GD Ch. 35 Part 1

Chapter 35: Why Are You So Unrepentant?

Changying spoke with such seriousness that there was not the slightest hint of jest.

Zhuyou lowered her eyes to look at her, thinking that bringing a dragon along was more troublesome than bringing a peafowl. That peafowl, at least, had a mouth that knew how to say pleasing words. She had initially wanted to glare at Changying upon hearing her words, but after some thought, she decided to look away, unwilling to be angered by her.

Changying’s eyes showed a hint of confusion. She replied, “Did I say something wrong?”

“You have a mouth, so why can’t you say something nice?” Zhuyou clicked her tongue, but just as she spoke, she suddenly felt her spiritual energy, which had been searching for celestial aura in the mountains, being obstructed. Her brow furrowed slightly, and she quickly withdrew her energy.

“What do you want to hear?” Changying asked seriously. Yet, with her head slightly tilted up, she looked unexpectedly obedient.

Zhuyou had a fondness for well-behaved young girls. As she retracted her spiritual energy, she found the time to say, “Learn from Hanzhu—she has a sweet tongue.”

But as soon as she said this, Changying’s expression darkened. Her small face immediately turned stormy, and her pale lips pressed into a thin line. A trace of grievance flickered in her eyes—it was clear that she truly did not get along with Hanzhu.

If this dragon had existed in ancient times, with such an aura of menace, she might have been able to make a name for herself as a war deity.

Changying’s golden eyes flickered as she cast a cold glance at Zhuyou. “I won’t learn from her. She doesn’t have the proper demeanor of a servant.”

Zhuyou choked on her words. Luckily, she could no longer see clearly, or else, if she had witnessed the dragon’s cold and sharp expression, she might have been even more infuriated—perhaps to the point of sewing that mouth shut. With a flick of her fingers, the wisp of gray smoke that had earlier seeped into the ground suddenly rose from the snow, coiling around her fingertips before disappearing in an instant.

“You even dare to criticize the people around me now?” Zhuyou’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Changying remained silent, blinking once before lowering her gaze, retracting some of the indifference surrounding her.

Zhuyou took this as a sign of understanding and turned her head slightly, her brow still furrowed. She lifted her chin toward the distant, snow-capped mountains, where her spiritual energy had been blocked. Whatever had the power to obstruct her must not be easily dealt with.

There was definitely someone up there.

“Let’s go.” She reached out and grabbed Changying’s shoulder, lifting the small dragon up.

Changying was caught off guard, suddenly hoisted into the air. Instinctively, she grabbed onto Zhuyou’s sleeve, which dangled before her eyes, her thin arms flailing twice. It almost seemed like she was trying to cling to the one carrying her, as if afraid of falling.

But Zhuyou knew better. This dragon had no fear of falling—if anything, she would rather see others shatter into pieces instead. She was merely indulging in the warmth of Zhuyou’s body. Though she appeared delicate and weak, she was, in truth, heartless—clearly unfit for the path of the immortals.

Zhuyou took to the air, and the fierce mountain winds obediently surged up to greet her, as if a pair of icy hands were lifting her into the sky. In the blink of an eye, she had soared a hundred zhang above the ground with Changying in tow. Below them, everything was blanketed in ice and snow—if an ordinary person were to fall, they would surely lose their life.

Yet, Changying did not tremble in Zhuyou’s grasp. Her breathing remained steady, still as faint as a thread.

The sky was filled with raging winds and biting snow, but only Zhuyou’s body retained a trace of warmth. She instinctively pulled Changying a little closer—not out of kindness, but to avoid having the dragon hold a grudge if she got too cold.

But Changying would not have held a grudge. She understood joy now, but she had yet to comprehend sorrow. Her expression remained as cold and detached as ever. She stretched out both hands and wrapped them around Zhuyou’s waist, clinging to her snugly.

Zhuyou allowed it. This little dragon hardly weighed anything—since breaking out of her shell, she had never eaten meat, surviving solely on spiritual energy. Carrying her required no effort at all. At this moment, she felt no heavier than a floating feather—just a little too cold for comfort.

Changying did not hold on too tightly. Suddenly, her body dipped downward, startling Zhuyou, who quickly lifted her back up.

Once hoisted higher, Changying immediately clung to Zhuyou’s neck, even resting her sharp, bony chin on her shoulder. That chin, lacking in flesh, jabbed into her shoulder uncomfortably.

As if that weren’t enough, the dragon even moved slightly, and before long, a cold breath landed near Zhuyou’s ear.

Zhuyou had no idea why the dragon was breathing near her ear. Was she… acting spoiled? If so, this dragon certainly had a strange way of doing it.

But Changying was not acting spoiled. Instead, in a stiff, awkward manner, she said coldly into Zhuyou’s ear, “With a flap of your wings, you could ascend straight to the clouds… no one in the Three Realms could match you.”

The words bore a resemblance to Hanzhu’s flattery, but unlike Hanzhu’s honeyed tone, Changying’s delivery was so indifferent it felt almost perfunctory.

Zhuyou nearly slipped off the clouds. “You’re learning already?”

