It was already very late, and the force of late autumn was gradually making itself known. As Mu Wanwan stood on the floor, she could feel the chill creeping up through the boards. She glanced at Mr. Dragon, who was lying quietly on the bed, then at the thick mattress beneath him and the jade bed itself. Her heart tangled with hesitation.
Speaking of which, it was rather strange. The bed in Mr. Dragon’s room was made of some unknown material. It looked like a jade bed, yet it was not cold like jade should be. Instead, it gave off a slight warmth, making it very comfortable to sleep on…
The more Mu Wanwan thought about it, the more tempted she became. By the time she came back to her senses, she had already walked to the bedside.
There was only one lamp lit in the room, placed on the table beside the bed. Through its shade, it cast a soft glow. As the saying went, beauty looked even better under lamplight—and Mu Wanwan’s gaze unconsciously drifted to Mr. Dragon’s face.
There had originally been loose strands of hair on his forehead, but earlier, when she had washed his face, she had found them troublesome and pushed them aside. Two long locks of hair now hung by his temples. His face was covered in strange markings, yet even so, his handsome features could still faintly be made out.
He was a very good-looking dragon.
Mu Wanwan thought, really, very good-looking.
And right now, he still could not move. A gentleman should not take advantage of someone in danger, so she should not sleep in the same quilt as Mr. Dragon.
Mu Wanwan sighed, helped Mr. Dragon tuck the blanket properly around him, found a few slightly thicker pieces of clothing to put on, and then climbed onto the bed in a rather dejected manner.
Fortunately, this jade bed was not very cold. Sleeping here was much better than lying over the table…
Anyway, if the weather was good tomorrow, the quilt and mattress should be dry. She would just make do for one night. It was not a big deal.
Mu Wanwan lay on her side, not daring to look at Mr. Dragon lying beside her, and slowly closed her eyes.
But she did not know whether Heaven was playing a joke on her. When Mu Wanwan woke the next day with an aching back and sore waist, she heard the patter of rain coming from outside the room.
It was raining.
Mu Wanwan rubbed her head in some distress. Fortunately, she had brought both the quilt and mattress inside last night. Otherwise, she would have had to wait several more days.
She got up to wash and tidy herself. After searching for a long time, she finally found an oil-paper umbrella with one corner missing in a side hall. Holding the umbrella, she moved between the main hall and the side hall to make breakfast and lunch.
She had actually woken up a little late today, so she might as well make brunch. It was a pity she had not managed to eat meat yesterday. Why not cook spirit-pig bone soup for lunch? Once Mu Wanwan had decided on the dishes, she began to work.
The vegetables she had bought from the market were all very good. Feng and Lan’er, the pair of elf siblings, were quite skilled at caring for vegetables. Even after being left overnight, the leaves had not wilted much.
Back when she had lived in the modern world, she had lived alone and had developed decent cooking skills. She could not be called a chef, but she was fine with ordinary home-cooked dishes, and she was not slow at cooking either.
The palace in the rain seemed a little more mysterious than usual. Mu Wanwan held the umbrella as she walked from the side hall to the main hall, passing through the corridor and across the courtyard. Just as she was almost at the door of the room, her foot slipped. She nearly lost her balance, and the umbrella fell straight to the ground.
Mu Wanwan protected the food box with one hand and scraped the other hard against the wall. The wall was not very smooth, and unluckily, she scraped against an edge. Almost instantly, the skin on her palm broke, and blood appeared.
She could not help crying out in pain. A few drops of rainwater slid down from her scalp, obscuring her vision. Mu Wanwan reached up and wiped herself in a sorry state. Before she could pick up the umbrella from the ground, she felt as though a figure had appeared before her blurred eyes—
He had long black hair like silk, loosely draped over his shoulders. He wore a moon-white silk robe, and a pair of broken, damaged horns rested on his head. The rain blurred his silhouette, and Mu Wanwan could only clearly see that pair of long, narrow phoenix eyes, as dark as ink, looking straight at her. With just one glance, he scattered into the rain like dust.
Was it… Mr. Dragon?
Had she hallucinated?
Mu Wanwan felt a faint sourness in her heart. She rubbed her eyes, then foolishly looked toward the doorway several more times. There was nothing there. Not the slightest shadow of any dragon.
She really was… As expected, these days had been too fantastical, to the point that she was now hallucinating. Mu Wanwan laughed at herself as she picked up the umbrella from the ground, unable to describe the faint disappointment in her heart, and entered the room in a rather dishevelled state—
That dragon was still lying obediently on the bed!
Mu Wanwan could not describe what she felt. She only sighed, took a handkerchief, and silently walked to the side to dry her hair.
She wiped her hair in silence and did not notice Mr. Dragon’s pale fingers trembling faintly. Nor did she notice him painfully swallowing a mouthful of blood.
