He hadn’t learned it for long back then before Xuzhi had abruptly stopped teaching him, so Ming Shuang wasn’t proficient in the skill.
If he used it now, it would probably create something like a dream state. The success rate wasn’t guaranteed, but it was worth a try.
Xuzhi noticed the little dragon hatchling suddenly lift his head, his round eyes sparkling with spirit as he leaned in to lick the side of Xuzhi’s face.
Xuzhi wasn’t used to such contact and turned his head away. He simply cleared the table, then carried the little dragon hatchling back to the bed.
On the other side of the room, Lante was already fast asleep. Before turning off the light, Xuzhi placed the little dragon hatchling back in his makeshift nest of clothing.
But the moment he lay down, the little dragon hatchling pounced straight into his arms.
Xuzhi fell silent for a moment, then got up and returned the little dragon hatchling to the low cabinet.
He lay down again, and once more the little dragon hatchling came flying over. He put him back yet again.
This time, the little dragon hatchling finally seemed to settle down. He sat obediently on the folded clothes, watching as Xuzhi lay back down.
The room plunged into darkness. Outside, all was quiet. The nighttime temperature was comfortable, and a narrow window stood cracked open.
It wasn’t long before Xuzhi heard a faint rustle.
The edge of the bed dipped slightly as Ming Shuang carefully extended a paw, stealthily making his way to the pillow.
He circled around once to find a good spot, then slowly scooted up to Xuzhi’s neck.
Xuzhi’s breathing hitched for a moment, but he didn’t open his eyes.
Fine, whatever.
Ming Shuang guessed Xuzhi wasn’t asleep. Seeing that he wasn’t refusing anymore, he grew bolder.
He squeezed into the gap between the pillow and Xuzhi’s shoulder, curling up against the warm hollow of his neck.
Even after settling in, Ming Shuang still didn’t feel quite comfortable.
The bedsheet fabric was too rough, prickling against his scales. He wriggled around, constantly pressing closer to Xuzhi.
His slightly cool claws rested on the side of Xuzhi’s neck, kneading gently like a kitten, until Ming Shuang finally relaxed and closed his eyes.
Some time later, Xuzhi’s breathing evened out as he too fell asleep.
Unusually, he dreamed that night.
The scene in the dream was hazy, and a vague human figure barreled straight into his arms, stirring an inexplicable sense of familiarity.
Instinctively, he reached out to hold it—like embracing a gentle wisp of ice mist.
The figure was speaking to him, but he couldn’t make out the words.
Xuzhi looked down, trying to confirm who it was in his arms.
The ice mist dissipated a little, and the view sharpened.
Ming Shuang reached out to touch Xuzhi’s face, calling softly, “…Master?”
The silver-haired youth was strikingly handsome, with a pair of distinctive blue-gold heterochromia eyes and skin as white as snow.
Xuzhi’s breath caught, and he jolted awake from the dream.
It wasn’t dawn yet—probably around five in the morning, too early to get up.
The room was utterly still. The Little Dragon hatchling was pressed snugly against Xuzhi’s neck, sleeping soundly.
Xuzhi closed his eyes again and took a deep breath.
What an odd dream… But upon waking, most of the details immediately grew fuzzy.
He couldn’t recall who the person in the dream had been or what they looked like—only that they must have been very beautiful.
Xuzhi frowned, his expression turning cold and stern as he quickly reviewed everything that had happened recently.
Confirming nothing matched up with the dream, he let it go for now, not intending to dwell on it.
The Little Dragon hatchling sleeping against his neck stirred faintly, letting out a couple of barely audible hums, as if dreaming himself.
Xuzhi reached up to stroke the cool dragon horn, his thoughts easing.
~~~
Meanwhile, on a distant island.
A hazy dawn light glowed on the horizon, stretching across endless forested mountains.
High in the sky, a massive dragon streaked by, landing in the island’s center and shapeshifting into human form before hurrying into the tower.
Wu Shao pushed open the door to the alchemy room and spotted the familiar figure inside. “You’re really still here. Don’t tell me you haven’t left this place in over half a month…”
Yan Si looked up, his golden pupils flicking toward Wu Shao. “Something you need?”