“You treat Hanzhu well because she often says things like this, don’t you?” Changying paused slightly before continuing in a detached tone. “I… can say them too.”

Zhuyou mulled over her words and suddenly felt something was off.

This was a serious issue. After all, she had never revealed her true form before this dragon. Her eyes narrowed as she questioned, “You can see my true form?”

Changying fell silent. As they neared the snowy peaks in the distance, she finally responded weakly, “Not very clearly. There’s a shroud of gray mist—only glimpses of your wing tips and a tail feather, which seems to be stained black.”

Zhuyou’s expression darkened. She studied the outline of the distant snow-covered peaks and flew toward them.

***

The Shenhua Mountain range was riddled with deep ravines. In places where the snow had not filled the cracks, the exposed earth was as dark as if the mountain itself had been torn apart.

She had no idea how many mortal cultivators had ventured into the mountains this time, but along the way, she had yet to see a single person. Perhaps she was just too blind to notice.

The closer they got to the summit, the louder the wind roared. The icy gusts rushing toward them felt like an invisible hand trying to shove them backward.

Perhaps due to the abundant spiritual energy within Shenhua Mountain, even the raging winds carried traces of mystical power. It was as if someone was manipulating them from the shadows, trying to prevent intruders from climbing higher.

Was there some untouchable treasure hidden within the mountain? Zhuyou wondered.

The stronger the wind, the more suspicious she became. She had no idea what was lurking within the mountain.

She pressed a hand against Changying’s back. The mist-like sleeves of her robes billowed in the wind, flapping noisily.

Changying remained motionless, obediently nestled against her.

Zhuyou swept a hand through the air, instantly splitting the incoming gusts apart. The biting mountain wind scattered as if torn asunder. She smirked softly. Seeing that the snow-laden gales were surging back again, she leaped forward, stepping on the mountain mist as she shot toward the snowy peak.

The raging winds howled behind her like a furious, awakening lion, growling ceaselessly in midair—

Someone was indeed controlling them.

But before Zhuyou could reach the summit, the dark, overcast sky suddenly lit up—not with sunlight, but something even brighter.

The light pouring down from the heavens was scorching, searing even Zhuyou, who was born of fire. She instinctively turned to look at the dragon clinging to her neck. To her surprise, instead of feeling discomfort, Changying seemed to revel in it, her icy golden eyes narrowing in pleasure. This was—

Divine light.

Zhuyou’s expression changed abruptly. When she turned around, she realized that the wisp of divine consciousness she had sent out was already ten miles away. Her face darkened instantly as she pivoted. She didn’t know who was standing atop the snowy peak, but it was clear that the divine radiance was targeting that fragment of the Devil Lord’s soul. If anything happened to it, she would have to find a way to retrieve it.

The brightness on the horizon grew even more intense, like flames tempered in fire. When it fell upon her, it was as if she were being scalded by boiling water.

Zhuyou furrowed her delicate brows. The mist shrouding her vision thickened, and at this rate, she would soon be unable to make out even a silhouette.

Along with that blinding radiance came a faint, indistinct chanting—like several Buddhas reciting scriptures beside her ears, irritating and grating.

She swiftly retreated. The wind lifted her silver-white hair in front of her face, obstructing most of her vision. When she hastily raised her head, she glimpsed a pointed spire emerging faintly from the dazzling light.

A tower.

The tower was suspended in the sky. Though it seemed to be right before her, it was actually far away on the celestial dome, like how mortals perceive the moon—appearing close, yet remaining distant.

Changying, who had been clinging motionless to her neck, suddenly began to tremble. Even the fingers resting against her nape twitched.

The neck was a vital point. Zhuyou quickly grasped Changying’s hand and held it tightly in her palm. Then, she merged her consciousness with the wisp she had sent out earlier, so she could see what that fool was doing.

***

In the snowy forest ten miles away, that fool was running frantically, pursued closely by a demon beast.

Panting heavily, he suddenly recoiled as the light filtering through the trees seared his hand. He panicked and looked up, only to be startled by the blinding golden radiance beyond the forest, causing him to slow his steps.

But the demon beast chasing him did not stop—on the contrary, it howled even more ferociously.

The fool had no idea why this light was burning him. He gazed upward in bewilderment, and as the brilliant light scattered through the forest, it landed on his pale face—instantly scorching it.

He hurriedly lifted his hand and, to his horror, found it covered in blood. His bloodstained fingertips trembled slightly.

His mouth hung half open, his teeth chattering uncontrollably as he shivered. The parts of his face scorched by the divine radiance had turned black and charred, with torn flesh exposing the dark bones beneath.

Other people’s bones were white, but his were pitch-black, as if coated in charcoal dust.

He continued to flee desperately. When he spotted a cave in the distance, his eyes lit up, and he quickened his pace despite his ragged breath.

However, the light streaming into the snowy forest grew denser, its iridescent gleam flickering across the snow. Strangely, while the light did not melt the snow, it had burned his face.

Fear was the only thing left in his eyes. Dodging the scattered rays, he bolted toward the pitch-dark cave—just a few more steps!