He had woken up early and had been quietly listening to the sounds of her moving around. He had even been unable to resist releasing a strand of divine consciousness, letting it cling to the corner of her clothes as he followed her while she washed clothes, cooked, searched for an umbrella, and folded garments. Only at the instant when her hand scraped against the wall had he failed to restrain himself and overestimated his own strength, revealing his form.
But he had only managed to maintain it for a short moment. He had not even been able to look at her properly before he was suppressed and scattered.
He really was the most useless dragon.
Mr. Dragon thought that he could not even see her with his own eyes, could not even help her up when she fell.
For the first time, Mr. Dragon hated that past self of his who had, for some ridiculous reason, fought seven opponents alone. If he had not been injured, would he perhaps not be like this now, unable to even look at her?
Mu Wanwan only thought that what she had just seen was her own hallucination. She never imagined that it had truly been Mr. Dragon. After drying her hair, she changed into another outer robe. After thinking for a moment, she still took Mr. Dragon’s medicinal ointment and said softly, “Mr. Dragon, I’m going to use a little of your ointment. Since the injury is on my hand, it’s a bit inconvenient for doing things.”
She scooped out a small bit of ointment and rubbed it over her painful hand. Very quickly, the wound there healed. She closed the lid, let out a breath of relief, then opened the food box. Seeing that the bone soup had been well protected and was still steaming fragrant, her mood improved a little.
“Mr. Dragon, I bought bones.” Mu Wanwan picked up the bowl and began her daily routine of feeding the dragon. “It should taste pretty good.”
But this time, for some unknown reason, Mr. Dragon kept his lips pressed tightly together and did not cooperate by swallowing as he had before.
Mu Wanwan poked him several times with the spoon. The bright, rich broth was almost flowing down his chin, yet Mr. Dragon still did not drink.
Mu Wanwan felt that something was wrong. She held the bowl and took a small sip herself. She had to admit, spirit-pig bones were extremely delicious. With just a tiny sip, her mouth was filled with fresh savouriness, and there was also the faintest trace of spiritual energy, so weak it was almost imperceptible. At the very least, it proved there was nothing wrong with her cooking.
Why was Mr. Dragon resisting so much? Wasn’t Mr. Dragon supposed to be a vegetable dragon?
Mu Wanwan simply set the bowl aside and said, “Forgive my offence.”
Then she reached out, pinched Mr. Dragon’s chin, and half-forced him to open his mouth.
The moment he opened his mouth, Mu Wanwan was badly frightened. A great deal of fresh blood spilled from the corner of his lips and dripped onto the pillow. The blood seemed impossible to stop, warm and sticky as it covered her entire hand.
For a moment, she went completely blank, her whole body trembling. She hurriedly let go of the hand gripping Mr. Dragon’s chin and had no more thoughts of drinking any spirit-pig bone soup. She rushed to the box, picked up the old ginseng root that was of poor quality but still the best one they had, and with shaking hands cut off a large slice. Then, in an almost rough manner, she stuffed it into Mr. Dragon’s mouth.
“Mr. Dragon, Mr. Dragon…” Mu Wanwan called his name in a low voice, speaking in panic as though chanting an incantation. “Stop bleeding quickly, stop bleeding quickly.”
She really was anxious. Yesterday his tail had rotted, and today he was vomiting blood again. Mu Wanwan felt that her little heart was not strong enough to be toyed with by this dragon. The book had written that he would wake up, but it had not described much about how miserable these three years were for him. She had only thought that she should be able to take care of him, but she had never expected his condition to be this severe, this tragic.
So tragic that she was almost unable to give up on him anymore.
She did not know whether her prayers had worked, but Mr. Dragon’s bleeding finally stopped. Mu Wanwan, still uneasy, waited a little longer. Seeing that his complexion gradually improved and that he truly was no longer vomiting blood, she finally relaxed.
Her hands were sticky, covered entirely in his blood. The pillow had also been dirtied by him. Tonight, even her only pillow would have to be sacrificed to him.
Raising a dragon was really so troublesome qwq. And it made one so worried and restless that one could not feel at ease.
Mu Wanwan sighed, changed his pillow for him, washed her hands clean, gently wiped the bloodstains from his face, and cut another smaller slice of ginseng to replace the one in his mouth. Only then did she have time to sit down and eat her own lunch.
The soup had already gone cold. Because she had been worried about Mr. Dragon, she did not eat much either. She only felt that, for some reason, perhaps because it had been stained by Mr. Dragon’s blood, the soup tasted completely different from when she had tasted it earlier. It was terribly fishy and not delicious at all.
And it had been so expensive too.
She would never buy it again next time. Mu Wanwan frowned, unable to stop herself from worrying.
Mr. Dragon’s injuries were even more serious than she had imagined. If she did not work harder and earn some money in the next few days, then by the next time she went to the market, not only would Mr. Dragon run out of spirit stones, she would have no money left for food either.
**Author’s note:**
Mu Wanwan: “The heavy burden of supporting this household is crushing me.”
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