GD Ch. 38 Part 1

Chapter 38: Are You Afraid?

“So you’re quite impressive, huh.” Zhuyou flicked away the chilly dragon claw and reached out to pinch Changying’s cheek, wondering how such a small mouth could produce such a loud voice.

Changying leaned back, seemingly trying to avoid her touch, but after just a slight retreat, she eagerly leaned forward again. The killing intent in her eyes faded slightly, leaving her looking pitiful and obedient.

It was obviously an act. Just a moment ago, she had been strutting around like a tiger, but the moment the hall doors closed, she suddenly became pitiful.

She was like a bubble in water—looking all puffed up, but the moment you poked it, it would pop.

Zhuyou was used to this dragon’s theatrics and couldn’t quite figure out what was going on in that little head of hers, so she simply ignored it. With a sweep of her gauzy sleeve, she used her spiritual power to lift Hanzhu, who had collapsed by the door.

Hanzhu had only fainted for a short while before being jostled awake. Her eyes snapped open, and she hurriedly scrambled to her feet, trembling, not daring to look at the dragon sitting beside her mistress.

This dragon was truly strange—not someone she could afford to provoke. But if she couldn’t provoke her, then at least she could avoid her.

The three figures outside seemed to have walked away. Hanzhu listened for a while before asking, “Why did you… just hand over the Devil Lord’s hun soul like that?”

It had taken such great effort to retrieve it, yet she had given it away so easily. Hanzhu was indignant, thinking that all their effort had been for nothing.

“I gave it to them.” Zhuyou nodded slightly, her expression calm, as if what she had just thrown away was not the Devil Lord’s hun soul, but some worthless junk. She pressed a hand against her temple, sounding irritated. “If I didn’t, those three devils would have stood there all night, and Changying would’ve started howling again.”

Sitting beside her, Changying immediately turned to look at her, frowning deeply and pursing her lips in obvious displeasure.

Zhuyou, however, didn’t care and remained perfectly composed. “All I need is for the Devil Lord to wake up. It doesn’t matter whose hands that hun soul is in—they wouldn’t dare harm him. Besides, sooner or later, they’ll come begging me again.” She bent her arm on the carved armrest, propping her chin up. “Now, only the last hun soul remains.”

“Does Mistress know where it is now?” Hanzhu asked cautiously.

Zhuyou furrowed her brows slightly. “No. Although the last fragment has entered the cycle of reincarnation, it isn’t in the human realm, nor in the devil’s domain. I have no idea where it was reborn. Even divination yields no results.”

Hanzhu’s pupils trembled slightly. She swallowed and hesitated before saying in a shaky voice, “Could it have… been reborn in the Heavenly Realm?”

“Impossible.” Zhuyou touched the corner of her eye, where her phoenix mark was. “A devil reincarnating as an immortal? Does that sound reasonable to you?”

Of course not. Besides, the heavens would never allow a Devil Lord’s hun soul to ascend to the Nine Heavens. The Heavenly Realm could not be tainted by filth. The Devil Lord carried immense sins and had little fortune—no matter how many lifetimes he cultivated, it was unlikely he could ever become an immortal.

Hanzhu quickly lowered her gaze. “I was just guessing, Mistress. Please don’t take it seriously.” She said that, but deep down, she still felt uneasy. What if they never found the last hun soul?

Zhuyou smirked. “If I took even your words seriously, I’d have wasted these past centuries.” She paused, then added, “Besides, cases of immortals missing thei hun soul are extremely rare. Even Changying is only missing parts of her po soul.”

Hanzhu glanced at Changying—just a brief look, not daring to linger.

Changying sat upright, looking both obedient and beautiful. Silent like this, she almost seemed like a clay figurine. But how could a clay figurine turn into a dragon? How could a clay figurine let out a roar that nearly cost people their lives?

Zhuyou lowered her eyes and spoke slowly, “Those missing their po soul may not understand joy, anger, sorrow, or fear. They may lack love and desire.” She paused briefly before continuing, “Yet, even if someone is missing all seven po souls, they can still be intelligent. But if their hun soul is incomplete, they will be dull-witted and foolish.”

Hanzhu immediately thought of the Devil Lord’s reincarnation that she had seen in Huacheng Sect. Wasn’t he just a fool? Then she looked at Changying—though missing part of her po soul, she was cunning, constantly pushing her away from her mistress’ side.

