The Dragon of the Fallen Demon Master Sister in a Book - Chapter 22

The wooden wheels rolled on, kicking up clouds of dust. The sound of wheels grinding over gravel and the creaking of the long-neglected carriage filled the air. By the time Chris fully regained consciousness, it was already daylight.

 

As soon as Chris woke up, she stretched lazily, her front claws extended, her body arching outward until she completely flipped over, exposing her vulnerable belly. However… halfway through the motion, she immediately realized something was off.

 

Huh? This feels really strange.

 

So soft.

 

What’s this soft thing?

 

Not just soft, but… also fragrant, kind of like… Wait a minute!!!

 

Where am I?

 

Let me see?!

 

The drowsy dragon hatchling opened her eyes, and in an instant, all traces of sleepiness vanished. Chris stared in shock at the scene before her.

 

Her expression shifted from contentment to surprise, from surprise to horror, and from horror to sheer panic—but not a hint of embarrassment.

 

She, she, she—

 

What was she doing?!

 

Me, me, me—

 

I’m a straight dragon!!!

 

Help!!!

 

Me, me, me—!!!

 

Chris was utterly flustered, nearly jumping out of her skin, her face a picture of shock and terror as she babbled incoherently, her reaction bordering on a full-blown meltdown.

 

Dragon hatchling: Fear.jpg.

 

“A-Zhuo, I, I, I…” Chris flailed her claws, trying to prove they hadn’t been placed anywhere inappropriate. She quickly retracted them, not daring to touch that spot again.

 

But as she let go, still too stunned and caught off guard, Chris didn’t immediately spread her wings. Her wings were too long to unfurl in such a confined space, and before she knew it, her entire body slid right down the collar of the robe.

 

“Me, me, me, me!!! Holy crap!!!” Chris cursed inwardly, squeezing her eyes shut and freezing in place, too terrified to move. What was she doing?! Was she some kind of pervert?! Someone save her reputation!!!

 

Feng Qingzhuo: ?

 

Feng Qingzhuo watched as her trembling dragon hatchling stopped moving altogether, so she simply removed her outer robe and wrapped the little dragon up in it, leaving herself in just a plain undergarment.

 

She chose the softest side of the robe, cradling Chris in her hands. Immediately, she noticed the dragon was shaking, like a cat in the throes of a stress response—her whole body puffed up, trembling inside the robe. Gently, Feng Qingzhuo patted her back and soothed, “It’s okay.”

 

When the hatchling finally opened her eyes, she was met with Feng Qingzhuo’s youthful yet breathtakingly beautiful face.

 

Wrapped in the soft, white silk robe embroidered with gold patterns, Chris felt Feng Qingzhuo’s fingers gently squeeze her tiny claws as she asked with tender concern, “Chris? What’s wrong?”

 

“Still hungover?”

 

“Are you feeling unwell? Does your head hurt?”

 

The sudden barrage of concern left Chris momentarily stunned. She shivered but managed to latch onto the most crucial detail—the reason she’d fallen asleep in the first place.

 

It finally dawned on Chris—ah yes! It was all because of that alcohol she drank earlier! The alcohol content must have been too high! That’s why she accidentally made a fool of herself!! Yes! That had to be it.

 

As long as she stubbornly refused to admit it was her own fault, no one could do anything about it anyway!!

 

Perfect! What a clever little dragon she was!!!

 

This self-affirmation gave her courage. Feeling quite pleased, Chris deliberately feigned weakness and said,

 

“A-Zhuo, my head still feels a bit dizzy.” Having said that, Chris crawled out from the pile of Feng Qingzhuo’s clothes and affectionately nuzzled her hand. Only the occasional light flick of her tail against Feng Qingzhuo’s wrist betrayed the little dragon’s inner joy—she was so happy she could barely contain her giggles.

 

Feng Qingzhuo found this rather amusing and asked, “Do you want to sleep a bit longer? If you rest for another two hours, we’ll almost be at our destination. I’ll wake you then.”

 

Chris’s dragon pupils narrowed. She was already awake and didn’t need more sleep—forcing herself to sleep would be uncomfortable anyway. So, she stammered in refusal, “N-no need…”

 

“I’ll… just lie down for a bit… just lie down.” With that, she plopped herself into the haystack beside Feng Qingzhuo, afraid that the latter might suddenly take it into her head to hold her for a full check-up. Where would her dignity be then?

 

As the saying goes, one lie begets countless more to cover it up. So, caught between lying and covering her lies, Chris chose silence.

 

She fell silent.

 

Feng Qingzhuo didn’t call her out on it either. Some things were better left unsaid—no need to embarrass each other by pointing out the obvious.

 

To Chris, time crawled by agonizingly slow. She had buried her head in the haystack for what felt like an eternity, counting down the seconds in her mind. It was sheer torture, especially when she counted all the way from 1 to 3,599. The surroundings remained eerily quiet—Feng Qingzhuo’s call never came. Instead, what arrived was…

 

Wen Qian quickly located the carriage Feng Qingzhuo was in and jogged over in a few quick steps. With a swift motion, she vaulted onto the carriage—her movements fluid and practiced, clearly an old hand at this.

