The Dragon of the Fallen Demon Master Sister in a Book - Chapter 25

“What are you doing?” The dragon spirit hovered midair, looking down at the dragon whelp. Chris was using her claws to frantically dig at the dirt on the ground.

The usually clean dragon whelp didn’t seem to care that this behavior had left her entire body covered in dust. Her previously spotless form was now filthy, her head smeared with grime, looking rather pitiful.

“Going crazy, losing it, having a breakdown… call it whatever. I’m just not doing well,” Chris replied casually, her voice hoarse. She slammed her claws into the ground again, sending years of accumulated sand and stones flying in a cloud of dust.

Her draconic face was full of distress as she shook her head in frustration. “Oh, I’m not okay. I’m feeling really not okay right now.”

To this, the dragon spirit had only two words: “You’re insane.”

“Then just consider me insane,” Chris said, slicing a massive boulder blocking her path clean in half with a single swipe of her claws. She slumped onto the smooth surface of the split boulder, looking utterly listless. Her tail drooped limply to the ground, and her expression was one of profound misery—complex beyond words.

This state of their dragon whelp wouldn’t do. Raising an underage dragon was always like this—young dragons were emotionally volatile, their moods shifting rapidly. One moment, they might be grinning at you with goofy delight, and the next, they’d plunge into depression for reasons you couldn’t fathom.

Still, for the sake of the young dragon’s physical and mental well-being, the dragon spirit decided to offer some comfort. After all, after so many years, this was the only dragon whelp it had encountered who could communicate with it, listen to its ramblings, and even bring it interesting storybooks (novels from her past life). Really, who else would it dote on if not her?

So, the slender white dragon spirit turned around, its long whiskers twitching slightly with the movement. Mimicking Chris, it perched atop the whelp’s head in a few quick motions.

The dragon spirit gently pressed a claw against the young dragon’s body, feeling the intense heat radiating from her and the powerful heartbeat thudding in her chest—”thump, thump.” Chris’s heart was racing far too fast, almost excessively so. The dragon spirit lowered its head, stroking Chris’s head before carefully brushing away the dust and small stones clinging to her scales. Softly, it asked,

“Chris, your heart is beating so fast… and honestly, your body temperature is too high. No, to be precise, it’s scorching—like your heart is about to burst right out of your chest.”

“You just got wet earlier, and the water on your scales should’ve cooled you down as it evaporated. So why does your body feel like it’s burning up? Did what just happen excite you too much? Or… has your mating season come early?”

The dragon spirit’s method of showing concern was something Chris found hard to appreciate. She shuddered and immediately retorted,

“That’s from exercise! Exercise (digging), okay?! Of course my temperature would rise after exertion—is that so hard to understand?!” Chris snapped, her voice rising in embarrassment and anger by the end, nearly shouting the last words.

After her outburst, panic quickly set in. Chris’s draconic pupils contracted as she struggled to comprehend what was happening to her. She felt an inexplicable sense that something within her was spiraling out of control.

“Am I really about to lose it?” Chris muttered anxiously, completely at a loss. She wanted to offer a sincere apology, her deep crimson eyes filled with remorse as she lowered her head in genuine contrition. However, contrary to her expectations, the dragon spirit shook its head at her and spoke in a tone reminiscent of an elder:

“This isn’t your fault. Many juvenile dragons in the valley struggle to control their emotions—it’s a perfectly normal phenomenon. Though, in such cases, their parents usually resort to ***.”

Chris didn’t understand the word in the middle—it was a term she had never learned, an unfamiliar sound. But she didn’t ask for clarification, only catching the dragon spirit’s next words:

“Besides, it’s just a two-legged creature.”

The dragon spirit’s eyes flickered mischievously as it glanced sideways. “How about this—when you return to the valley, I’ll find you a beautiful, good-tempered human princess?”

Tilting its head, the dragon spirit noticed Chris still seemed uninterested and ventured further,

“Or is one not enough for you? Want a few more pretty ones? I can have them surround you every day, doing whatever you want. How does that sound?”

