Chapter 46
Chapter 46: Golden Crow Sun-Embracing Visualization Art
Shao Heng rose. A layer of white spell-light flashed, and every lingering droplet vanished from her skin. By the time she stepped out of the wooden tub, she was already neatly dressed in her yellow disciple robes.
She picked up the timing talisman on the table.
Nearly four hours.
Her gaze swept the room.
In the corner, Duo Bao was curled in the small nest she’d made for him, digesting a First Grade precious medicine he’d swallowed earlier along with Azure Emperor spiritual liquid. His little body trembled faintly as he worked to break through.
Compared to Human Clan cultivators, Demon Clan bodies were far sturdier at the early stages and could endure more domineering medicinal power. With enough resources, their cultivation rose faster.
But later on, the Human Clan held the advantage in comprehending the Dao and its laws.
As long as she fed Duo Bao enough, he would break through smoothly.
As for the little White Dragon…
He’d shamelessly claimed her meditation cushion. After swallowing two First Grade Beast Spirit Pills, he’d coiled his long, thin body and fallen asleep like he owned the place.
Through the Blood Pact, Shao Heng could sense the surging bloodline within him. It was repairing the damage from death qi at an astonishing rate while digesting the pills to grow stronger almost with every breath.
At this pace, he might reach mid-stage First Realm even before Duo Bao.
True Dragon bloodline really was unfair.
Shao Heng’s mouth twitched. “You’re a born thick-skinned little dragon.”
She walked over, grabbed him off the cushion, and shook him until his eyes cracked open.
“Who said you could sleep here?” she demanded. “Go. Your nest is over there.”
The little White Dragon followed her pointing finger.
A small burlap nest—crudely stitched, but clean—sat in the corner. She’d bought it at the market.
He lowered his head, rolling his eyes where she couldn’t see, then let out an indignant dragon roar that somehow sounded perfectly righteous.
“I’m not sleeping in something that small. My inheritance memories say every True Dragon should claim an entire dragon island!”
He said it as if Shao Heng was committing a crime against the heavens.
Shao Heng brought her palms together and rubbed them lightly. “So I feed you two Beast Spirit Pills and you start getting bold.”
Her gaze drifted to the dragon mark on her arm. “I just finished tempering my body. I even used your father’s dragon blood.”
She lifted her hand, the faintest threat in her tone. “Want to remember your father’s aura in my palm? I’ll slap you, and we’ll call it your father giving you a hug. Hm? Speak.”
The little White Dragon’s eyes widened in horror. That logic was so shameless he didn’t even know how to argue it.
Grumbling under his breath, wriggling like a worm, he shrank into the burlap nest.
Shao Heng exhaled and shook her head. Training a dragon really was a long road.
—
Time flew. In the blink of an eye, two months passed.
In front of the Wondrous Dharma Tower, Shao Heng looked up at the gate, the night air sharp in her lungs. She clenched her disciple token, feeling lighter than she had in a long time.
“I’ve run myself ragged—mission after mission,” she thought. “Finally, before the Mystic Moon Secret Realm opens, I’ve saved 2,127 contribution points. Enough to exchange for the Golden Crow Sun-Embracing Visualization Art.”
There were still seven days until the secret realm opened.
“Maybe I can even grasp the basics before I go in.”
She lifted her chin and walked inside, heading straight for the fifth floor.
The fifth floor was dim, lit only by a handful of floating orbs near the ceiling. On closer look, there were eight in total. Two elders sat at the entrance in rocking chairs, eyes closed, looking half-asleep.
Shao Heng didn’t hesitate. She went straight to a gold-and-red orb and pressed her token against it.
As the number on her token dropped by 2,100, the gold-and-red light rippled like water. A black crow feather shot out and landed in her palm.
It carried the immortal art’s inheritance—functioning like a jade slip.
Shao Heng put it away with care.
One of the elders opened his eyes, looked her over, and spoke in a cold, warning tone. “Sect immortal arts may not be passed on. Anyone who violates sect rules will have their cultivation abolished and be expelled from the True One Yuan Sect.”
“This disciple understands,” Shao Heng replied evenly. “Thank you for the reminder, Elder.”
As if she needed reminding. She’d clawed this art out of the sect with her own hands—why would she ever hand it to someone else?
A boyish voice snorted in her mind, coming from the dragon-pattern totem on her arm.
“Hmph. You’re willing to take an immortal art at this level? Desperate, aren’t you.”
That Blood Pact Yin Liu had forced them into was far more ingenious than ordinary beast-taming lineages. Within a certain range, human and dragon could communicate directly through the mind.
Shao Heng’s expression didn’t shift. Only after she left the fifth floor and reached the stairs did she answer, equally calm.
“Ao—no. Little White Dragon, just wait. When I get back, I’ll peel off a couple more of your scales.”
Because of the Blood Pact, she’d changed her original plan of skinning and gutting him. When she took valuable materials from him, her methods had become gentler.
He was in a scale-shedding period. Pulling scales didn’t hurt much, and with Azure Emperor spiritual liquid and precious medicines constantly fed to him, he’d started mistaking Shao Heng for someone tough-mouthed but soft-hearted.
He huffed proudly. “Peel one more and I’ll count it as a gift.”
Shao Heng didn’t bother replying.
When she walked out of the Wondrous Dharma Tower, the little dragon’s mind-voice came again, this time oddly hesitant.
“It’s been so long. Why do you keep calling me little White Dragon?”
Shao Heng walked toward the disciple courtyard under the night sky. “You want to ask why I never gave you a name like Duo Bao?”
He didn’t deny it.
“Duo Bao is something I rescued from the Beast Garden,” Shao Heng said. “You’re different. You have a father. I assumed White Dragon already gave you a name. If you don’t want to say it, that’s fine.”
Her tone was unhurried, almost gentle. “The name your father gave you carried his best expectations.”
“And even though you signed a Blood Pact with me… you don’t need to live out my expectations.”
For once, the little dragon didn’t snort back. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled, tight in a way that didn’t fit his usual arrogance.
“My father named me Ao Chuan.”
Shao Heng’s brows lifted slightly, as if she’d stumbled into a rare stroke of luck.
“Then from now on,” she said, “I’ll call you Ao Chuan.”
Back in her room, she shut the doors and windows, activated the isolation formation, and set out the formation plate.
Shao Heng sat at the desk, took out the long black crow feather, pressed it to her forehead, and carefully sensed the immortal art’s true meaning.
Lower Grade Immortal Art—Golden Crow Sun-Embracing Visualization Art.
“Nine suns blaze at dawn; even Yi cannot shoot them down. Visualize the Golden Crow embracing the sun, draw in the great sun’s radiance, gather the fire of nine yangs. Condense a raging inferno and shape killing transformations.”
When the true meaning finished unfolding, the crow feather crumbled into black ash.
Shao Heng’s eyes shone. “So there really is a way to absorb the essence of sunlight.”
Then her excitement faltered into caution.
“But if I take in sun radiance by day and gather moon essence at night… won’t they clash?”
Sun and moon. Tai Yang against Tai Yin. Fire and water.
Shao Heng propped her chin on her left hand, brows furrowed tight as the thought refused to let go.