The moment Mu Wanwan heard the price Uncle Zong quoted, she began to reconsider.
Mr. Dragon still had not fully recovered. She estimated that he could only remain awake for a few hours each day. Rather than spending so many spirit stones on this, she might as well let him absorb them.
However, one thing Uncle Zong said made her hesitate.
“That man has a terrible temper and doesn’t care much about his appearance, but if he finds your idea interesting, he might charge you much less.”
And so, Mu Wanwan followed Uncle Zong through several winding alleys until they arrived outside a somewhat dilapidated little shop.
Uncle Zong told her to negotiate with the owner herself and come find him at the shop afterwards. The moment he finished speaking, he fled as though he were trying to avoid something.
Mu Wanwan knocked on the door.
The cramped shop was piled high with all kinds of materials, leaving almost nowhere to place her feet. The air was filled with dust and several rather unpleasant smells.
There, she saw the dwarf Uncle Zong had called “Uncle Tie,” holding a hammer in his hand.
Although cultivators were not particularly afraid of the cold, Mu Wanwan rarely saw anyone who would go bare-chested in such weather while wearing a pair of thick, heavy trousers.
Uncle Tie’s skin was pale green, and his face could hardly be considered attractive. A long scar stretched from his ear to his lips. His slightly protruding dark-brown, glass-like eyes were hidden beneath drooping eyelids, making him look rather frightening.
The exposed skin of his upper body was covered in scars of varying sizes. Occasionally, Mu Wanwan thought she saw wisps of black smoke flashing across him.
She blinked twice and wondered whether she had imagined it.
“What do you want?”
He raised his slightly cloudy eyes. His voice sounded like a broken bellows scraping against the wind.
“Senior.”
Mu Wanwan bowed to him. Before she could explain why she had come, something sliced through the air towards her like a sharp sword.
She instinctively tried to dodge, but failed.
The object struck her squarely, knocking her onto her bottom.
It did not particularly hurt. Mu Wanwan stared blankly for two seconds before finally seeing what had hit her.
It was… a small hammer?
“I hate it most when people call me ‘Senior.’ Call me Uncle Tie. If you’ve got something to say, hurry up and spit it out.”
Uncle Tie let out two hoarse chuckles. The pupils in his eyes trembled violently as he stared fixedly at her. Even the scar on his face seemed to come alive, making him look terrifying.
Mu Wanwan: “…”
She climbed to her feet, picked up the little hammer, and brushed the dust off it.
“Uncle Tie, I’d like to commission something that can help a person move around…”
Mu Wanwan briefly described her idea.
“My husband may have difficulty using his legs. His legs are also rather long, so I’d like the height to be adjustable.”
In truth, what Mu Wanwan wanted to say was that Mr. Dragon’s tail was rather long.
A standard modern wheelchair probably would not be able to accommodate him.
Just imagining Mr. Dragon, whose tail was already missing half its length, being forced into a wheelchair while the remainder of his tail dragged along the ground was hardly a pleasant thought.
“Oh.”
Without even raising his eyelids, Uncle Tie replied while the fingers gripping his hammer trembled slightly.
“One low-grade spirit stone. Come and collect it in three hours.”
“Huh?”
Mu Wanwan thought she had misheard.
“Uncle Tie, did you really say one low-grade spirit stone?”
Uncle Tie did not even look at her.
Seemingly growing impatient, he used another small hammer to shove her straight out of the shop.
Mu Wanwan fell onto the ground and stared dumbfounded at the tightly shut door before her.
Uncle Tie’s temperament was truly strange.
She had thought he disliked her, yet unexpectedly, he had only asked for a single low-grade spirit stone.
Mu Wanwan stood up and glanced at the grey, dusty sky.
Worried about the dragon and little chirp at home, she hurried off to make her purchases.
After all, she had promised Mr. Dragon that she would bring meat home.
Only after confirming that the person outside had walked far away did Uncle Tie suddenly hunch over.
The hammer that had never left his hand dropped to the floor, smashing out a huge crater. The materials stacked around him collapsed, instantly throwing the entire room into chaos.
But he no longer cared.
His eyes trembled violently.
She carried that person’s aura.
Even after so many years, he had never forgotten that figure standing amid a sea of blood.
Uncle Tie clutched his head as black demonic energy slowly seeped from his body.
There had been thousands of slaves back then. By now, there were probably very few still alive.
The moment Mu Wanwan stepped through the door, he had keenly sensed the aura clinging to her.
Uncle Tie was nearly a hundred years old. Naturally, he had seen through everything at a glance.
She had even said that she was that person’s wife.
And judging from her expression, her feelings seemed genuine.
Uncle Tie touched the wounds covering his body.
He could not say whether he felt gratitude or hatred towards that man.
