Recap
A perfect flower for a princess.
As Long Shiyu reached for it, a blur of motion snatched it away. A young Dead Leaf Monkey, perched on a branch, held the flower triumphantly, its chattering a mocking taunt.
Before Shen Chaomu could react, Long Shiyu took flight, his powerful wings sending leaves and branches scattering. He intercepted the monkey, retrieving the flower. The startled creature fled.
Shen Chaomu, watching from the vehicle, chuckled.
Long Shiyu landed, presenting the flower to Shen Chaomu with a flourish. “Here you go,” he said, beaming.
Shen Chaomu accepted the gift, his gaze lingering on the photo displayed on the dashboard – their smiling faces a testament to their unlikely bond. They had shared extraordinary moments: escaping the circus, navigating the tunnel, the embrace at the waterfall, the missile strike, the collapsing bridge, the flight through the wildfire.
Compared to those, this was a simple, ordinary day. No rainbows, no grand adventures.
But as he held the delicate flower, a realization bloomed within him.
It’s adoration.
They returned to the ancient tree the following morning. As they climbed the wooden steps toward their treehouse, a small explosion rattled the branches.
Fang Qing’s enraged shouts followed.
Shen Chaomu entered the room, the air thick with smoke. Fang Qing’s face was blackened, and Yang Zhiming, who had been visiting, coughed violently. He quickly reattached his prosthetic leg and fled outside.
“What are you doing?” Shen Chaomu asked, waving away the smoke.
“Just a normal poison experiment,” Fang Qing wheezed, throwing open the windows. “I was trying to find some more materials…” His gaze fell on the cherry-pink flower in Shen Chaomu’s hand. “Where did you find that?” he gasped.
“He picked it by the roadside,” Shen Chaomu replied, gesturing toward Long Shiyu.
“This…this is the missing ingredient!” Fang Qing exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement. “Do you know how rare this is? It’s impossible to find on the market!”
Shen Chaomu recalled Long Shiyu’s uncanny ability to locate rare plants. Perhaps the dragon had a hidden talent.
“Xiao Shen,” Fang Qing began, his eyes gleaming, “can I, can I have this flower?”
“You’ll have to ask him,” Shen Chaomu said, indicating Long Shiyu.
Long Shiyu hesitated. The last time he had given the princess a flower, it had turned into a Scorching Sun Epiphyllum. Now, after all his effort to find a bloom worthy of his princess, it turned out to be another rare ingredient.
But Fang Qing’s pleading expression was hard to resist. “Fine,” he sighed. “Take it.”
Fang Qing snatched the flower, eager to resume his experiments.
“How is Lu Shanyao?” Shen Chaomu asked, changing the subject.
Fang Qing’s excitement dimmed. “He’s fine. Developing the mermaid poison was a significant accomplishment. Lu Shanhuai is the one facing trouble.”
Sun Fu, the “wise man,” still held a grudge after his humiliations in Bei En. Unable to target Fang Qing directly, he had turned his attention to the Lu brothers.
Lu Shanyao, as a researcher, was relatively safe. He spent most of his time in the lab, his talent and achievements protecting him. But Lu Shanhuai, as a commander, was vulnerable to accusations of misconduct. Even minor oversights could be used against him. This was why he had returned to Star City, unable to join them in Tabu.
“The Sun family provides significant funding to the association,” Fang Qing explained.
“Don’t they also have shares in the Zhanshu Chamber of Commerce?” Shen Chaomu asked. “They’ve invested heavily in Tabu’s industries.”
While the chamber was primarily orc-run, its financial backers came from across the Star Sea. As the birthplace of two civilizations, Tabu held a wealth of resources and historical artifacts, and the Western Hemisphere remained largely unexplored.
Fang Qing scratched his head. “It’s annoying. I want to help Xiao Lu, but my hands are tied. I’ll poison those bastards someday. Anyway, I have experiments to conduct.” He snatched the cherry-pink flower and hurried back to his room.
Long Shiyu followed Shen Chaomu.