 

Agile as a deer darting through the woods, Wen Qian flipped onto the carriage effortlessly. Chris felt the weight shift slightly as the carriage dipped under the newcomer’s weight. She lifted her head to see what was happening—had they picked up cargo along the way?—only to find Wen Qian sitting beside Feng Qingzhuo, smiling gently at her.

 

An immediate surge of displeasure rose in Chris. It felt like something that should rightfully be hers was being toyed with by someone else. Unhappily, she pawed at the gold coins on her chest. She was annoyed—no, extremely annoyed.

 

Unaware of this, Wen Qian sat shoulder-to-shoulder with Feng Qingzhuo with practiced ease and asked with a smile, “Senior Sister Feng, since we’re heading to the same destination, why don’t we travel together?”

 

As soon as she lowered her head, she saw Chris lying beside Feng Qingzhuo. Wen Qian reached out, wanting to stroke the dragon cub—after all, she had taken its spot and pushed the poor spiritual beast aside—but Chris deftly avoided her touch.

 

The little dragon, harboring no grudges, quickly climbed back onto Feng Qingzhuo’s body, eyeing her as if she were some villain. Well, she was indeed a villain—the kind who stole her A-Zhuo away.

 

Anger flared. How could her A-Zhuo get so familiar with this woman so quickly? Did she no longer want her?

 

The thought suddenly flashed through Chris’s mind: Was her A-Zhuo going to run off with another woman? She shook her head violently, shuddering as she dismissed the terrifying idea.

 

Impossible. Absolutely impossible.

 

The sudden weight on her legs left Feng Qingzhuo flustered. No matter how many times it happened, Chris’s “ambushes” always caught her off guard. Her body tensed—having already shed an outer robe, the sensation grew even more intense. Before she could react further, the dragon cub pressed entirely against her.

 

Chris, puzzled, asked, “A-Zhuo, are you feeling unwell?”

 

“Why are you trembling?”

 

Feng Qingzhuo: “…”

 

Her voice came out hoarse. “I’m fine…”

 

“Your voice is scratchy, and you say you’re fine?” Chris’s tone sharpened as she leaned in even closer. Feng Qingzhuo instinctively recoiled, only for the dragon cub to push her down onto the haystack.

 

Chris extended a tiny claw, intending to check Feng Qingzhuo’s forehead for fever—but then she remembered: as a black dragon, her body temperature differed from a human’s. She wouldn’t be able to tell.

 

So, her gaze shifted to the third person nearby. “You,” she said to Wen Qian, “check if A-Zhuo has a fever.”

 

Feng Qingzhuo waved her hands frantically. I don’t!

 

Wen Qian found the situation amusing. A glance at Feng Qingzhuo’s flushed face told her exactly what was happening, so she smoothly defused the tension.

 

“Don’t worry. Cultivators like us don’t fall ill so easily—we’re not mortals from the mundane world. It’s just that before you woke up, we had a bit of wine, and the effects haven’t worn off yet.”

 

“Really?” The dragon cub eyed them suspiciously.

 

“Really.” Feng Qingzhuo composed herself, expression unreadable, and lifted Chris into her arms.

 

But they had forgotten one thing: a dragon’s keen sense of smell. Chris detected no trace of alcohol on Feng Qingzhuo. Still, it was a minor matter—no need to press further. If A-Zhuo didn’t want her to know, she would play along.

 

–

 

That said, Wen Qian was undeniably sociable. By Feng Qingzhuo’s past-life standards, this woman was definitely an extrovert—her chatter was relentless!

 

Though the dragon cub hadn’t taken to her at first, Chris saw no signs of their interactions veering into dangerous territory. Wen Qian also knew her boundaries, never overstepping in a way that felt uncomfortable.

 

Perhaps the most boundary-pushing thing Wen Qian had done so far was trying to pet Feng Qingzhuo’s dragon cub without permission.

 

(Not that she succeeded.)

 

After Wen Qian’s monetary temptations and various treats, Chris’s favorability toward her finally increased. Who wouldn’t like a generous yet tactful rich woman?!

 

Though Chris’s pride told her she shouldn’t yield so quickly, she had at least reached the point where she no longer rejected Wen Qian. Now, the two of them—well, one human and one dragon—could sit together, share food, chat, and exchange information.

 

“Can I ask why you left the Tianxuan Sect?” Chris raised her claw and asked Wen Qian politely.

 

After all, not long ago, they had seen Wen Qian strolling through the market. Plus, with family ties still binding her, she didn’t seem like someone who would travel so far.

 

Ever since the Dragon Soul had taken control of her body last time, Chris noticed her language skills had improved significantly. At least now, her speech, though still a bit slurred, was understandable to more than just Feng Qingzhuo. The feeling of making progress without effort—so satisfying!!!

 

Chris even considered letting the Dragon Soul possess her a few more times, allowing her to learn all the languages of every race while she just stood by and watched. Really, this feeling was beyond amazing!!