After escaping, he had lived cautiously along the border. It was only after that man became the leader that Uncle Tie was finally able to live openly beneath the sunlight.
For that alone, he had to repay the favour.
Uncle Tie sighed softly and took out materials he had treasured for many years from his Spatial pouch.
He lifted the legs of his thick trousers, revealing a pair of mechanical legs, and began working with practised dexterity.
—
Meanwhile, Mu Wanwan sold all her vegetables and embroidered pouches, then purchased several more items.
Seeing that it was still early, she returned to Uncle Zong’s shop. She wanted to see whether any of the pills she had refined had been sold.
It was close to noon, and there were not many people around.
When Mu Wanwan entered carrying the basket that had once contained her vegetables, Uncle Zong happened to be negotiating with several customers.
Coincidentally, one of them was the female cultivator who had collected the entrance fee that morning.
Hearing footsteps, the woman turned and glanced at Mu Wanwan.
This time, she did not even bother concealing the blatant mockery in her eyes.
Uncle Zong smiled at Mu Wanwan. Before he had the chance to greet her, the female cultivator raised her eyebrows sharply.
“Shopkeeper, stop paying attention to irrelevant people and hurry up and package the pills for me.”
The moment she said this, Uncle Zong’s expression darkened.
The two male cultivators beside her also seemed to realise how unpleasant her tone had been and hurriedly smiled apologetically.
“Shopkeeper, our junior sister didn’t mean it. Please don’t take offence.”
Mu Wanwan was also extremely annoyed.
Of all the people she could encounter, it had to be someone she disliked.
She did not want to cause trouble for Uncle Zong, but unexpectedly, Uncle Zong sneered.
“Who exactly are you looking down on?”
The female cultivator knew that her words had been inappropriate, but she was accustomed to being flattered and indulged.
Seeing Uncle Zong rebuke her over a poor rogue cultivator who had just entered the shop immediately made her angry.
“What? I’m offering two mid-grade spirit stones for each bottle. Don’t merchants like you only care about making money?”
“Oh.”
Uncle Zong replied coldly, “Then we won’t be earning your money. Now hurry up and get lost.”
“Shopkeeper, don’t!”
One of the male cultivators immediately became anxious.
He was preparing to leave on an expedition soon, and the secret realm he planned to enter was filled with dangers. He had specifically come to purchase Spirit-Replenishing Pills.
The moment he saw the pills Uncle Zong had displayed, he had been captivated by them. He could tell at once that their quality was far superior to those sold by other shops.
Who could have expected his habitually arrogant and unreasonable junior sister to ruin everything?
“If I say I’m not selling, then I’m not selling! Are you planning to rob me?!”
Uncle Zong suddenly roared.
The faint image of an enormous lion’s head appeared behind him. The pressure belonging to a high-ranking beastkin spread through the shop, immediately terrifying the human cultivators who had been about to argue further.
The female cultivator was especially affected. Her entire face flushed scarlet.
“I’ll bring my master here to teach a savage beastkin like you a lesson!”
After leaving behind this threat, she fled.
The two male cultivators followed her dejectedly. One of them clenched his teeth in fury, a venomous light flashing through his eyes as he glared secretly from behind her.
Although Mu Wanwan felt extremely satisfied, she was also a little worried.
“Uncle Zong, will her master really come and cause trouble for you?”
Uncle Zong sneered.
“Her master can’t defeat your Uncle Chen.”
Mu Wanwan: “…”
She remained in Uncle Zong’s shop for a while.
After waiting an hour, only one customer arrived. He was an ordinarily dressed human cultivator who haggled for ages before finally gritting his teeth and spending one and a half mid-grade spirit stones on a bottle of pills.
After witnessing the entire process of Uncle Zong doing business, Mu Wanwan came to a conclusion.
As long as your fists were strong enough and you had pills, you really could do whatever you wanted! *(:з」∠)*
After taking a Spirit-Replenishing Pill and resting for a while, Aunt Yun had also recovered somewhat.
She happily told Mu Wanwan that the pills she had refined could lessen the curse to a certain degree and were even more effective than directly consuming spiritual fruits.
Mu Wanwan now had a clearer understanding of their effectiveness.
After arranging to meet Uncle Zong again in ten days, she prepared to visit the Xianqing Pavilion and post a message.
“Lass, wait.”
Just as she was about to leave, Aunt Yun suddenly called out to her.
Mu Wanwan stopped and looked back.
Aunt Yun smiled, her eyes soft and gentle.
“Come here. Give me your hand.”
Mu Wanwan did not know what she intended to do but obediently extended her hand.
In the next instant, a sharp pain came from her fingertip.
Aunt Yun quickly took a pendant from her pocket and allowed it to absorb the drop of blood from Mu Wanwan’s finger.
She then placed the pendant around Mu Wanwan’s neck.