Wu Shao strode over quickly. “Yes.”
His expression was grave as he handed over the magic stone in his hand.
“The magic stone detected a trace of dragon breath,” Wu Shao said. “It’s very faint, and from the calculations, it happened last night, far away.”
Yan Si took the magic stone, a slight furrow forming between his brows. “How far?”
“On Cangyuan Continent.”
Seeing Yan Si fall silent, Wu Shao added in a low voice, “I showed it to Xing Huai first. She said the dragon breath was extremely weak—like that of a young dragon…”
Yan Si set down the magic stone. “Has she been hovering over that dragon egg day after day and started hallucinating?”
Wu Shao opened his mouth but said nothing.
Of course he knew that faint dragon breath didn’t necessarily mean it came from a young dragon. Besides, when they’d left Cangyuan Continent all those years ago, every dragon egg had been brought with them—there couldn’t possibly have been any left behind.
Moreover, for the past century, even the dragon eggs on Dragon Island hadn’t been able to hatch. Cangyuan Continent had been plagued by miasma fog for years, making it even less likely now…
By this point, the dragons of the clan had long since given up hope, spending their days in drowsy lethargy. Only a scant few were still striving to find a solution.
“Still,” Yan Si said as he rose to his feet and shrugged off his alchemy robe, “there’s something fishy about this. I need to go check it out.”
Wu Shao said at once, “I’ll come too.”
Yan Si considered for a moment, then nodded. “Bring one more, but don’t let the other dragons know. We’ll sneak in quietly and avoid alerting the local clans.”
~~~
At six in the morning, Xuzhi opened his eyes right on schedule.
Lante’s work started even earlier than his, so the house was empty save for him and the little dragon hatchling.
Xuzhi got out of bed and dressed. As he glanced downward, he took note.
The injuries he’d sustained yesterday in the jungle had fully healed by now, without a single trace left.
Xuzhi withdrew his gaze. The Little Dragon hatchling was still deep in sleep. He’d meant to fetch breakfast first, but after only two steps, a sound came from behind him.
Xuzhi turned around to see the little dragon hatchling blinking sleepily, flying toward him in a wobbly, eager rush.
Xuzhi had no choice but to catch him, frowning as he said, “I’m going out to get food. Wait here for me.”
This hatchling was clever; he figured he could understand.
Sure enough, the little dragon hatchling let out a little “mmph,” but he clutched Xuzhi’s clothes even tighter.
He understood, alright—but he still wanted to follow.
Xuzhi was momentarily at a loss for words.
Were all magical beast cubs this clingy?
After a brief hesitation, he gave in. He opened his jacket and instructed, “Hide in here. You can’t let anyone see you.”
The Little Dragon hatchling burrowed into the inner pocket, giving an obedient “mmph.”
Xuzhi’s jacket today was even looser, made of stiff fabric that concealed any bulge.
He buttoned it up and headed out the door.
Inside the pocket, Ming Shuang yawned, squinting with drowsiness.
Last night’s attempt at a mental link had drained a full third of his magic power.
As for the effect… it had been half a success. Xuzhi had seen him in the dream, but from the look of things just now, he still remembered nothing.
Maybe he needed to try a few more times… A young body was just too frail, which was another hassle.
Ming Shuang looked down at his tiny claws.
How was he supposed to protect his master like this…?
Truth be told, Ming Shuang had no real combat experience.
Xuzhi had raised him, pampering him the whole time without ever letting him join a true fight.
But Ming Shuang knew that as a dragon clansman, his power couldn’t possibly be weak.
Dragon clan bloodlines were extraordinary. Even from the moment of hatching, young dragons were exceptionally intelligent, with certain instincts ingrained in their very bones.
Back in his youth, Xuzhi had always told him he was the last dragon in the world—the strongest, the most beautiful.
Ming Shuang thought to himself that he needed to “grow up” quickly and regain his strength.
He recalled how Xuzhi used to feed him pretty gemstones and bitter medicine pills.
But Xuzhi didn’t remember him anymore, and there were none of those things around.
With that realization, Ming Shuang started worrying again.
The Little Dragon hatchling dozed off in a daze, eyes closing, only to be startled awake by the sound of the door.
