Ming Shuang’s mind was a chaotic mess, tinged with a hint of sadness.
He wondered if Xuzhi had picked him up from somewhere and brought him back to the Card Pool.
If he hadn’t been abandoned, then like the other Card Beasts, he must have been snatched by Xuzhi…
Whether abandoned or stolen, neither possibility sat well with him.
But thoughts were just thoughts. Ming Shuang had spent the most time with Xuzhi out of anyone, and right now, he was still by his side.
Deep down, he trusted Xuzhi the most.
So, he figured he had probably been abandoned.
He had never seen his parents, or anyone related by blood, or even others of his own kind.
Even though this part of his past was completely blank, stumbling upon these revelations now, he couldn’t help but care.
Ming Shuang lowered his eyelashes and pursed his lips.
Seeing his low mood, Xuzhi soothed him gently. “Did shapeshifting suddenly make you feel unwell anywhere?”
Ming Shuang hesitated before replying, “Just a little. Better than the previous times, though.”
That proved the medicinal tonics were having some effect.
“Want to rest a bit?” Xuzhi’s tone remained soft. “Where did that thing from the box fly off to earlier?”
He meant the dragon scale. Ming Shuang tilted his head against Xuzhi’s shoulder and touched the spot over his heart. “It’s here…”
Ming Shuang knew that a dragon scale served as a layer of protective magic and could be removed from one’s body to give to someone else.
When he was sixteen, he had wanted to give his own dragon scale to Xuzhi, but he hadn’t gotten the chance before Xuzhi found out.
Xuzhi had been furious back then and forbidden him from doing it.
If not deliberately given away, a dragon scale would automatically protect its kin—those bound by blood.
Dragons matured early. Ming Shuang had possessed this knowledge since he was young; it was called inherited memory.
But his own inheritance seemed incomplete. Otherwise, how could he be so uncertain about the existence of his own kind?
In a quiet voice, Ming Shuang explained it all to Xuzhi, including what had happened when he was sixteen.
Xuzhi stroked his silver hair. “I don’t need your dragon scale.”
Ming Shuang nuzzled into the familiar embrace and mumbled, “That’s what you said back then, too…”
After chatting with Xuzhi for a while, Ming Shuang’s attention shifted successfully, and his mood lifted considerably.
He hesitated for a moment before stowing the pendant back into his storage bracelet.
If the chance ever came… Ming Shuang wanted to know who the person in the portrait was, and what kind of identity and history they had.
He also packed away the now-empty gem box and the few books.
Having fully recognized its master, the storage bracelet had grown along with his human form, fitting snugly around his wrist.
All three books were on ice magic. Ming Shuang was certain it was no coincidence.
Perhaps the silver-haired woman in the portrait could use ice magic too, just like him?
Was she a Silver Frost Dragon as well?
The word “mother” flickered vaguely in Ming Shuang’s mind, leaving him momentarily dazed.
Tomato and Coal Ball came over to the sofa. Unaware of what had happened, they hovered nearby with clear worry.
Ming Shuang finished storing everything, including the two large chests, then scooped up Tomato for a head rub and lifted Coal Ball into his arms.
Once Xuzhi confirmed that his mood had improved and his condition was better than right after shapeshifting, he asked, “Want to take another look upstairs?”
The person in the portrait had once lived here. There might be more clues related to Ming Shuang.
Now that he was in human form, Tomato couldn’t carry both of them at once, so there was no rush to leave.
Ming Shuang thought it over and nodded. “Mm.”
Tomato stayed behind to guard the living room. With Coal Ball in his arms and Xuzhi at his side, Ming Shuang headed up to the second floor.
Stepping into the rooms on the second floor again, his mindset was entirely different this time.
He carefully examined every furnishing in the bedroom, running his fingers over the wooden corner of the desk.
The decor wasn’t particularly luxurious—in fact, it was somewhat simple—but it was clear that every item had been chosen with care.
Even the embroidered bedsheets, after all this time, remained vibrant and new, the fabric soft and fine.
There was also the wardrobe. Ming Shuang had barely glanced at it before, but now he was full of curiosity.
He inspected every piece of clothing inside meticulously. There were more women’s dresses, beautiful and ornate in style, while the men’s outer robes and such were simpler and plainer.
After the wardrobe, Ming Shuang went to the study.
He scanned every book on the two shelves and noticed that many had matching covers, all marked with “Lobe Academy” on the back.
Ming Shuang also found a book on magical beasts that cataloged over a thousand species.
And the very first page was about the Dragon Clan.
