GD Ch. 63 Part 1

Chapter 63: What Hasn’t Changed?

What hasn’t changed?

Changying was stumped by the question, momentarily at a loss for how to respond. It seemed as though nothing about her had changed, yet at the same time, everything had. A faint trace of bewilderment flickered in her usually indifferent eyes. Her gaze dropped, landing on Zhuyou’s slender wrist.

She wanted to say that from a century ago until now, her desire to be close to Zhuyou had never changed.

She didn’t know what mortals called this feeling, or how they described such emotions, but for her, it had remained constant for a hundred years.

Perhaps it was the way Changying’s gaze remained unwaveringly fixed that made Zhuyou feel a sudden tightness in her chest.

Zhuyou felt a momentary panic, but then, recalling the visions she had seen while trapped in the chaotic realm of illusions, she suppressed the strange feeling in her heart and teased, “Could it be that your clingy, childish nature hasn’t changed?”

She paused, then added, “When I was trapped in the chaotic realm earlier, were you awake the whole time?”

“Yes,” Changying admitted without hesitation. “This mirror couldn’t blind me.”

“Then why didn’t you wake me?” Zhuyou frowned. “You let me be fooled by the mirror for no reason.”

As soon as she said it, she choked on her own words.

After a hundred years, she still found it effortless to boss this dragon around, especially since the dragon always seemed so compliant.

Hearing this, the corner of Changying’s mouth twitched slightly, though her expression remained largely unchanged. It was as if she wanted to smile, but no trace of joy could be seen on her face. “I bit you, but you didn’t wake up. Instead, you trapped me in a bowl,” she said, pausing briefly before adding, “Isn’t that exactly the same as a hundred years ago?”

“It is similar,” Zhuyou admitted, her heart pounding as if struck by deer antlers. Reflecting on what she had just experienced, she felt that the Turbid Mirror was indeed a master of deception. It seemed to have combed through her mind, dredging up everything she cared about and clung to, nearly drowning her in the process.

When Changying heard her acknowledgment, the spot on her throat where a scale was missing tingled slightly, as if someone had gently stroked it, bringing her a sense of deep comfort.

“But since we both entered this place together, why did the Turbid Mirror single me out?” Zhuyou asked, suspicion lingering in her voice.

Changying answered frankly, “My heart is clear.”

Zhuyou couldn’t fathom how this dragon could claim to have a “clear heart.”

Back in the Heavenly Palace, Changying had known she took the Turbid Mirror but didn’t stop her. Instead, she had even opened the Cold Eye to let her take the sacred herb. Now, descending to the Mortal Realm, ostensibly to retrieve the mirror, Changying had still allowed her to be trapped within it.

With all this in mind, how could a Nine Heavens Divine Venerable like her have the audacity to claim a “clear heart”? What kind of deity would go to such lengths for a devil?

Zhuyou scoffed, “Just say my heart is unclear. No need to beat around the bush.”

“I never said that. Don’t put words in my mouth,” Changying frowned. If she were still in her childlike form, she would have seemed like she was pouting.

Seeing Changying flustered and unable to retort, Zhuyou found it… somewhat endearing.

She truly couldn’t understand how this dragon could remain so calm and composed while speaking to her. Gods and devils were natural enemies, yet not only had Changying not captured her and taken her to the Heavenly Palace, she had even helped her evade detection at every turn. One might even call her a close ally of the Devil Clan.

A proper Nine Heavens Divine Venerable, going out of her way to care for a devil like her—if the Nine Heavens found out, the Heavenly Emperor would be so furious he might flip the heavens upside down.

“Then what exactly are you hoping for?” Zhuyou decided to cut to the chase. All this guessing was getting her nowhere.

To her surprise, the dragon blinked, her pale lips parting as she said, “I only hope for your well-being.”

Zhuyou felt a strange sensation, her heart pounding loudly. She frowned and turned away, wanting to part ways.

Changying didn’t stop her, only saying, “A hundred years ago, you took me with you, fed me spirit stones so I could take human form. I followed you everywhere, and even when you trapped me in a bowl, I was only confused, not truly resentful. All in all, a hundred years ago was like this, and now, even after entering the Turbid Mirror, it’s still the same,” Changying said calmly.

Zhuyou paused, realizing that Changying was likely explaining her earlier question: What hasn’t changed?

Changying stood still, watching her, just as she had a hundred years ago when she was abandoned in the devil’s domain.

“A hundred years have passed. Now, you’re in the south of the heavens, and I’m in the north of the earth. Yet you’re acting like a devil, stubborn and unyielding,” Zhuyou sneered mockingly. “Or have you developed a devil’s heart too?”

Changying remained silent.

“Do you want me to bewitch you, so you’ll obey me completely, and let me manipulate the Heavenly Realm as I please? Is that what you hope for?” Zhuyou’s heart raced, her mouth dry from the intensity of her words.