Chris lifted her head, her deep red draconic eyes fixed intently on the dragon spirit. For a moment, the spirit felt a spark of hope—at least the young dragon was reacting. But seconds later, Chris simply turned her head away and curled up again, even retracting her tail from where it had been draped on the ground.

Dragon Spirit: “…”

Is this a reaction or not?

As a single, millennia-old dragon, it truly didn’t understand the behavior of younglings.

In all its years, it had never seen a juvenile dragon so distressed over seeing a two-legged creature’s body. It was downright bizarre—weren’t they all born naked anyway? What was there left to be embarrassed about?

Shaking its head internally, the dragon spirit lamented that a lone, ancient dragon like itself had to give this kind of guidance. It felt like one of those meddling old matrons in human novels, always nagging about breaking up rather than making up.

Gently tapping Chris’s head with its slender white tail, the dragon spirit reassured her, “This isn’t a big deal—it’s just a normal physiological response. Young ones have boundless energy. Maybe you just need to find another way to channel it.”

After a pause, it tentatively added, “But first, we should confirm—you’re not hitting puberty, are you?”

“If so, the solution might be different. You’d need to return to the valley for that.” The little white dragon propped its chin on a claw. “But you’ve only just hatched. Whether by human or dragon standards, you’re still just a child.”

Dragon Soul lowered its head, its golden draconic pupils seemingly piercing through Chris. “Moreover, I’ve already thoroughly investigated this place. There shouldn’t be any substances here that could induce a dragon’s… mating instincts.”

Chris clutched her head with both claws. At first, she had listened with keen interest, but now her mind was in turmoil. Her body felt unnaturally warm, her bl00d boiling as her draconic heritage surged. Having been human in her previous life, Chris had never experienced such sensations before, and they made her extremely uncomfortable.

Her head now throbbed with pain, making it impossible to focus. It felt like her draconic mind was overheating. She wanted Dragon Soul to stop lecturing her, and indeed, the ancient dragon ceased speaking.

Finally, when the boiling of her bl00d and the burning sensation in her body subsided, her previously muddled mind began functioning again. Suddenly, Chris realized something.

“Wait.” The dragon hatchling abruptly stood up, slamming her claws against the ground as she rolled out of the sandy debris. Lifting her head, she murmured to herself, “A-Zhuo is injured. I need to help apply her medicine. The way she treats her wounds is so violent—it looks painful. Even back at Tianxuan Sect, she was like this. It’s like she has some deep-seated grudge against her own body, showing no care at all. She’d brutally shove her fingers into the wounds to smear ointment into every crevice. Maybe it makes the medicine more effective, but it must hurt terribly… And… is this really okay?”

“Who on earth taught her to treat wounds like this? What terrible habits.” Chris kept muttering, trying to expend her excess energy and numb her nerves through this chatter. By the time her surplus emotions and energy were drained, her body had turned ice-cold.

Spreading her wings, Chris stumbled forward in flight, instinctively calling out, “A-Zhuo, A-Zhuo.”

Feng Qingzhuo stood frozen in place, clutching a blue-green porcelain vial in her right hand, thinking her ugly wounds had scared the little dragon away. She felt utterly at a loss.

Lowering her head, Feng Qingzhuo stared at her injuries for a long time, growing increasingly agitated. Once again, she began reciting the Heart-Cleansing Mantra.

But unlike before, when chanting this mantra and channeling spiritual energy had always brought her profound tranquility… Her master had taught her this mantra, and she remembered clearly the words “purge all distracting thoughts” written on the manual. Yet now… Had the mantra stopped working? Or was something wrong with her body? A sense of panic welled up within her. She wanted to calm down, but her body trembled uncontrollably.

Normally, silently reciting the Heart-Cleansing Mantra would help her regain control over unruly emotions within moments. But now, even when she added hand seals and chanted aloud, that familiar peace eluded her.

The ancient mantra echoed through the cavern. Though Feng Qingzhuo’s voice wasn’t particularly loud, her recitation grew faster and faster. The archaic syllables reverberated through the cave, and as she continued chanting, Feng Qingzhuo found herself slipping into a strange, trance-like state.

