Chapter 42
Chapter 42: I’m Here to Beat You Up
Shao Heng let out a short laugh.
The “sweet” smell was probably the few drops of Azure Emperor spirit liquid still lingering in her body. Duo Bao had looked like it was drinking nectar when it took the liquid—she had known then that what she condensed didn’t just ripen spirit plants and treasure herbs. It drew beasts like honey drew flies.
As for her “father’s scent”…
That had to be the bottles of dragon blood she had collected earlier. If a hatchling could smell it through a storage ring, then keeping that kind of thing on her was asking for disaster. She would have to use it up—and fast.
Shao Heng’s eyes brightened. Her smile turned almost kind as she stepped closer to the pond. A palmful of green liquid gathered in her hand, shimmering with life.
“I was sent by your father,” she said sweetly, “to deliver spirit liquid to you. Want to drink it?”
The hatchling, for all its intelligence, was still a newborn. The scent made it dizzy. It sniffed hard, again and again, nostrils flaring.
“I want to drink.”
Shao Heng crouched at the water’s edge and poured the spirit liquid in.
The hatchling’s mouth opened wide. It swallowed every last drop.
It smacked its lips, savoring, then sang urgently.
“More.”
Shao Heng dusted her hands. The smile vanished.
“You’re such an easy-to-fool, stupid dragon. I’m not here to feed you.”
“Human slave?”
“Blood food?”
“Neither.” Shao Heng’s gaze sharpened. “I’m here to beat you up!”
The hatchling had power, but it was only early First Realm.
In the spirit liquid, Shao Heng had hidden the death qi of Frost Under Heaven.
Both the spirit liquid and the death qi were born of Azure Emperor, rooted in the same source. With deliberate control, she wrapped the death qi in that sweet life-scent until it became indistinguishable.
Now she flicked her wrist.
The death qi erupted.
The hatchling rolled belly-up, thrashing in the water, its body convulsing as pain ripped through it from the inside.
“Open the mist,” Shao Heng said coldly. “Stop playing dumb.”
It wasn’t that the hatchling had truly mistaken her for a slave or food. It had planned from the start—pretending to misunderstand, acting innocent, trying to trap her and buy time.
The fog around them didn’t move.
Shao Heng’s patience snapped. She plunged her left hand into the pond, grabbed the hatchling by the head, and forced her power through her arm, pinning it down.
Her right arm swung.
A slap cracked across the hatchling’s face.
It cried out—dragon song turning shrill—but the slaps didn’t stop. Shao Heng used her waist, her elbow, all the leverage of someone who had learned how to hurt.
Only when the hatchling’s eyes filled with tears—only when it endured the agony of the death qi and no longer dared to squeal—did Shao Heng pause, breathing even.
Now she was even more sure.
“That White Dragon is already in deep trouble,” she thought, heart lifting with a fierce, almost giddy certainty. “Life-and-death trouble.”
After Jiang Yun Jiang cracked the mist, the White Dragon should have sensed it. Yet it hadn’t come, not for a long time.
Even after nearly losing its essence blood, the hatchling cared more about coaxing food from Shao Heng than about calling its father to take revenge.
Caution could save your life. It could also make you miss the only chance you would ever get.
Jiang Yun Jiang had been too cautious. The moment her dagger failed, she ran.
If she had stayed just a little longer, she would have seen it too. With that dirty thing helping her, forget essence blood—she might have walked away with the hatchling itself.
Shao Heng tightened her grip on the hatchling’s throat.
Its body went stiff. The reaction shot joy through her so hard it almost felt unreal.
True Dragons enslaved other beings with Dragon Sigil. But greed went both ways. Who wasn’t eyeing this treasure vault?
Dragon blood, dragon tears, dragon scales, dragon marrow, dragon bones, dragon horns… even dragon saliva—anything with “dragon” in it was a rare treasure.
