Mr. Dragon lightly moved his fingertips and touched the soft fabric.
Was this the new inner robe she had bought for him?
His heart stirred. The image of her from before appeared in his mind. She had looked even more beautiful than when he had secretly watched her with his spiritual consciousness, like ink slowly spreading through water. Even her voice had been just as gentle.
An unfamiliar emotion welled up inside him.
Mr. Dragon tugged at his sleeve, his face reddening.
His wife had most likely dressed him in these clothes too.
But why had she only dressed his upper body?
His lower half had been left untouched, with the torn pale-blue robe from before still wrapped around his waist.
Since she was not in the room, Mr. Dragon felt much more relaxed.
He secretly lifted the quilt and glanced at the fabric tightly tied around his waist, feeling both amused and embarrassed.
Perhaps she had also been too shy to change the clothes on his lower body?
That made sense.
He was no longer in his half-dragon form. If she lifted the cloth and saw something improper, it would hardly be appropriate.
The tips of his ears burned.
A certain dragon struggled to move his legs, and waves of sharp pain immediately spread through them.
Although he had survived the curse’s backlash and painfully managed to reconnect the fifth fragment of his origin core, his spiritual power was still severely depleted.
He had lost consciousness immediately that day. Over the past several days, most of his meridians had finally reconnected.
For the time being, he was still short of spiritual energy. His legs, which had been transformed from the tail directly afflicted by the curse, could not yet move.
As long as he rested for another three to five days, he should recover half of his strength.
By then, no one below the sixth rank would be his opponent.
Combined with some of his more unusual abilities, he would also possess a certain degree of power to protect himself against Ao Qin, who had yet to obtain the treasure from the forbidden grounds.
He could no longer covet warmth or cling to the sunlight.
He had to begin carrying out his plan soon.
His plan to leave her.
The faint sweetness that had just arisen in his heart vanished instantly, replaced by an indescribable bitterness.
Three partially absorbed mid-grade spirit stones rested beside the bed.
His lips still felt slightly moist. The bloody scabs covering his body had fallen away, and he had been cleaned thoroughly.
She had taken excellent care of him.
Dark thoughts spread through his heart.
He desperately wanted to selfishly trap her beside him so that she could never leave.
In the end, he could not escape the greedy nature of dragons.
Once he received even the smallest amount, he would never be satisfied. He would long for more and more, without even wanting to consider the other person’s wishes.
Mr. Dragon laughed softly.
It was an unpleasant smile.
There was a strong possibility that once he left on this journey, he would never return.
Before leaving, he wanted to rest a little longer.
To indulge himself a little longer.
To look at her once more.
Mr. Dragon leaned halfway against the warm-jade bed, thick mist concealed within his narrow phoenix eyes as he gazed through the open window.
The sunlight outside was beautiful.
The snow had stopped, and the smell of blood had faded considerably.
She stood beneath the sunlight with her sleeves rolled up, exposing her fair wrists. The green-jade bracelet reflected the light, its brilliance imprinting itself within his eyes.
Mr. Dragon watched as she raised the corners of her lips and gently closed her eyes.
A moment later, many scales of different sizes floated around her.
Their colours ranged from withered yellow to gold. They hovered beside her before lining up and dropping one after another into a basket nearby.
Was she cleaning the courtyard?
Guilt rose inside him.
Mr. Dragon pressed his lips together.
He had left the courtyard in complete chaos and even destroyed all the seedlings his wife had worked so hard to grow.
Would she be angry?
His scales were quite heavy.
Even though she had reached the third rank, collecting them with spiritual power must still be exhausting.
Mr. Dragon withdrew his gaze and examined the pitiful amount of spiritual power remaining inside him.
In the end, he could not bear to let her work so hard.
He picked up one of the spirit stones beside him and moved his fingertips slightly.
Therefore, when Mu Wanwan prepared to use her spiritual power to clear another section of the courtyard, she was extremely surprised to discover that the previously heavy scales had suddenly become much lighter.
She used far less spiritual power than before and finished gathering them easily.
Such an abnormal occurrence could not possibly be ignored.
Mu Wanwan was not foolish either.
She struggled to maintain a calm expression as a suspicion formed inside her.
Perhaps Mr. Dragon was already awake.
Perhaps he was secretly helping her clean the courtyard.
An unfamiliar emotion rose within her.
Mu Wanwan’s cheeks warmed, and even her movements became smaller and more restrained, as though she were trying to maintain a good image.
It took her approximately an hour to collect the scales from the final three sections.
Including those she had gathered earlier, there were five full baskets.
Three baskets had already been washed clean. Although some of the scales were withered and yellow, they still looked beautiful, gleaming golden beneath the sunlight.
Normally, she should have returned to the room to rest briefly, check on Mr. Dragon, and then fetch water to wash the remaining scales.
The scales were extremely hard and were dragon scales, after all. They might prove useful.
However, having guessed that a certain dragon was already awake, Mu Wanwan did not particularly want to return immediately.
She did not know how she should face this nominal “husband” of hers.
When they met properly for the first time, how was she supposed to address him?
Surely she could not continue calling him Mr. Dragon?
Mu Wanwan washed the scales while her thoughts ran wild.
Inside the room, Mr. Dragon’s face had grown somewhat pale from expending spiritual power, and he felt slightly embarrassed.
A dragon’s scales could not simply be taken without permission.
Did she know that?
However, if she truly liked his scales, she could keep them.
The scales that had fallen off were still sufficiently hard. Some even carried traces of poison, so perhaps they could serve as useful defensive weapons.
