Chapter 37
Chapter 37: True Dragon Appears
Even so, Shao Heng knew her stubbornness came from scars.
In the cultivation world, divination wasn’t praised for nothing. It was called the Heavenly Secrets Art. It stood beside the four cultivation arts, no weaker—and if anything, harder to study.
Heavenly-secrets cultivators could calculate cause and effect, glimpse outcomes, read fortune, judge disaster or blessing. They weren’t the charlatans who had swindled desperate people in the Mortal Realm.
That was why Shao Heng couldn’t stop thinking about what Zhu Wu Shuang had said before she died—about her master, Elder Ci Hang.
Shao Heng had planned carefully. She’d let Snake Demon deliver the final bite, making it the true killer. She’d checked Zhu Wu Shuang’s body afterward and left no wounds that could be traced back to her.
But if Elder Ci Hang tried to calculate the truth, would he still find the thread that led to Shao Heng?
Even so, there had been no other choice.
Zhu Wu Shuang had deliberately plotted to send her into a snake pit. Leaving her alive would have been a blade pressed to Shao Heng’s throat—one that could cut at any time. Better to strike first.
Shao Heng didn’t regret it. Not even a little.
She had never been the type to wait for death.
That, more than anything, was why she’d borrowed books on stars and divination. Not because she believed in fate—but because she wanted to understand what might be turned against her.
Of course, she wouldn’t say any of this to Li Chao Ge. After Shao Heng’s blunt refusal, Li Chao Ge didn’t press.
Li Chao Ge formed seals with her right hand. The Hundred Rapids Skiff descended faster, air turning turbulent around them. Wind screamed at the open deck. They had to drive spiritual power through their bodies just to keep stable.
When the skiff finally landed smoothly, both girls hopped down lightly.
The skiff shrank again, darting back into Li Chao Ge’s sleeve. She used both hands to smooth down her wind-tangled hair, fussing until it lay neat again. Only then did she pull out the parchment map and wave it in front of Shao Heng with a bright smile.
“Junior Sister Shao Heng, we’re at the foot of Dan Yang Mountain. Let’s go. Companion Dragon Grass, Spirit Dragon Liquid—both.”
Shao Heng nodded, but her voice stayed cautious. “A True Dragon hatchling was born with an omen. If that’s true, the news has already spread. Who knows how many cultivators have rushed here?”
Li Chao Ge lifted her brows. “Companion Dragon Grass is only Second Grade. It has special uses, sure, but it won’t draw high-realm seniors.”
She laughed, fearless in a way that felt almost reckless outside the sect. “If some high-realm cultivator comes to fight us over a Second Grade spirit herb, that’s shameless.”
“And low-realm cultivators won’t necessarily have a family like mine gathering information.” She gave Shao Heng a sideways look. “Relax.”
Shao Heng didn’t argue. She entered the mountain with Li Chao Ge.
Legend said an alchemist once refined pills atop Dan Yang Mountain, gathering earthfire. When the pill succeeded, it flew from the cauldron like a blazing sun—and the mountain took its name.
The story couldn’t be verified, but as Shao Heng climbed, she could feel it: fire-aspect spiritual energy here was unusually rich. Winter was bitterly cold, yet the trees remained lush, the air warm as spring.
They moved quickly and soon reached the first marked spot on the map.
A True Dragon had likely rested here. Lingering heavenly-demon aura pressed down like a warning. Demon beasts kept their distance. Even insects along the path had fallen silent.
Shao Heng’s gaze swept the ground—and then stopped.
Through the grass, four slender stalks swayed in the wind.
They didn’t crawl along the soil like ordinary plants. They stood upright, jade-green blades edged with pale gold. The stems were rough, covered in raised bumps shaped like tiny dragon claws.
Companion Dragon Grass.
Li Chao Ge stared, eyes shining. “If you graded it purely by the spiritual energy it holds, it would qualify as First Grade. But it has rare, special uses, so it’s listed as Second Grade.”
She rattled off examples without looking away. “Dragon Might Pill. Dragon Scale Powder. Both need it as an auxiliary ingredient.”
Then she pointed abruptly, voice turning sharp as if afraid Shao Heng might steal it out from under her.
“The first-class mission requires turning in three stalks. There are four here. The extra one is mine. Don’t you dare fight me for it.”
Shao Heng didn’t bother answering.
She moved, fingers forming a spell. Soil loosened around the plants, lifting cleanly. Three stalks floated toward her. One drifted down in front of Li Chao Ge as if placed there.
