glances, but no one had an answer.

***

Deep in the pool, there was no light, only the sound of water flowing, like the growl of a beast.

Zhuyou left the body of the male cultivator she had possessed, dragging the fool deeper into the pool. Her silver hair floated around her, strands of it resembling silver fish.

The male cultivator, now unconscious, began to float upward, bubbles escaping from his nose.

Once free of the mortal body, Zhuyou’s vision blurred. She waved her hand, and a flame ignited on her fingertip, a fire that couldn’t be extinguished even in water.

The flame illuminated the surrounding rocks and icy walls, revealing grotesque human faces frozen within the ice. Each face was twisted in agony, as if they had died struggling against the cold.

Zhuyou didn’t know where the mountain gate was, but she followed the faint traces of spiritual energy until she found an ice wall. In the center of the wall was a fist-sized hole, from which the thinning spiritual energy seeped.

The fool in her grasp was struggling, his face contorted, veins bulging on his neck—he was drowning.

Zhuyou glanced at the hole, frowning as she quickly cast a spell to ensure the soul of the Devil Lord’s reincarnation wouldn’t drown here.

It would be a joke if the Devil Lord’s soul died by drowning.

Then, with a wave of her hand, the flame on her fingertip surged forward, her slender fingers slipping through the hole.

The hole, no larger than a fist, was slowly closing, the edges of the ice creeping inward, growing with a faint creaking sound, like a wound healing rapidly.

In moments, the sharp ice would reach Zhuyou’s wrist. Such a beautiful hand would be a shame to lose.

Changying, still draped over her shoulder, suddenly bit down on Zhuyou’s collar, her teeth gently gripping the fabric as she sent a mental message, Your hand.

Ignoring the dragon, Zhuyou let the icy edges press against her wrist. Then, a blazing fire erupted from her hand, the flames climbing up the ice wall, roaring through the water like a beast.

The entire ice wall melted, the water merging with the pool, and the hundreds of corpses trapped within floated to the surface.

For a moment, the pool resembled a sea of corpses, the bodies filling a corner of the water.

As the ice at the mountain gate melted, new crystals formed with a creak, determined to seal the entrance once more.

Zhuyou shattered the restriction with a single palm strike, dragging the fool through the gate while using her other hand to hold Changying tightly, ensuring the little dragon wouldn’t be swept away by the current.

Such a small dragon would be impossible to find if lost, like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Once past the gate, she surged upward, water spraying everywhere as she tossed the fool onto the shore.

The fool, soaked and shivering, his face and hands red from the cold, curled up on the ground, unable to move. Zhuyou, however, remained dry, though her vision was still blurred, a thin haze clouding her sight.

She glanced at the fool, then nudged him with her black embroidered shoe, saying coldly, “You don’t need to follow me anymore.”

The fool curled up tighter in the snow, trembling with fear.

Zhuyou couldn’t tell if he was lying down or crouching, so she added, “Do you plan to stay here and freeze to death? If you don’t seek your own opportunities, how will you ever avenge yourself? I brought you into the mountain, not to let you die here.”

A flicker of rage crossed the fool’s face, hidden in the crook of his arm, his breathing heavy and rapid. After a moment, he struggled to his feet and ran off without a word, one leg stiff from the cold, causing him to limp.

Changying slowly slid down from Zhuyou’s shoulder, transforming back into human form as she landed. Her face was pale, her lips pressed together in a stubborn pout as she reached out to cling to Zhuyou’s arm.

Zhuyou shook her arm, her frustration growing as her vision failed her. “Don’t get in my way.”

“What are you planning to do?” Changying tilted her head slightly, her voice soft but curious.

“Even if you ask, I might not answer,” Zhuyou replied, not in the mood to explain things to a child who likely wouldn’t understand anyway. She pressed a finger against Changying’s forehead, her fingertip warm, as if it had just been dipped in a hot spring.

Changying didn’t retreat, not even half a step. Instead, she tightened her grip on Zhuyou’s arm, her eyes narrowing slightly, like a demon beast basking in warmth and contentment.

Unable to see clearly, Zhuyou only noticed that Changying’s breathing had become slower and more relaxed, as if she were thoroughly enjoying herself.

How could she be so comfortable?

Zhuyou bent down, leaning closer until her nose was almost touching Changying’s face. Her innocent-looking eyes narrowed slightly as she finally managed to make out Changying’s expression.

Though this dragon was strange in many ways, often wearing a cold, expressionless face and radiating a fierce aura when displeased, the way she clung to Zhuyou’s arm with her eyes half-closed made her look both delicate and obedient.

Though Zhuyou’s heart softened a little, she still pushed Changying away and turned to survey the area of Shenhua Mountain.

Everywhere she looked, there was ice. The sky was heavy with dark clouds, not a single ray of sunlight breaking through. Snow fell in thick sheets, and the wind howled like a beast.

This place was as desolate as the snowy plains outside Huacheng Sect, yet it was a place countless mortal cultivators desperately sought to enter. The spiritual energy here was abundant, but there was no trace of any immortal beings.

Not only were there no signs of immortals, but Zhuyou also couldn’t detect any demonic energy. She had no idea how the rumor that Shenhua Mountain housed a demon had spread.

If there were a demon here, she would have sensed it.

She formed a hand seal, splitting off a strand of her consciousness to follow the fool who had run into the snowy forest, ensuring she wouldn’t lose track of him.

“Why are you splitting your consciousness again?” Changying stood beside her, still clinging to her arm, her small face filled with discontent.

