GD Ch. 58 Part 1

Chapter 58: Would You Come With Me?

You don’t recognize me?

“Anymore”?

Zhuyou’s heart clenched suddenly. She stared at the tall woman in black descending from the sky, a name rising to her lips—yet she could not bring herself to say it.

A chill spread from the tip of her heart, stirred by that single drop of heart’s blood.

She held her breath abruptly, her gaze seemingly nailed in place, unable to look away.

Since their farewell a century ago, the heart’s blood she had exchanged had remained still, as if it had permanently fallen into slumber. Yet now, it surged violently at the tip of her heart, sending a numbing sensation through her chest.

She had imagined countless scenarios of meeting Changying again—but never like this.

Why is it Changying? How could it be Changying?

When she first saw her in Cold Eye, Zhuyou had already suspected something. The woman felt eerily familiar, yet she refused to believe it.

Over the past hundred years, she had rarely thought of Changying’s face. At first, she would still recall it now and then—after all, this was the dragon she had personally hatched and raised, not to mention the heart’s blood she once possessed still lay within Changying. But later, she barely thought of her at all.

Now that she did, in her memories, Changying was still a small and fragile child. Though always expressionless, neither joyful nor sorrowful, she used to cling to Zhuyou endlessly, never letting go of her hand, refusing even a moment of separation.

Back then, Changying had been so weak, so pitiful—she had looked as if she might stop breathing at any moment. It was only after Zhuyou exchanged her heart’s blood with her that she improved somewhat, at least enough to stop burrowing into Zhuyou every time she felt cold.

A century ago, when they parted, Changying had barely reached her shoulder. Now, she was half a head taller. Zhuyou still remembered taking Changying to the Mortal Realm back then, gently coaxing her to sleep, telling her that children who didn’t sleep enough would never grow tall.

And now? The dragon had truly grown taller than her. Tall and slender, with not a trace of the child she had once been.

She had dug her own grave with those words, and it hurt.

Zhuyou couldn’t reconcile the child in her memory with the woman standing before her. One had been fragile and spoiled, the other was powerful and reserved.

The difference was too vast.

This past century had felt endless, yet now, standing before Changying, it seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye. It was as if she had merely closed her eyes for a moment, and in that instant, the little one had grown overnight, like a sapling forced to shoot up unnaturally fast.

And she had grown beautiful. Delicate, yet not overly striking, with an air of indifference as if nothing could touch her heart. This aloofness bore some resemblance to her childhood self—yet it was now colder, more unyielding.

Zhuyou said nothing. A flicker of hesitation rose in her chest—she still didn’t want to acknowledge that the woman before her was truly Changying. It was difficult to convince herself that the child she could once subdue with a single hand had now reached a level of cultivation she could no longer fathom.

For others, a hundred years might bring only a hundred years of growth in their cultivation. But this dragon was different—it was as if she had been reborn entirely.

Zhuyou couldn’t help but wonder—was this the strength Changying should have always possessed? The power she had before she perished, before she was ever reborn into this world?

Changying… who exactly was she?

Beneath them, the ocean stretched like ink spilled from the heavens, merging seamlessly with the night. Moonlight and starlight reflected on its surface, blurring the boundary between sky and sea, making it seem as if one step could lead directly to the heavens.

In this moment, the distance between all things in the Three Realms felt infinitesimal.

Yet Zhuyou knew, no matter how close she and Changying stood now, they could never return to the past.

Both were divine offspring—yet Changying had come from the Nine Heavens, while Zhuyou had long since fallen into the Devil Realm, beyond redemption. If not for desperate circumstances, she would still be hiding in the devil’s domain now.

God and devil—two opposing forces. They should never have crossed paths.

But a hundred years ago, on a mere whim, she had taken that dragon egg back to the Devil Realm.

As Changying descended, the moonlight cast a pale glow over her face, making her already cold complexion even more stark. Her long black hair streamed behind her, like dark seaweed swaying in the current. Her sharp, icy gaze bore into Zhuyou, waiting for an answer.

She did not press further. Zhuyou, too, remained silent.

A thousand words clogged Zhuyou’s throat, but she did not know where to begin.

Did she recognize her?

Of course, she did.

Even if she hadn’t at first, she understood now.

Changying landed lightly upon the sea, standing twenty feet away. Her inky black hair, which had danced in the wind, settled smoothly over her shoulders and back. Each strand still as obedient as in childhood.

She tapped her toe against the water, golden eyes lifting ever so slightly—calm, indifferent, betraying no emotion.

Changying, with that distant, heartless expression, looked as if she had forgotten all that had passed between them a century ago. Yet she had been the one to ask first—

“You don’t recognize me anymore?”