The hatchling’s voice came out low, broken by pain. “Y-you’re a bad person.”
It tried to glare, but its eyes were watery. “Y-you said you wanted to protect peace between humans and dragons.”
Shao Heng slapped it again.
“Yes,” she said coolly. “I’m that bad.”
“Human-dragon peace? You were the one who tried to eat me first.” She leaned closer, smile sharp. “You destroyed the basic trust between humans and dragons, understand?”
“You dragon traitor!”
The hatchling didn’t argue. It was too busy fighting the death qi gnawing through it like a parasite. Each time it tried to force out a bloodline secret art, the death qi flared and cut it off.
Frost Under Heaven could be destroyed by brute force before it entered the body. Once it got in, it was like a dodder vine that took root and drank life endlessly. Unless you had power far beyond Shao Heng’s realm, you couldn’t pull it out.
The hatchling had no way to deal with it.
Shao Heng eased the death qi just enough for it to breathe, then snapped, “You can control the mist. Open it.”
She raised her hand again.
The hatchling flinched. A claw lifted, trembling, and waved.
The hard wall softened back into mist.
Shao Heng’s anger flared hotter.
“I saved you earlier,” she said, voice harsh, “and you still tried to trap me the moment you woke up.”
She slapped it again—harder.
“Hmph. Bad dragon to the bone.”
The slender little body in her grip curled around her forearm, wrapping tight like a vine. With the death qi easing, the hatchling no longer dared struggle.
Shao Heng glared at it. “True Dragons can hide their aura, right?”
The hatchling didn’t answer—only stared at her with sullen misery.
“Hide your dragon breath properly,” Shao Heng warned. “If anyone discovers you, I’ll throw you out. I don’t believe anyone else will be as kind as me. See if they don’t skin you and tear you apart.”
She yanked a wide-sleeved outer robe from her storage ring, draped it over herself, and surged out through the thinning mist.
She already had the two spirit herbs. With nothing else urgent, returning to the sect and lying low was the smartest play.
As she fled, she calculated fast.
“Once I’m back, even if the White Dragon doesn’t die and comes after me, the One Yuan Sect will have a great expert step forward to negotiate. At worst, I hand the hatchling over.”
“And if the One Yuan Sect hands me over under True Dragon pressure, the strongest Human Clan sect will gain the name of bowing to the Dragon Clan.”
Her thoughts flicked to the worst case.
“If it comes down to it… I’ll reveal my true cultivation and the Azure Emperor ability. Even if an elder’s inspection makes Gray Cocoon likely to be exposed, at least I won’t die today.”
She drove Three-Thousand-Li Moon without pause. Half an hour later, she had burst out of Dan Yang Mountain and was darting through the forest beyond.
Then the sky cracked.
A thunderous boom rolled overhead—followed by a dragon howl so full of pain it made the hairs on her arms rise. The sound weakened from strong to faint, and in the last lingering note, hatred and regret threaded through like poison.
Shao Heng stole a sliver of attention and looked back while she ran.
No sign of the White Dragon.
But in the clear daylight, the distant clouds were soaked red.
“White Dragon is probably dead,” she thought, and the realization squeezed her chest tighter, not looser.
Her sleeve turned damp.
She glanced down.
The hatchling on her forearm had tears in its eyes, trembling so hard its body shivered.
Shao Heng immediately pulled out a jade bottle and caught the tears as they fell, never breaking stride.
“Aww,” she said, voice light, almost mocking. “How pitiful.”
She didn’t comfort it. She didn’t soften.
True Dragons were proud. It was said they rarely cried.
That meant dragon tears were precious.
After she filled two bottles, Little Dragon glared at her, turned its head away, and stubbornly held back its tears, refusing to let her profit any more.
Shao Heng pushed Three-Thousand-Li Moon harder.
The string in her heart didn’t loosen because the White Dragon had died.
It drew tighter.
With the White Dragon dead, she was in even greater danger.