Chapter 218
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Chapter 218: Title
Zhao Hanxuan: "Is there truly a dragon in Yunmeng Marsh?"
Detecting the odd inflection in his tone, Ye Zi Chu laughed softly. "Who can say? Though this young master certainly witnessed none."
"Dragons dwell solely in myths and legends. Should one manifest, chaos would surely follow," Ye Zi Chu declared, flourishing his fan with practiced elegance.
Ao Lan, eavesdropping shamelessly while blowing iridescent bubbles, stifled a sigh. Mortals and their limited perspectives. Yet this observation confirmed his suspicion—no divine beings graced this world, else his kin wouldn’t be relegated to mere folklore.
Though bearing youthful features and an impish demeanor, Ao Lan possessed sharp perception. Yesterday’s aerial survey while concealed in dragon form had revealed a city startlingly reminiscent of ancient Huaxia.
Modern society’s television dramas—some frivolous, others enlightening—had broadened his understanding of mortal realms.
"Hanxuan, beneath those lotus leaves—does a golden carp lurk?"
The scholar’s voice snapped Ao Lan to attention. The fan-wielding posture reminded him faintly of Xingwen, though that esteemed Practitioner carried himself with far more gravitas.
Familiarity with the Special Bureau’s members came naturally—not only through his dragon heritage, but via his Second Brother’s frequent collaborations. Coupled with his own disarming charm, Ao Lan had effortlessly befriended most prominent Practitioners.
Feeling dual gazes upon him, Ao Lan resumed his carp charade.
Scattered like petals in the wind, numerous souls besides himself had been cast into the Heavenly Inquiry World. Of ten thousand vanished, half found themselves here—five thousand souls dispersed across unknown lands, isolated by language barriers and unfamiliarity.
For beings like Ao Lan who transcended mortal speech, humanity’s frailties seemed particularly pronounced…
As Ao Lan summoned torrents over Yueyang City’s Yunmeng Lake, a thousand miles away in remote Anbei County, sinister currents stirred.
Here reigned a corrupt county magistrate, his tyranny unchallenged. Thirty li beyond the county seat, two travelers trudged along a desolate road.
"Miss," fretted the maid in menial attire, her voice betraying feminine timbre, "When the master discovers our flight—"
"Address me as Young Master!" The slender scholar’s glare softened delicate features. "Another slip and I’ll abandon you to the storm."
Ji Yutong sighed. Were it not for fearing her father’s retribution against Xiaomei, she’d never have burdened herself with this simpleton. The magistrate’s lecherous son as husband? Unthinkable. Her escape had been meticulously planned—gold sewn into hems, routes memorized from adventure scrolls.
"Young Master," Xiaomei quavered, eyes scanning the ominous clouds, "Where do we go?"
"To the capital." Ji Yutong’s eyes sparkled. "My elder brother dotes on me. He’d never permit this match with that notorious playboy." Her fan snapped shut. "Consider this our grand adventure!"
As they spoke, the darkening clouds above suddenly split with a thunderous crack, sending heavy raindrops pelting down until the sky unleashed its full fury within moments.
"It’s a deluge! Miss, what shall we do?"
Ji Yutong shielded her head with her bundle. "Uncle Li mentioned an abandoned temple beyond the county borders…"
The pair sprinted through the downpour until the crumbling silhouette of a temple emerged through the rain-curtain. They scrambled beneath its sagging eaves, finding partial shelter in the derelict structure.
"Thank heavens Uncle Li wasn’t exaggerating," Ji Yutong gasped, wringing rainwater from her sleeves. Her outer robe clung heavily, strands of hair plastered against her flushed cheeks. "We’d have been drenched through otherwise."
"Allow me, Young Master." Xiaomei produced a handkerchief, fingers trembling slightly as she dabbed her mistress’ face.
Their respite proved brief – footsteps splashed through puddles as a bedraggled scholar stumbled into the temple, his traveling pack dripping. He bowed formally despite his disheveled state. "This humble traveler begs shelter from the storm."
Xiaomei froze, but Ji Yutong mirrored his courtesy with practiced ease. "All wayfarers share this refuge, sir. Please enter."
The scholar’s grateful smile revealed even teeth as he settled near the temple’s driest corner. Soon crackling flames danced between gathered kindling, casting wavering light across the decaying murals. Removing his soaked outer robe, he gestured invitingly. "The fire welcomes all, should you care to dry your garments."
Ji Yutong studied his open countenance before rising. When Xiaomei plucked nervously at her sleeve, she murmured reassurance. Choosing a spot strategically distant yet within the fire’s warmth, she broke the silence with conversational ease. "Since we’re storm-bound together, perhaps stories might lighten the wait? I’m Ji Yu, of the Hezi clan."
"Su Ning of Zhengzhou," the scholar returned amiably. "A wanderer who trades dusty tomes for dusty roads."
As their voices mingled with the rain’s staccato rhythm, the temple gradually filled with woodcutters shaking water from bundled faggots, hunters cursing damp powder, and wayfarers exchanging weather-worn proverbs. Among them, a broad-shouldered man drew Ji Yutong’s eye – his coarse tunic strained over corded arms, the white-wrapped burden across his back hinting at concealed steel.
"June skies change faster than a courtesan’s favor," grumbled a woodcutter by the entrance.
"These clouds mean to drown us proper," another countered, eyeing the relentless downpour.
Unseen atop a sagging crossbeam, the Ghost in Red observed the gathering. Since her abrupt arrival from Zhongxia’s exchange meeting, this world had proven hostile – sunlight seared her essence, daylight confinement chafed, and now thunder rattled her tier two cultivation base. Yet as twilight deepened, she felt the unseen barrier weakening, her comprehension of the foreign tongue gradually clarifying like ink dispersing in water.
The cultivator’s crimson sleeves fluttered imperceptibly as she noted each traveler’s face. Soon, the storm outside would become the least of their concerns.