Zhuyou did not answer. Instead, she countered, “You truly weren’t sent by the Heavenly Emperor?” She deliberately changed the subject, unwilling to speak of anything sentimental with this dragon.

A hundred years ago, she could speak to her without hesitation. Now, she could not.

When Changying’s gaze fell upon her, Zhuyou felt an unbearable cold, as if it might pierce through her skin. She wanted to look away—

But she did not. She forced herself to meet Changying’s gaze, feigning composure.

No one would dare meet Changying’s eyes now. This dragon was too cold, too distant. Even more so than the Heavenly Emperor of the Nine Heavens—more like an impartial god, untouched by anger or joy, dividing right and wrong with unwavering clarity.

“I was not,” Changying answered plainly. No hesitation, no deceit.

The breath caught in Zhuyou’s throat neither swallowed nor exhaled. Her brows remained furrowed. She couldn’t understand Changying’s motives, nor could she guess what she was thinking.

“Then why are you here? Why do you seek the sacred herb?” she asked bluntly. She didn’t expect an answer. After a hundred years apart, how could she expect Changying to obey her as she once had?

Yet Changying stopped in place, not stepping forward. She concealed her aura entirely, as if afraid of startling Zhuyou.

That… carefulness.

“I knew you were searching for the sacred herb. So I came here to wait for you,” Changying said quietly, with unexpected honesty.

Zhuyou blinked in surprise. A thought struck her. “Cold Eye—was it you who opened it?”

Otherwise, how could everything have aligned so perfectly?

Changying did not nod, but she admitted it with just one word, “Yes.”

Zhuyou watched the dragon answering her so seriously, and for a moment, it felt as though she had returned to a hundred years ago.

As if this dragon never saw her as a devil at all.

She grew even more uncertain—she could no longer measure Changying’s thoughts with the heart of a child.

“But how did you open Cold Eye?” Zhuyou narrowed her eyes, full of suspicion. She had searched for this place for over two hundred years, yet this dragon had unlocked it with no warning?

Was this not supposed to be a hidden land of the Three Realms? How could she open it so effortlessly?

“I wanted to open it. So I did.” Changying’s voice was calm, as if stating a simple truth.

Zhuyou’s heart pounded.

Wanted to open it… so she did?

She had heard that a Divine Venerable had returned to the Heavenly Palace, but she had never known where this Divine Venerable had come from or what they looked like.

This was not the fault of the Three Realms. The Divine Venerable had reached the pinnacle of the Nine Heavens, and no matter who in the Three Realms mentioned her name, she would know. No one dared to speak of her recklessly—nor even think too much about her.

At the peak of the Nine Heavens, it was unlikely that another person of such caliber could be found within the Three Realms.

Could it be that the long-absent Divine Venerable of the Nine Heavens was actually Changying? If so, when had she returned to the heavens? Was it right after that battle a hundred years ago?

How utterly absurd.

Yet Zhuyou did not dare to make a conclusion. Changying had yet to fully release her oppressive power; as long as she restrained it, as long as she did not completely reveal her cultivation, Zhuyou would not acknowledge it.

“The Heavenly Emperor favors you this much?” she asked slowly.

Changying neither admitted nor denied it, simply stating, “He had no other choice.” Her demeanor was calm and reserved, not at all like someone who had come to provoke or make things difficult.

Zhuyou felt somewhat uncomfortable. This dragon had grown up. She no longer spoke as she had in childhood, no longer had that soft and endearing tone. Now, her voice was cold and distant—nothing like the child she once was.

Zhuyou frowned. “Are you implying that you can influence the Heavenly Emperor’s decisions?”

Changying remained silent, her gaze unwavering, tacitly confirming it.

In the Nine Heavens, who else could influence the Heavenly Emperor’s decisions? If anyone could, it could only be the Divine Venerable of the Nine Heavens.

Zhuyou was abruptly stunned. She had not expected this dragon to put her in such an awkward position.

Regret—intense regret surged through her. She should never have taken that dragon egg, and she most certainly should not have exchanged heart’s blood with the dragon that hatched from it.

No wonder, after that battle, she had been on the verge of death yet recovered within days—her cultivation even advancing further. Afterward, it was as if she had received the aid of the Heavenly Dao itself, finally breaking through her previous limits.

Although she still could not stand on equal footing with the former Devil Lord, her cultivation had already surpassed that of most celestial and devil beings within the Three Realms.

From birth, she had been extraordinarily gifted, advancing in cultivation far faster than ordinary celestials. Even when her celestial veins and bones had been extracted, it had not stopped her path of cultivation.

But after exchanging heart’s blood with this dragon, she had progressed like a meteor chasing the moon, her cultivation soaring day by day.