Zhuyou thought to herself that it was just a strand of consciousness—why was this dragon acting like her wife had been stolen? Her little face looked so fierce.

Changying tilted her head back, her golden eyes cold and unfeeling. No matter how fiercely she tried to act, her voice remained soft and tender. “What’s so good about that fool?”

Zhuyou couldn’t help but detect a hint of resentment in the little dragon’s words. She stifled a laugh but didn’t respond, instead closing her eyes slowly. Her consciousness flew through the snowstorm, and when it finally attached itself to the fool’s back, she opened her eyes again—she had found him.

“I don’t think he’s good,” she finally replied, seeing how persistent Changying was.

“If you want something from him, I’ll give it to you if I have it,” Changying said, her childish face serious and earnest.

“I want his soul,” Zhuyou said, lowering her gaze, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

When she smiled, she looked as pure and radiant as the moon, completely at odds with the image of a devil.

Changying was momentarily stunned, her hand clutching the black fabric of her robe, her eyes flickering with uncertainty.

Zhuyou wasn’t sure if this dragon was truly naive or just pretending to be. “How are you going to give me his soul?”

Changying had no answer.

“I brought him here not to let him find opportunities. He doesn’t need those things,” Zhuyou said, lifting her gaze.

“But if he encounters an opportunity, will you stop him?” Changying suddenly asked.

“An opportunity? Shenhua Mountain is full of treasures, but it’s up to the mortals to fight for them. Only those who can seize them can call it an opportunity,” Zhuyou said, stepping forward and heading toward the snowy forest where the fool had gone. Her black embroidered shoes didn’t sink into the snow at all, leaving no footprints behind.

“If he can’t get it, what should it be called?” Changying asked, following closely behind, her eyes fixed on the gray gauze sleeve fluttering in the wind, clearly wanting to grab hold of it.

Zhuyou paused and turned to look at her. “If he can’t get it, then it’s someone else’s opportunity.”

Changying blinked, as if she understood.

Seeing her so obedient, the other half of Zhuyou’s heart softened as well. Remembering the look on Changying’s face earlier, as if her wife had been stolen, Zhuyou couldn’t help but speak earnestly. “It’s like this: the one you can marry is your wife. The one you can’t marry is someone else’s wife. Understand?”

She hadn’t really taught Changying much before, and she wasn’t sure if saying these things would make the child grow even more twisted.

“I understand,” Changying said, finally reaching out to grab the fluttering sleeve. The fabric was as thin as mist, as if it would drift away like smoke if she let go.

Suddenly, the sound of demon beasts digging at the ground came from the snowy forest, accompanied by a faint scent of blood.

The blood wasn’t the fool’s—Zhuyou’s strand of consciousness was closely attached to him, keeping a tight watch.

What surprised her was that the fool had been in Shenhua Mountain for half an hour now, yet he hadn’t drawn out the group of immortals. Could it be that she was wrong, and the Devil-Suppressing Tower wasn’t in the mountain after all?

Zhuyou frowned. The sound of the demon beasts digging grew closer, accompanied by heavy panting, as if they were starving. She didn’t turn around, but she felt Changying tighten her grip on her arm.

A terrifying pressure descended like a net, forcing her knees to weaken. Her ears rang, and she thought she heard the roar of a dragon.

Zhuyou didn’t know what had gotten into Changying. She pulled her arm free and instead hooked it around Changying’s neck, about to scold her when the dragon, who had been standing firmly in place, suddenly went limp, leaning into her as if she had no bones.

She was delicate, but this was a bit too deliberate.

Changying leaned into her, her messy hair revealing two faint swirls at the crown of her head.

Stubborn and quick to anger, it wasn’t surprising that she would suddenly act out like this.

Changying pressed close to her, tilting her head up to look at her. Her golden eyes were still, like stagnant water, cold and unfeeling.

“Don’t let anyone hear your screeching,” Zhuyou said, worried that the group of immortals would come looking for the dragon instead of the Devil Lord’s soul.

Changying frowned, displeased. “It’s a dragon’s roar.”

Zhuyou didn’t want to argue with her. She turned her head, listening to the sounds behind her, only to realize that the demon beasts had run off.

Probably scared away by the dragon’s roar.

Had the little dragon been protecting her just now?

She reached out, placing her hand on Changying’s head, ruffling her hair before pushing her away slightly. She formed another hand seal, searching for any traces of immortal energy in Shenhua Mountain.

A wisp of gray smoke rose from her palm, and with a flick of her finger, it split into several strands. The dark gray smoke sank into the snow, spreading out in all directions.

Zhuyou’s vision grew increasingly blurry, the toxic mist in her eyes becoming harder to suppress.

“What’s wrong with your eyes?” Changying reached up, her round fingertips almost touching the corner of Zhuyou’s eye.

Zhuyou tilted her head back slightly, calmly grasping Changying’s wrist. “That’s not something you should ask.”

“But you can’t see clearly,” Changying said, her voice tinged with concern.

Zhuyou’s gaze was unfocused, her eyes devoid of warmth. “And how do you know I can’t see clearly?” With that, she followed the strand of consciousness attached to the fool, stepping forward but keeping her distance, not wanting to get dragged into the Devil-Suppressing Tower.

Changying followed behind, swaying unsteadily as if her body truly was weak. Her eyes lifted, staring intently at the black jade ornaments dangling from Zhuyou’s hair. “When you glare at me, there’s no fierceness in your eyes. Isn’t that because you can’t see clearly?”