This dragon had absolutely nothing in common with an immortal. What kind of immortal was this petty?

Zhuyou turned to look at the dragon sitting beside her, trying to detect any discomfort in Changying’s expression. But the dragon’s face remained indifferent, showing no emotion at all.

Waving her hand, Zhuyou said, “Hanzhu, go outside and don’t let anyone approach the Grand Hall.”

Hanzhu hesitated for a moment, unsure of what her mistress intended to do.

“Go,” Zhuyou urged. “Otherwise, if Changying throws a tantrum, she’ll start howling again, and you might not survive.”

It sounded almost like a mockery. Her voice was thin and light, yet the way her tone lifted at the end made it feel like a hook tugging at the heart.

Changying lifted her gaze instantly, staring at Zhuyou. Her pale complexion was like white silk, and her frail body didn’t look like it could be particularly menacing. Even when she was angry, she wasn’t all that frightening. Her pupils shrank, the golden irises suddenly narrowing into slits. A rare trace of disbelief appeared on her otherwise calm face. “Are you… planning to exchange heart’s blood with me?”

Hanzhu finally understood—exchange heart’s blood?

Zhuyou nodded. “Isn’t this what you’ve been longing for?”

Changying coughed softly, and a faint flush appeared on her pale cheeks. She had coughed her face red, and her frail shoulders trembled slightly, making her look like she was on the brink of death.

“But Mistress…” Hanzhu hesitated, unwilling to let her mistress take such a risk. Exchanging heart’s blood meant intertwining their fates—blessings and disasters, life and death, bound together. They still didn’t know much about this dragon. If something went wrong in the future…

She didn’t dare think about the worst-case scenario. In the end, she still didn’t see this dragon as one of their own.

Zhuyou waved her hand impatiently. “Just go.”

Hanzhu remained rooted in place, a struggle visible between her brows. A ridiculous thought rose in her mind—

She didn’t know why Zhuyou was so determined to exchange heart’s blood, but rather than exchanging it with that dragon, wouldn’t it be better to exchange it with her? If anything happened, she would step forward and take the fall. How could she let her most cherished great demon suffer?

Changying saw her hesitation, her irritation rising. The golden glow in her eyes darkened as she clenched her pearly white teeth, as if she wanted to chew someone to pieces.

Changying saw her hesitation, her irritation rising. The golden glow in her eyes darkened as she clenched her pearly white teeth, as if she wanted to chew someone to pieces.

Lost in thought, she instinctively reached out, placing her soft palm against Zhuyou’s wrist.

That hand was ice-cold, as if it had just been pulled out of an ice cellar. And yet, it was placed precisely on Zhuyou’s life gate.

Zhuyou didn’t push it away.

So Changying pushed her advantage, curling her five fingers to grasp Zhuyou’s wrist. The wrist was slender, just barely within her grasp. As she tightened her grip, she suddenly felt as though this was how it should be.

Since breaking out of her shell, she had desired nothing. Though she knew she wasn’t supposed to be like this, she had no idea what she was meant to do or what she should be. She felt neither resentment nor hatred, nor did she know joy or sorrow. But now, something like restlessness seemed to stir in her heart.

Yes, it seemed she did want something after all.

Zhuyou watched as this dragon sneakily reached out her hand, her small face still carrying a hint of confusion, unsure of what exactly she intended to do. So she simply raised a hand and tapped Changying’s forehead, signaling her to stop getting any closer.

Changying was once again tapped between the brows, and it was as if she had been struck at an acupoint—she snapped out of that strange daze and obediently withdrew. She pulled back her cold hand and sat properly again.

Hanzhu, who was still standing by the door, had yet to leave. She pursed her lips, stubbornly keeping her head lowered, a trace of panic in her heart. “I hope Mistress will reconsider.”

Of course Zhuyou knew what this peafowl demon was worried about. But right now, she had no way of finding that Cold Eye, no way of locating the sacred artifact that could dispel the poison mist clouding her vision. She was already at a dead end—this was her only gamble.

“Go and guard the door,” she said.

Hanzhu stiffened, then lifted her gaze to look deeply at her mistress. That silvery-white hair of hers seemed to wind itself around Hanzhu’s heart, making it impossible to let go. She pressed her lips together, then turned to open the door.

As soon as the door swung open, a tall devil standing outside was revealed.