“We need to visit the market today,” Shen Chaomu said. “It’s the busiest time; we should find the materials for your treatment.”
“Okay.”
Shen Chaomu reviewed the latest association reports, a small birdcage dangling from his fingers. It was the gift he had given Long Shiyu, its delicate gears catching the light.
Long Shiyu had received gifts before, but they were always lost or destroyed. This one, at least, was safe.
That afternoon, as they headed for the market, they spotted the Black Knight engaged in a drinking contest with an orc.
“Fill it up! Fill it up!” the orc roared, his face flushed.
The Black Knight poured the drink into his helmet. As a ghost, he had no need for such mundane activities. He was a bottomless pit, his opponent hopelessly outmatched. He calmly opened his visor and poured the drink down his throat.
The orc, his vision blurry, was oblivious. He lost the next round of dice and reluctantly handed his winnings to the Black Knight.
Several bags, filled with miniature plants, hung from Potato’s saddle.
Long Shiyu’s eyes lit up.
The Black Knight, sensing danger, turned to see Long Shiyu approaching. He scooped up his winnings and fled without a word.
Shen Chaomu sighed.
“I’ll find you another flower,” Long Shiyu promised, gazing longingly after the retreating knight. The birdcage pendant on his chest shimmered in the sunlight.
“You’re still wearing that?” Shen Chaomu asked, surprised.
“Of course.”
Shen Chaomu had intended to mention that it wasn’t particularly valuable. He had simply chosen a shiny trinket from the market. He was accustomed to extravagant displays of wealth, the auctions of the Shen family overflowing with dazzling jewels and priceless artifacts. Surely, a dragon would prefer those.
“I’ll buy you more expensive ones someday,” he said. “You can hoard them in your nest, all sparkly and beautiful.”
“This one is nice,” Long Shiyu insisted. “I like it a lot.”
A warmth spread through Shen Chaomu’s chest.
“But how shiny are the ones you’re talking about?” Long Shiyu asked. “I’m a bit curious.”
Shen Chaomu chuckled.
They strolled through the bustling market, the ancient tree rustling above them. Despite the wildfire, the market was crowded. Stalls overflowed with dreamcatchers, jewelry, bone-carved horns that emitted haunting sounds, and leaf-woven lanterns that illuminated the forest paths.
Shen Chaomu stopped before a clothing stall, its wares a riot of color. Traditional Tabu garments, reflecting the locals’ vibrant spirit. His gaze settled on a rack of cloaks.
Tabu cloaks were crafted from durable leather and woven leaves, the stitching intricate and strong. They swayed gently in the breeze, offering protection from the elements. In ancient times, orcs wore them for warmth and camouflage, blending seamlessly with the forest. Even today, they were donned during festivals, a symbol of their connection to nature.
Many tourists purchased the cloaks as souvenirs.
“Come here,” Shen Chaomu beckoned to Long Shiyu, who was distracted by a nearby food stall.
He turned Long Shiyu around, guiding him toward the cloaks. “Choose one you like,” he instructed.
“Why?” Long Shiyu asked.
“For warmth, and as a souvenir. Like the scarf you bought in Bei En.”
Long Shiyu selected a cloak with reddish leaves. Shen Chaomu helped him into it, fastening the horn button at the collar. The leaves fluttered gently against his pale skin.
He had acquired a cloaked dragon.
“You’re always worried about me being cold and trying to bundle me up,” Long Shiyu said. “You’re like those fussy grandmas on the internet.”
“I’m not even sure if that’s an insult,” Shen Chaomu replied, amused.
“How could I insult you?” Long Shiyu beamed, reaching for his hand. “I want to hold hands.”
Shen Chaomu hesitated. Before, holding hands had been a way to appease a crying dragon. But now, with his feelings clearer, the act held more significance. He was falling for someone, and even the bravest hunter experienced the trepidation of a budding romance. He was skilled at hunting, at capturing a whining creature and bringing him home. But some things were more challenging than hunting.
He had always been decisive, but Long Shiyu’s initial familiarity and unwavering affection had left him unsure. He didn’t understand the source of their connection.