In this boundless realm, the sun and moon passed over houses and towering mountains, overlapping briefly before parting again.

Neither heaven nor earth, much like this reckless dragon.

Zhuyou thought the dragon must truly be possessed, perhaps driven mad by the stifling heavens.

Changying blinked her golden eyes. “I’m not stubborn, nor do I have a devil’s heart.”

Zhuyou pressed, “Do you truly only wish for my well-being?”

Changying nodded solemnly. “Truly.”

Zhuyou was utterly perplexed. Though she no longer resided in the Nine Heavens, she knew that a Divine Venerable shouldn’t be so bold or capricious.

She hurried forward, pulling her chaotic thoughts back together. She thought to herself that no matter how powerful this sacred artifact was, there must be a flaw somewhere. She was determined to see where this path would lead if she kept walking straight ahead.

For every step she took, Changying followed, her shadow trailing behind just as it had a hundred years ago.

Zhuyou couldn’t help but feel that perhaps this dragon truly hadn’t changed.

She couldn’t be certain, but Changying knew exactly what she desired.

They were meant to walk the same path, but fate had pulled them apart. What Changying had gained should have been Zhuyou’s as well, yet…

Yet Zhuyou had lost everything and remained trapped in her shackles.

What was she after? She wanted Zhuyou to reclaim everything she had lost, yet without having to return to the Nine Heavens. The path ahead would undoubtedly be fraught with hardship, but she was willing to give it a try.

Seeing that Changying remained silent, Zhuyou found the situation rather dull.

The Turbid Mirror seemed to encompass everything within heaven and earth. As they walked forward, more and more unfamiliar scenes unfolded before her eyes. Though the cliffs and beaches appeared as if they had been sliced away, leaving only fragments, they were still utterly foreign to her.

Zhuyou slowed her pace, fearing that the Turbid Mirror might pull her back into the chaotic realm of illusions. She had been fortunate to wake up the last time, but there was no guarantee she would be so lucky again.

Changying followed behind her, walking leisurely. While others who entered this place seemed to be undergoing a trial, constantly at risk of being driven mad by the mirror, she remained utterly calm, her face showing no trace of panic.

“Do you have a way to get out?” Zhuyou turned her head, her gaze falling to the ground, avoiding Changying’s face. It wasn’t that she couldn’t bear to look at her, but rather that she still hadn’t grown accustomed to Changying’s appearance. There was no trace of childishness left in her features, and her gaze was piercingly cold.

Changying tilted her head slightly, her golden eyes narrowing as she asked, “Didn’t you enter the mirror to search for something? Are you planning to leave before finding it?”

Zhuyou was momentarily speechless. She couldn’t very well admit that she had entered the mirror to secretly search for the remaining hun soul of the Devil Lord behind the Heavenly Realm’s back. She hadn’t expected to be accompanied by a Nine Heavens Divine Venerable.

Was she supposed to perform the act of awakening the Devil Lord right in front of a Divine Venerable?

Her deliberately averted gaze eventually returned to the dragon. Zhuyou studied Changying’s expression carefully, trying to discern whether the dragon knew the true purpose of her entering the mirror.

She stared for a while, but Changying’s expression remained unchanged.

“Do you know what I’m searching for?” Zhuyou asked.

Changying’s face was open and honest, her pale, unadorned features both elegant and austere. She replied coldly, “I don’t know.”

Zhuyou’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, still not entirely convinced. Changying must know. Otherwise, why would she deliberately bring her into the mirror? Clearly, she wanted to keep a close eye on her.

How ironic. A hundred years ago, she had treated this dragon like a pet snake, keeping it under her watchful eye at all times, afraid that something might go wrong. Now, a century later, she was the one being closely monitored by the dragon.

Perhaps this was fate.

Even if Changying claimed not to know, Zhuyou wasn’t about to reveal her true intentions. Instead, she teased, “You’re avoiding my earlier question. Could it be that even you can’t find a way out?”

Changying replied, “It’s a bit difficult,” though it was hard to tell if she was being truthful.

Zhuyou shot her a sidelong glance. The surroundings began to shift again, the floating houses slowly descending, and the fragmented streets gradually piecing themselves together. It seemed as though they had returned to the Mortal Realm.

She immediately focused her mind, afraid that a moment of distraction might plunge her back into confusion.

Fortunately, the accusatory voices did not return, and her consciousness remained clear.

Pedestrians began to appear on the streets. At first, their figures were faint, passing right through her. She paid them no mind until a playing child ran headlong into her leg, causing her to stumble.

The child looked up, startled and unsure of what to do. Before it could speak, Changying pushed it aside.

The child stood there, stunned, its small face filled with grievance.

“Go away,” Changying said coldly, showing none of the benevolence expected of a celestial being.

The child burst into tears and ran off, disappearing into the distance.