~~~
The Dragon Clan, sovereign of all beasts.
Compared to other magical beasts, the Dragon Clan was born with the ability to shapeshift and possessed overwhelming power. They weren’t typically called magical beasts at all—more like divine beasts.
The Dragon Clan had several branches: Crimson Flame Dragons, Thundercloud Dragons, Shadow Dragons, Spiral Leaf Dragons… and so on.
They shunned contact with other races, preferring to live in isolated places cut off from the world. They especially disliked outsiders intruding.
Though their strength was immense, their reproductive capacity lagged far behind ordinary magical beasts. Each year, the number of young dragons was extremely low, and they could not intermarry with any other race.
The Dragon Clan had no mixed-blood offspring.
Ming Shuang read on. There was also a passage on the Dragon Clan’s physical traits.
No matter the branch, all dragons possessed golden pupils.
Ming Shuang held the book, a wave of confusion washing over him.
So the man in the portrait wasn’t a dragon, and only one of his own eyes was golden.
Did that make him a mixed-blood dragon? But the book said there were no mixed-blood dragons…
Could that be why he had never met his parents or his kin?
…In that case, the likelihood of him being abandoned grew even higher.
Because he was a mixed-blood, different from the others.
Ming Shuang’s mood sank again. With a snap, he closed the book.
Xuzhi called out at just the right moment. “Ming Shuang.”
He had been waiting off to the side the whole time, silently watching and guessing what Ming Shuang would find in the book.
Ming Shuang shelved the book and turned to throw himself into Xuzhi’s arms, his voice glum. “Master…”
Xuzhi leaned back against the windowsill, his palm gently stroking down Ming Shuang’s back. “Why the long face again?”
Ming Shuang stayed silent for a long while before speaking. “I get it now. I’m a mixed-blood dragon, different from the others, so they tossed me aside, right?”
“They?” Xuzhi murmured softly. “Your clanmates might not even know you’ve grown up safely.”
Tuji had mentioned that Ming Shuang had a frail constitution from birth and could easily have died young.
Even if he was mixed-blood and possibly discarded by the Dragon Clan for it, there could be other reasons.
Ming Shuang lifted his head, looking a bit bewildered.
He had never considered that angle…
Xuzhi continued, “Besides, everything here was left for you by the person in the portrait.”
The “treasures” in the attic, the storage bracelet and dragon scale, even the group of fluffy plushies outside.
Their arrival here had gone smoothly too. It was as if this house had been waiting for Ming Shuang all along.
Ming Shuang mulled it over and realized Xuzhi had a point.
Regardless of his clanmates… if his parents had abandoned him, why leave all these things behind?
Especially the dragon scale—it hurt terribly to remove one forcibly. No one would give it away lightly.
Just like that, Ming Shuang was coaxed back to good spirits, his earlier gloom lifting.
He gazed at Xuzhi and let out a soft, obedient “Mm.”
And no matter what had happened before, he still had Xuzhi by his side.
Even with amnesia that had made him seem years younger, Xuzhi remained the master Ming Shuang knew so well.
Especially now—listening to his calm, gentle words filled Ming Shuang with a sense of security.
He nuzzled into the crook of Xuzhi’s neck and whispered, “Anyway, I’m Master’s dragon now…”
Xuzhi turned his head slightly at the nuzzling, his gaze lowering in quiet thought.
Ming Shuang had been soothed, but Xuzhi’s mind wandered to the owner of this house and the Dragon Clan. Where were they now?
Did the Dragon Clan even know of Ming Shuang’s existence? Would they return to this continent?
Compared to him, this “master,” Ming Shuang’s clanmates or blood relatives would surely take precedence.
When that time came, Ming Shuang wouldn’t be his dragon anymore.
Xuzhi zoned out briefly before Ming Shuang spoke again. “Also… you didn’t used to call me that.”
He pulled his thoughts back. “Hm? Call you what?”
“You never called me Ming Shuang before.” Ming Shuang’s expression grew earnest. “You called me Shuang Shuang, Little Shuang, Little Dragon Baby…”
Xuzhi’s lips curved into a smile. Unable to resist, he took Ming Shuang’s hand and gave his palm an affectionate squeeze.
Ming Shuang didn’t pull away, still nestled in his arms. “Master, I’m hungry.”
They had arrived at the top of Netherworld Mountain that morning; it was noon now.
Seeing that Ming Shuang wasn’t ready to leave yet, Xuzhi led him downstairs to prepare lunch.