He took Long Shiyu’s hand, a thrill coursing through him. He couldn’t decipher the dragon’s thoughts, but it had to be love, or at the very least, a pure and genuine affection. After all, the silly dragon couldn’t lie, couldn’t conceal his emotions.
He would confess, when the time was right.
Long Shiyu, hand in hand with his princess, strolled through the market. He quickly acquired an assortment of snacks, devouring a skewer of fried tofu in a few bites.
Shen Chaomu, consulting Romeo’s list, searched for the required ingredients. “Where are your skewers?” he asked after a while, noticing their absence.
“I ate them,” Long Shiyu replied. “And I might have accidentally swallowed a few of the sticks.”
Shen Chaomu sighed. He steered Long Shiyu back to the stall and purchased a copy of “Modern Food Safety.”
They spent the rest of the day navigating the market, finally gathering most of the materials.
Long Shiyu carried a cowhide bag filled with bones, herbs, and flowers, their pungent aroma filling the air.
“Let’s go to Romeo’s,” Shen Chaomu said, checking the time.
“Are we missing anything?” Long Shiyu asked.
“Just dried river flowers and iris needles,” Shen Chaomu replied. “The association said they’re available at the market near the Green Inn. Black Sickle offered to help us find them.”
“He’s such a good mantis.”
“You call him a good mantis, yet you steal from his settlement.”
“It’s not stealing for an evil dragon,” Long Shiyu declared with a grin. “What an evil dragon eats is gone, and what an evil dragon takes belongs to him.”
Shen Chaomu, amused by his sudden shift in mood, ruffled his hair.
Several hours later, they were back in the forest, the dilapidated tower with its fluttering golden hair beckoning them. The lettuce patch had flourished, and a dozen mantises tended it with tiny watering cans.
Since Romeo’s successful treatment of Black Sickle, the mantises had relocated from the inn, diligently working to heal their wounds. Romeo, however, needed time to recover between treatments. The mantises, with time on their hands, watched television and watered the lettuce.
The Sky Settlement mantises were known for their aloofness. Despite their strength, they only attacked hostile creatures. They disdained other races and rarely interacted with humans, even when forced to hunt on the ground due to food shortages. They actively avoided humans, retreating to the clouds at the slightest provocation.
Researchers had long been fascinated by the mantises and their ability to materialize clouds, hoping to harness their power for technological advancements. But their efforts were thwarted by the mantises’ vigilance.
Now, by chance, these mantises were interacting with humans, learning new things. As Long Shiyu and Shen Chaomu approached, they heard the mantises chanting, “Fuck your mother! Fuck your mother!” as they flitted about with their watering cans. Some had even mastered the art of cursing in Alliance Standard.
“They say learning a language starts with swear words,” Shen Chaomu remarked, amused.
“Really?” Long Shiyu pondered this. “The first Alliance Standard phrases I learned were ‘Can I eat this?’ and ‘Thank you.’ I didn’t understand the replies, but I said them anyway.”
Shen Chaomu chuckled.
Inside the tower, Black Sickle greeted them with indignation. “Our glorious settlement was ruined by you, damned dragon!” He spread his wings threateningly.
Long Shiyu, unconcerned, took advantage of Romeo’s distraction to sneak a few more touches at the princess’s waist.
Romeo, surrounded by ingredients, would be busy for a while. Long Shiyu and Shen Chaomu explored the tower. Its small windows offered glimpses of the sky, now darkening with storm clouds.
Wind howled through the tower, whipping their hair and clothes. Long Shiyu’s new cloak billowed around him.
Thunder rumbled, followed by flashes of lightning. Another storm.
Shen Chaomu instinctively put an arm around Long Shiyu. “Don’t be afraid,” he said automatically.
But this time felt different. Rain lashed down, the oil lamp flickering to life. Golden light flakes mingled with the rain. The storm was intense, its energy volatile.
And within the roar of the thunder, Shen Chaomu heard it – the heavy, labored breathing of a dragon.
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