As long as she liked them.
Mr. Dragon thought silently as he half-closed his eyes and absorbed the spirit stones beside him.
In truth, the torn fabric around his waist was rather uncomfortable.
However, he currently lacked the strength to move, and he could hardly remain naked.
He would simply have to tolerate it for now.
When she returned, would she take care of him?
A trace of expectation rose uncontrollably within him.
Mr. Dragon’s eyelashes trembled as he waited quietly.
…
Mu Wanwan delayed for some time, deliberately washing the scales as slowly as possible.
However, she would eventually have to enter the room.
Avoiding the situation forever was not an option. Sooner or later, she would need to face Mr. Dragon properly.
The thought that they might have to speak made her nervous.
Had she and Mr. Dragon merely been ordinary friends, she would not have felt so awkward.
The main problem was that she possessed another identity.
She was his wife.
Mu Wanwan slowly walked towards the room, feeling increasingly panicked.
Based on what she had learned about this world, the wives of powerful experts at Mr. Dragon’s level were usually formidable cultivators themselves.
At the very least, they would possess extraordinary talent.
Dragons rarely married humans.
One reason was that they were incompatible in many different senses.
Another was that human lifespans were generally very short.
Even a third-rank human cultivator could only live for several hundred years, while dragons—even those at only the first rank—could survive for thousands.
Mu Wanwan felt increasingly nervous.
She reminded herself that Mr. Dragon was different from other dragons.
Deep inside, he was soft-hearted and cautious…
The door opened.
The dragon who had been pretending to rest immediately became alert.
He feigned calmness and glanced towards the door, directly meeting Mu Wanwan’s reddened cheeks and slightly evasive gaze.
He grew even more nervous.
His ears stood upright and trembled faintly.
“Mr—”
Mu Wanwan made a mistake the moment she opened her mouth.
The hand supporting her against the door stiffened.
“M-My Lord.”
“Y-You’re awake.”
She spoke haltingly.
A person who normally had no trouble speaking had suddenly forgotten how to form sentences.
Mr. Dragon heard his wife awkwardly call him “My Lord” in a voice softer and gentler than usual.
His chest grew warm, and beneath the quilt, his hand tightened around the fabric of his robe.
He calmly withdrew his gaze and merely answered, “Mm.”
Mu Wanwan: “…”
Was this dragon simply not planning to speak?
She had no idea what to say to him either!
Was this the legendary awkward conversation that ended the moment it began? *(:з」∠)*
Her fingers curled.
Mu Wanwan cautiously asked, “M-May I come inside?”
Mr. Dragon raised his eyes.
This time, he did not speak at all. He merely gave a small nod to indicate his permission.
Mu Wanwan’s scalp tingled from nervousness.
Returning to her room had always been an entirely ordinary action, yet now everything felt strange.
She secretly glanced at Mr. Dragon, who sat halfway upright beside the bed.
His eyes were slightly lowered, as though he were resting.
Mu Wanwan looked at his back resting directly against the wall and the thin fabric covering his body.
Something suddenly flashed through her mind.
Oh no!
Was Mr. Dragon still not wearing any trousers?
Several days ago, his condition had been extremely poor, so she had not dressed him at first.
Later, the upper half of his body healed quickly. After cleaning him, she had casually slipped an inner robe over his torso.
However, because the condition of his legs had continued worsening, she had not put any clothes on his lower body.
Her heart felt as though a cat were scratching it.
She was restless and uncomfortable.
She desperately wanted to dress Mr. Dragon properly, yet she also wanted to see whether the dragon would mention the matter himself.
Mu Wanwan slowly entered the room and awkwardly walked towards the table.
The fluffy chirp had awakened after sleeping for a while.
It sensed nothing unusual about the atmosphere and demanded its usual affectionate rubs.
Mu Wanwan quietly sighed in relief.
Thank goodness Mengmeng was here.
Otherwise, she truly would not know what to do.
It would soon be time to eat.
Mr. Dragon would surely have to speak to her then.
At that point, she could bring up the matter of his clothing herself without making it seem too abrupt.
That was what Mu Wanwan thought.
However, even after she waited for a long time, a certain dragon continued sitting there with an expression that said, *I remain unmoved no matter what happens.*
Had his eyes not been open, Mu Wanwan might have mistaken him for a stone statue.
In reality, the dragon was also extremely nervous.
He was waiting for his wife to speak to him.
Beneath the quilt, he had nearly torn the bedsheet with his grip.
The room became strangely silent.
One human and one dragon both waited for the other to speak first, as though competing to see who possessed greater patience.
After waiting for nearly half an hour, Mu Wanwan could no longer sit still.
Gathering her courage, she stood.
Under a certain dragon’s seemingly casual gaze, she stammered, “M-My Lord, a-are you cold?”
Under his wife’s apparently expectant gaze, Mr. Dragon struggled internally for a long time.
Should he say he was cold so that she would bring him clothes, allowing him to speak with her?
Or should he say he was not cold, displaying his strong physique while maintaining his distant and aloof attitude?
He felt as though two dragons had appeared on his shoulders.
The bad dragon said, *You’re cold because you desperately want to speak to her.*
The good dragon said, *You’re not cold because you’re a dragon who wants what is best for her. You must keep your distance.*
He remained silent for so long that Mu Wanwan’s heart slowly sank.
Disappointment appeared faintly between her brows.
Mr. Dragon noticed it.
Pressing his lips together, he answered in an extremely quiet voice.
“Mm.”
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