The house had a kitchen, but no ingredients, so lunch consisted of the food Xuzhi had packed ahead of time.
With help from the fluffy plushies, Tomato and Coal Ball fetched water from a nearby stream.
Ming Shuang sat by the window. He took his medicine for mana disorder first, then sipped some heated fish soup.
Once lunch was finished, Ming Shuang still showed no sign of wanting to go.
The afternoon brought strong winds, so Xuzhi helped him into one of the new outer robes they had bought. Ming Shuang sat on the grass outside, grooming the fluffy plushies one by one.
He had found a comb in the house, and it worked perfectly.
Ming Shuang’s sudden shapeshifting hadn’t startled the fluffy plushies at all. Though his human form wasn’t that of a hatchling, he was still a very young dragon.
They lined up neatly on the grass. When it was their turn, the fluffy plushies always hugged Ming Shuang’s hand and rubbed against it before flopping into his arms. They even flipped over on their own, making it easier for him to groom their fur completely.
~~~
An afternoon passed in the blink of an eye. Before nightfall, Ming Shuang reverted to his form as the Little Dragon Hatchling.
He still did not want to leave and planned to spend the night there, but he refused to sleep in the bedroom on the second floor.
All the items had been cleaned with wind magic and were basically spotless, but Ming Shuang did not want to mess up the bed. He hoped to leave everything just as it was.
That night, for their rest, Xuzhi pitched a simple tent on the grass outside the house.
Ming Shuang had already washed up by the nearby stream. After bidding goodnight to the fluffy plushies, Xuzhi carried him into the tent.
Tomato bedded down outside the tent, while Coal Ball burrowed into its own backpack.
The sky had grown almost completely dark, and the fluffy plushies returned to their respective wooden stakes to rest.
In the distance, the Snow Fox curled up behind a cluster of bushes and let out a yawn.
The forest fell silent under the thin moonlight.
The night passed uneventfully. It was not until the faint light of dawn that a disturbance stirred in the woods.
Several beast tamers concealed their presence. One of them had eyes glowing white as he peered ahead through the eyes of his magical beast.
“There’s a house… and a tent? Did someone beat us here?” he muttered. “No guardian beasts in sight.”
“That must be right at the heart of the forest,” his companion grumbled beside him. “We didn’t spot a thing the whole way. Is this really the Dragon Clan Ruins?”
Forget treasures—they had not even encountered a single magical beast, aside from that initial pack of fluffy plushies that attacked anything in sight.
A fog hung over the treetops, making it hard to navigate, so reaching this spot had taken them considerable time.
Another companion spoke up. “Doesn’t matter. No guardian beasts means we check it out. There might be something good inside the house.”
No one objected. Under the cover of the jungle, they pressed forward. Only when they drew near did they spot the tent pitched on the grass outside the house.
They exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them.
Someone had indeed arrived ahead of them… which meant it was time to take action.
The house looked small. Anything worth taking had surely already been looted by the tent’s occupants.
They had fought hard to enter this place. Leaving empty-handed would be a waste.
One of them felt a twinge of unease—why had the others not hurried away and instead camped out overnight?
But the long trek had frayed their tempers, leaving no room for deeper thought.
The group leader struck first, hurling several fire orbs as a test.
With a “splat,” the fireballs were intercepted midair by a flash of golden light.
The noise was considerable, yet the tent remained utterly still.
Moments later, they saw several wooden stakes on the grass twitch.
One fluffy ball poked its head out, snarling furiously. “Awoo!”
~~~
Meanwhile, at the outskirts of the Netherworld Mountain summit, Xiang Lun stood before the Element River, facing off against Wu Shao and Xing Huai of the Dragon Clan.
“The Dragon Clan vanished for a century, only to reappear now,” Xiang Lun said gravely. “What are you after?”
Wu Shao snorted. “Mind your own business. Does it say anywhere that dragons aren’t allowed inside?”
Xing Huai stood off to the side, frowning up at the towering ribbon of the Element River.
Nearby, a magical beast lay unconscious on the ground.
Black qi poured from its body, held in check by Xiang Lun’s space magic.
Yet the black qi had drifted too close to the Element River. In an instant, a portion of it was sucked inside.
At that moment, the churning waters of the Element River brimmed with miasma fog, sealing off the space within entirely.
Ivan stood behind Xiang Lun, his expression grim. In a low voice, he said, “Dean, word from the Academy. Several students skipped class… and went inside.”
Xiang Lun had just failed to summon the Snow Fox and was already perplexed. At this news, his beard bristled. “What did you say?!”