Li Chao Ge blinked, caught off guard by how easily she’d gotten her “extra.”
Shao Heng said, “There are three marked locations. We’ll check the other two. If there’s more, it’s every woman for herself.”
Li Chao Ge recovered quickly, pulling out a long sandalwood box. She placed the grass inside, cast a preservation spell, and smiled with sudden sweetness.
“How embarrassing,” she said, voice switching into something playful. “Then it’s a deal.”
Her eyes gleamed with confidence anyway.
Li Chao Ge had cultivated nearly ten years longer than Shao Heng. She’d grown up training within her clan, where the spiritual energy was far thinner than the True One Yuan Sect’s blessed land—so her progress had been delayed. Still, she believed her mana foundation was stronger than Shao Heng’s, and she trusted her own strength.
Shao Heng glanced at her, the corner of her mouth lifting faintly.
They stored the Companion Dragon Grass and immediately headed toward the next marked location.
Perhaps because Shao Heng had yielded without argument, Li Chao Ge became less restrained. She kept talking under her breath as they moved, words spilling like she couldn’t help herself.
Shao Heng was about to cut her off when her brows tightened sharply.
In a blink, she flicked a silencing curse onto Li Chao Ge’s mouth, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her into dense bushes off the path.
Li Chao Ge reacted fast too. She didn’t struggle, didn’t make a sound.
They settled into stillness. Less than ten minutes later, a group rushed past.
Three cultivators—running at full speed, auras fully exposed.
Their spiritual pressure was far stronger than Shao Heng’s and Li Chao Ge’s. Strong enough that even hidden in the brush, Li Chao Ge’s face darkened.
When the group had passed and their footsteps faded, Li Chao Ge sent a voice transmission, careful and tight.
“They’re heading where we were headed. From their aura… Second Realm. We can’t provoke them.”
Shao Heng’s reply came at once, equally calm. “Then we go to the third marked location.”
“They’re higher realm. They’ll reach the second spot first. We can’t beat them there, so we give it up.”
When the danger had truly moved on, Shao Heng lifted the silencing curse. They slipped from the bushes, exchanged a look, and said nothing further.
They drove spiritual power through their legs, movement techniques carrying them across the forest floor in long, swift bounds.
The deeper they went, the stronger the demonic aura became. Heavenly-demon pressure pressed against their skin like invisible weight. They still hadn’t encountered other cultivators, and Li Chao Ge’s tense face eased a fraction—
Then her rushing body froze.
A roar split the sky.
It wasn’t loud in a normal sense. It was something that struck directly into the soul.
Dark clouds churned overhead, swallowing stars and moon in a breath. A massive dragon shadow flickered in and out of the clouds, vast enough to blot out the heavens.
Li Chao Ge’s face went blank. Blood spilled from her mouth and nose, and she collapsed as if her spirit had been shattered outright.
She barely regained enough awareness to swallow a Nourishing Spirit Pill—then her eyes rolled back, and she sagged again.
She managed one frantic glance at Shao Heng.
Shao Heng was on the ground too, face turned down, expression hidden. Only the rise and fall of her chest showed she was still breathing.
Li Chao Ge’s throat worked. She forced herself to breathe, staring upward in terror.
Then a beam of clear light cleaved through the heavy clouds.
Moonlight poured down again.
Inside Shao Heng, her inner breath had been thrown into chaos—but at the instant the dragon roar struck, she turned inward and saw bright moonlight burst from her naturally sealed Niwan Palace, forcibly holding back the heavenly-demon pressure.
When she cultivated Three-Thousand-Li Moon and absorbed moonlight essence, a silver-white olive—like imperial flowing nectar made solid—would appear and fuse into her brow, sinking into her Niwan.
That had to be why she could endure.
Shao Heng’s body looked limp, but her breathing steadied fast. Slowly, she lifted her head.
The beam of clear light had torn the clouds apart. In that opening, the True Dragon’s body appeared fully before her eyes.
A True Dragon truly was one of the most perfect Dao bodies in the world—vast beyond measure, yet carrying an indescribable, flowing beauty.
Dragons were lords of all scaled creatures. The True Dragon in the sky had a camel’s head and deer antlers, a snake-like neck and clam-like belly, and five fierce claws that looked like they could rend mountains apart.
Its scales were like a carp’s—pure white without a trace of color. Only a gray mane sprouted between the scales, rippling like storm smoke, making its presence terrifyingly majestic.