 

Of course, that was until she heard from the Dragon Soul that frequent possession wasn’t advisable. Forced possession could turn her into an idiot dragon, possibly even preventing her from shapeshifting. And if she did manage to shapeshift, she might never grow tall. Worse still, food would lose its flavor. Considering her already questionable intelligence, combined with her past life’s height of barely over 160 cm—constantly seen as a shorty among taller peers—Chris, the ultimate foodie who dreamed of growing taller, fell silent.

 

Ah, that was truly terrible news.

 

It turned out the Dragon Soul, having accessed Chris’s past-life memories, knew exactly how to manipulate her. If the Dragon Soul had warned her about other drawbacks—like comparing the importance of learning a new language versus memory loss—Chris might have weighed the options and decided not to bother. She might have just pestered the Dragon Soul to possess her and do the work for her. But…

 

Food, height, and intelligence—none could be sacrificed.

 

As for whether she was smart or not, Chris had some self-awareness. Being not-so-smart was fine, but becoming an outright idiot? No way!

 

Add to that her nineteen years as a shorty in her past life—having once experienced the lofty perspective of looking down on others—she yearned even more to grow tall. And food losing its flavor? That was a joke! What was the point of a dragon’s life if she couldn’t enjoy delicious meals?!

 

Chris’s question hit the mark. Wen Qian’s pupils trembled slightly, but she quickly steadied her expression. “Because…”

 

“Li Haochen again?” Chris blurted out.

 

The usually eloquent Wen Qian nodded silently.

 

“I have friends in the Tianxuan Sect too,” Wen Qian said, twisting the white jade bracelet on her wrist. “One of them happens to be from the Punishment Hall. That night… she was on duty, so she saw… everything that happened. Including… the life-and-death duel.”

 

Wen Qian extended her hand toward Chris. “Since we share the same goal, why can’t we be friends?”

 

Chris stretched out her claw and gave her a firm shake.

 

“I was actually still thinking about where to go, but…” Wen Qian paused, “After I returned to Ten Thousand Swords Peak, Young Master Li left three stripped corpses in front of my door and said this was the fate of those who disobeyed…”

 

Wen Qian fell silent.

 

Chris suddenly realized—could those be… those three unfortunate rogue cultivators? In the cultivation world, desecrating corpses… to do something so vile was just…

 

“I figured since I couldn’t stay anyway, I might as well… first had someone bury their bodies properly, then fled overnight.” Wen Qian looked at Feng Qingzhuo.

 

“I sent a letter home explaining the situation to my parents, then thought I’d try finding you—maybe you’d have a solution. Later I noticed our destinations seemed aligned, so I came here.” Wen Qian pointed at the carriage beneath them.

 

To change the subject, Chris asked, “Miss Wen, after all this time, we still don’t know what spiritual roots you have?”

 

“I’m a single wood spiritual root.” Wen Qian played with the storage pouch at her waist, her gaze momentarily distant.

 

Chris looked shocked, “A single wood spiritual root and they sent you to Ten Thousand Swords Peak?! And made you just a low-level outer disciple?! Without even assigning you a master?!!”

 

During their rest, Feng Qingzhuo had explained the power structure of Heavenly Profound Sect. Combined with her knowledge from the novel in her past life, Chris understood quickly—in this world, fewer spiritual roots meant faster cultivation. Every single-root cultivator was a treasured resource, potential peak climbers who represented their sect’s prestige.

 

Feng Qingzhuo also looked up, puzzled. Every single-root cultivator was precious, especially wood element—such a rare single root made her perfect for medical or alchemical cultivation!! Didn’t the alchemy hall drag you in and lock you up to study???

 

A wood single spiritual root—even in formations, this was the rarest position for healing!!! At worst, she could serve as control. How did this happen? Did their sect’s testing stone break?! To let such a treasure slip through their fingers??? Are we catching leviathans here??? This is beyond ridiculous.

 

“Because…” Wen Qian pinched her sleeve, somewhat embarrassed. Before she could finish, the carriage jerked to a sudden stop, throwing them forward and interrupting the conversation.

 

Someone called from ahead, “Young Mistress, we’ve arrived!”

 

“Where is this?” Chris asked Wen Qian.

 

“Qingyang City.” Wen Qian gazed at the towering city walls, nostalgia flashing in her eyes. “This is my maternal grandmother’s territory.”

 

Dragon Soul added, “Keep going forward and you’ll reach the Endless Forest.”

 

Chris froze, glancing at Feng Qingzhuo, who was staring upward at something unseen.

 

So Chris turned back to Wen Qian, “Why did you come here then?”

 

Wen Qian’s smile was uglier than a grimace, “Because there’s a secret realm beneath this city—why else would I come here for no reason?”

 

“I’m fleeing for my life. This secret realm only permits underage cultivators to enter.”

 

“What’s the name of this secret realm?” Feng Qingzhuo turned back and asked Wen Qian.

 

Wen Qian replied, “The Beast King’s Secret Realm.”