Xuzhi returned with breakfast, set it on the table, and lifted the little dragon hatchling out of his pocket.
Ming Shuang lowered his head for a look. Before him sat a bowl of thin porridge and half a flatbread.
The flatbread appeared rock-hard, carrying a distinct stony smell.
The Little Dragon hatchling leaned in for a sniff, then lifted his head to gaze at Xuzhi.
Xuzhi met Ming Shuang’s eyes, remaining utterly silent.
Seeing him quietly lower his gaze, Ming Shuang dipped his head again. His nose tip brushed lightly against the flatbread before he opened his mouth and bit down.
The flatbread was far too tough. He struggled to gnaw off the tiniest morsel, tasted it, and nearly spat it right out.
With great difficulty, the little dragon hatchling swallowed the bite. He then buried his head before the porridge bowl and tentatively lapped at it.
Having sampled both foods, Ming Shuang silently withdrew. He squatted off to the side, watching Xuzhi.
“Gurgle…”
The Little Dragon hatchling’s stomach let out a rumble, proving he wasn’t lacking in hunger—merely unwilling to eat.
Ming Shuang promptly straightened up even more, tensing the tip of his tail as he pretended the sound hadn’t come from him.
Xuzhi raised a hand to his forehead. It was his oversight. How could the cub of a high-tier magic beast possibly stomach such fare?
Yet the camp offered no provisions for magical beasts.
Xuzhi had intended to steel himself. He had already resolved to send the hatchling away. After all, he wasn’t its owner and bore no obligation…
The Little Dragon hatchling sat obediently on the table, looking up at him. His blue-gold heterochromia eyes shimmered with moisture.
He seemed a touch aggrieved, as though striving to endure his hunger—and he looked utterly pitiable.
Xuzhi fell silent for a long moment. Then, from another concealed pocket in his coat, he drew out a small cloth pouch.
He opened the pouch to reveal a modest handful of coins inside.
He had worked tirelessly for so long, scrimping and saving every bit he could in hopes of one day redeeming his labor contract.
Lacking any innate talent, he nonetheless possessed a unique physique. In his off-hours from work, he could venture into far more perilous areas to gather rare materials and sell them for coin.
In the camp, his closest relation was his roommate Lante—but even Lante knew nothing of his true circumstances.
Now, it seemed he had no choice but to spend some.
Xuzhi fished out a few copper coins, his expression as cold as ever. “Stay right here. I’ll go buy some proper food and be back.”
Fate had brought this hatchling into his path, after all.
Since he had decided to return it to the Thorny Jungle, he couldn’t very well let it starve in the meantime. Otherwise, what would be the difference from deliberate mistreatment?
The Little Dragon hatchling let out a soft “Mmph,” settling into a very obedient squat this time.
Xuzhi turned and departed, securing the door firmly behind him.
The moment he was gone, Ming Shuang lowered his head to sniff the flatbread once more. He smacked at it with his paw—pa-pa-pa—torn between temptation and disgust.
Xuzhi wasn’t away for long. When he returned, he carried a bowl of meatball porridge. It smelled decent enough, studded with a few slices of fragrant shiitake mushrooms and greens.
The camp supplied scant provisions to its contract workers, and this was the best fare Xuzhi could procure.
Such a single bowl had cost him two copper coins.
He held the bowl steady, his brows still edged with chill, yet he used the spoon to dice the meatballs into tiny pieces and fed them to Ming Shuang.
The Little Dragon hatchling sniffed at it, then devoured the bite with an “Ahmm.”
Xuzhi offered a few more spoonfuls, the corner of his mouth twitching upward ever so slightly.
It was rare for his heart to soften like this… though those two coins stung to spend.
Halfway through the feeding, the little dragon hatchling twisted his head away and refused another bite. He pawed at Xuzhi’s hand.
His striking blue-gold heterochromia eyes gleamed brightly, as if to say: You eat some too.
Xuzhi set the bowl down and stared at the little dragon hatchling, quietly lost in thought.
Truly obedient. And clever, too.
Once this breakfast was finished, he would take the magical beast cub back to the jungle and pretend they had never crossed paths.