For a fleeting moment, Feng Qingzhuo’s gaze turned turbid. She looked down at her wound and, as if venting some self-destructive urge, began pressing her fingers into it with even greater force. Her sharp nails scraped against the skin again, as though she wanted to tear open the already bleeding wound completely to smear it with cooling ointment. Fresh bl00d welled up instantly, staining her fingers crimson.

Unconsciously, Feng Qingzhuo seemed to lose herself in a frenzy. A strange headache pulsed at her temples, and an irrational urge took hold—she wanted to reshape the ugly wound into something more beautiful. Maybe then, she thought, her dragon wouldn’t slip away from her again. As if possessed, she dragged her nails across the wound, smearing the bl00d on her shoulder into the shape of a small, crimson flower.

Suddenly, she felt a weight press against her knee, something tugging at her. Feng Qingzhuo looked down and, in the dim light, saw a pair of tiny black claws.

Chris was carefully pawing at her pant leg. The little dragon was filthy, covered in dust as if she’d been roughed up, but her eyes gleamed bright. With a hoarse voice, Chris called out, “A-Zhuo…”

Feng Qingzhuo startled, snapping out of her trance. She glanced at her “handiwork” and shuddered, not even daring to recite the calming mantra she usually relied on.

Instinctively, she hurriedly pulled her clothes back into place, afraid of frightening the dragon—or worse, driving her away. That would hurt too much.

Chris stared at the wound for a long time, making Feng Qingzhuo shift uncomfortably. But then—

The little dragon scrambled up her body in a few quick movements, suddenly yanking her clothes aside with surprising strength. Before Feng Qingzhuo could react, Chris leaned in and, with a barbed tongue, carefully licked away the bl00d, cleaning the crimson flower until not a trace remained.

Feng Qingzhuo: ?!!

The rough, spined tongue dragged over the wound where the bl00d had already dried into that delicate flower. Feng Qingzhuo’s entire body stiffened, not daring to move an inch. But Chris wasn’t done—she bit down, sinking her teeth into the injury, followed by sucking and more relentless licking, over and over.

“Chris!!!” Feng Qingzhuo hissed, her voice hoarser than ever. The tingling, electrifying sensation wracking her body made her tremble uncontrollably.

The sound startled Chris so badly she nearly lost her soul on the spot. The little dragon stiffened, only now realizing what she’d been doing. She licked her lips absently, the taste of bl00d heavy on her tongue.

“I—I—I!” Chris floundered, waving her claws and flapping her wings as she scrambled backward. But how could she explain this? Her claws were still tangled in Feng Qingzhuo’s robe, her tail caught in the woman’s grip, and bl00d smeared the corner of her mouth. It looked like a full-blown crime scene.

Chris fell silent.

But Feng Qingzhuo had already reached out, snatching the airborne dragon mid-flight. She lifted Chris by the tail, dangling her in the air. The little dragon weakly flailed her limbs—though, of course, it was futile.

“A-Zhuo, let me explain. It’s because you looked so frightening just now, your face was even a bit distorted, so I… I licked your wound.”

Feng Qingzhuo’s expression remained cold, unsure how to handle this lively little dragon squirming in her hands. Getting angry wouldn’t do—she’d only upset herself. Punishing the dragon wasn’t an option either—it would break her heart.

As the human and dragon were caught in their dispute, the golden compass kept by Chris suddenly fell to the ground with a dull thud.

“A-Zhuo, A-Zhuo, wait a moment,” Chris pleaded repeatedly, stretching out her claws to retrieve the golden compass. To their surprise, the previously spinning compass had now come to a stop, its needle obediently pointing straight ahead.

The two exchanged glances, both seeing astonishment in each other’s eyes.

Was this the so-called “searching far and wide only to find what’s right under your nose”?

Chris clutched the compass in her claws and turned in another direction to confirm the needle wasn’t malfunctioning. Yet the black needle steadfastly adjusted its position, always pointing forward.

Well then, this was definitely the right place!