“It’s a little trinket that can conceal your cultivation. I have no use for it, so you should take it. Don’t thank me. If you do, I’ll become angry.”
Mu Wanwan: “…”
Every word she had intended to say became lodged in her throat. She could neither speak nor swallow them back down.
Aunt Yun’s expression was gentle.
Her kindness towards Mu Wanwan felt far purer than that of the orphanage director from her previous life, leaving Mu Wanwan unsure of how to respond.
“Stop thinking about it. Hurry up and go. Uncle Tie doesn’t like people who arrive late.”
Seeing Mu Wanwan standing frozen in place, Uncle Zong directly chased her out without the slightest politeness.
Mu Wanwan’s heart felt a little sore.
She could only clutch the pendant and nod.
She spent two mid-grade spirit stones and three curse-cleansing Spirit-Replenishing Pills to post a message at the Xianqing Pavilion, preparing to contact Jiu Qing the next time she came out.
By the time she collected the wheelchair from Uncle Tie and spent half the day walking back to the marketplace entrance to find Hongye, snow had begun falling from the sky.
White snowflakes resembling soft little feathers landed on her face, carrying a biting chill.
It was snowing.
Mr. Dragon was still wearing only thin inner robes, and the feathers on Mengmeng’s wings were still somewhat sparse.
The pale-grey clouds were reflected in Mu Wanwan’s eyes, dark and gloomy.
“Madam, let’s hurry back.”
Hongye’s voice rang out clearly.
Mu Wanwan nodded.
Wearing the cheap bamboo hat she had just purchased for three silver coins, Mu Wanwan climbed onto the ox cart and began hurrying home.
She wondered what Mr. Dragon was doing now.
Would he be looking forward to the delicious food she had bought?
What expression would he make when she took out the lightweight, foldable wheelchair Uncle Tie had created, capable of transforming into three different configurations?
Just thinking about it filled her with anticipation.
While Mu Wanwan hurried home, Mr. Dragon was playing a game with Mengmeng.
More precisely, Mr. Dragon was “playing with” Mengmeng.
With his wife away, he had a rare opportunity to move freely without pretending to be unconscious, even though every step felt as painful as walking over the tips of needles.
Sitting in Mu Wanwan’s personal chair, Mr. Dragon held the plump chirp by the scruff of its neck with one hand while supporting his chin with the other.
He carelessly rolled it back and forth.
Watching the little bird tumble awkwardly onto the cushion, struggle to climb back up, and then attempt to bite his finger was rather amusing. =w=
In truth, Mr. Dragon had long been displeased by how much his wife spoiled this fat little chirp.
Mengmeng had an excellent bloodline. Although it was still a hatchling, it had already begun displaying several abilities.
However, it did not exercise enough, and its personality was far too soft and lazy. All it did each day was chirp coquettishly, act spoiled, and compete with him for his wife’s affection.
It was truly irritating.
Mr. Dragon lowered his eyelids slightly.
His long, slender fingers skilfully avoided wave after wave of Mengmeng’s attacks.
The fat chirp became so furious that it simply used its weight advantage. It suddenly pounced, clinging tightly to his finger and refusing to let go while pecking at his fingertip with its tender yellow beak.
“…”
Mr. Dragon narrowed his eyes and allowed it to cling to him.
Then he rotated his wrist, spinning Mengmeng until the bird became thoroughly dizzy and disoriented.
“Chirp…”
Mengmeng felt terribly wronged.
Mengmeng was about to cry.
Why did this terrible dragon always bully this chirp whenever Wanwan was away?
This chirp could not take it anymore!
Mr. Dragon watched as it turned its bottom towards him.
A fleeting smile appeared at the corners of his lips.
His dark phoenix eyes seemed to sweep carelessly towards the window as he suppressed the faint sense of expectation in his heart.
It was still early.
It had not been long at all.
He only needed to look at the spiritual plants she had personally grown.
The flower bud of the final Snow Condensation plant quietly spread its tender leaves on the windowsill.
The room was extremely tidy, and everything had been arranged neatly in its proper place.
Mr. Dragon sat on her stool and waited for a long time.
He waited from daylight until the sky became densely covered in clouds.
He waited until Mengmeng was no longer angry and had fallen asleep from exhaustion against the back of his hand.
He waited until snowflakes began drifting beyond the window, floating gently down one by one as though they were landing upon his heart.
She had left in a hurry today.
She had not taken an umbrella.
“Are you cold?”
The slightly icy voice suddenly rang out, yet it sounded like melting snow, its meaning unclear.
Still half asleep, Mengmeng rubbed against the back of his hand and gave a tiny chirp.
Mengmeng was saying that Mengmeng was not cold.
A low, hoarse laugh sounded inside the room.
In an instant, it faded away.
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