Chapter 69: Resigned to Die

The sky grew darker. A light rain that had stopped just before afternoon started again.

For days now, Autumn Moon Market hadn’t seen the sun.

Near dusk, the Turtle Prime Minister from the Dragon Palace arrived with several water demons, delivering wine.

Chen Changsheng thought it wouldn’t be until tomorrow. He didn’t expect it so quickly.

The black hat atop Turtle Prime Minister’s head wobbled as he said, “Mr. Chen, the wine is here. This old turtle will now return to report.”

Chen Changsheng glanced at the dozens of wine jars and nodded. “Please thank the Dragon Lord for me.”

“Of course, of course…”

The Turtle Prime Minister clasped his hands in a farewell gesture, then left with the water demons.

After they were gone,

Chen Changsheng muttered to himself, “That Old Dragon King really holds a grudge. Sends all this wine but won’t help carry it in.”

He turned toward the courtyard and called to Tong Zhihuan and Tao’er. “Come help move the wine!”

Tong Zhihuan put down his work and followed Tao’er to the gate.

“So many!”

Staring at the dozens of jars, Tong Zhihuan gasped. “Sir, who sent all this?”

“The Dragon Lord of Tongtian River.”

Chen Changsheng said this as he walked back toward the temple.

Tong Zhihuan froze.

He turned to stare at Mr. Chen. After a long moment, he muttered blankly to himself.

“Who…?”

He blinked at the jars.

Miss Tao’er gave his head a light tap. “Silly boy. Move the wine. What are you standing around for?”

“Oh…right.”

Snapping to, Tong Zhihuan picked up a jar and looked at her. “Who did Mr. Chen say sent them?”

Tao’er answered, “The Dragon Lord of Tongtian River.”

Tong Zhihuan’s arm jerked. He nearly dropped the jar. His mouth hung open. “You mean… the Dragon Lord from the Dragon King Temple!?”

Miss Tao’er nodded. “Probably. He visited the temple before. You just weren’t here then.”

Tong Zhihuan swallowed hard. “True Dragons exist in this world…”

“Mm,” Tao’er said. “Flood Dragons exist, so True Dragons must too. Silly boy.”

“I guess… hey, I’m not silly!”

Tong Zhihuan just found it hard to accept. Remembering something else Mr. Chen had said, he asked, “But does the Dragon Lord actually live in the Tongtian River?”

Tao’er replied, “Why ask me? I wouldn’t know! Hurry up and move the wine, or it’ll be dark!”

Tong Zhihuan realized she was right.

Tao’er always stayed here. She wouldn’t know things like that.

He stopped asking questions, not wanting her to scold him again.

His heart whispered, Mr. Chen must be really important… to make the Dragon Lord send wine…

At this thought, his respect for Mr. Chen deepened further.

Their wine moving was going smoothly at first.

But then, the rain grew heavier. Soon, lightning began flashing across the sky.

Boom!

A huge clap of thunder startled Tong Zhihuan halfway through carrying a jar.

Whoosh…

A fierce wind slammed open the temple doors wide.

After placing the final jar inside, Tong Zhihuan sighed with relief, then looked outside.

Rain lashed into the courtyard, reaching two feet under the eaves.

“Why’d it suddenly get so heavy?”

He wiped rain from his head, saw the doors open, and moved to close them.

But Tao’er stopped him.

“Don’t!”

Her brow furrowed. “Go to the back courtyard! I’ll get Mr. Chen!”

“What’s wrong?”

Before he could understand, Tong Zhihuan gaped at the doorway.

The Flood Dragon!!

It was here again!

Tong Zhihuan gulped, fear rising in him once more.

“Go sit down inside.”

Chen Changsheng emerged from the temple hall.

“Sir…”

Tao’er called out, then tugged Tong Zhihuan’s sleeve toward the back courtyard.

Chen Changsheng stepped calmly into the rain. The raindrops didn’t touch his robe.

At the temple entrance, he faced the black flood dragon.

The dragon lowered its massive head. “Moyuan embarks on the Water Crossing over West Bridge tonight. I came to warn Mr. Chen not to be alarmed by the storm.”

Chen Changsheng asked, “The time draws near. Have you leisure to come here?”

Despair echoed in Moyuan’s voice. “After a thousand years of cultivation, enduring four Lightning Tribulations, I finally earned this chance. But deep down… I know I cannot pass West Bridge. Still, I couldn’t accept fate. That’s why I begged for your help the other day. Your refusal was fair.”

“I did not tell you the full truth then, fearing to lose my one chance. Crossing West Bridge is my destined death point. There is no escape. Please do not resent my earlier request. Think of it as granting a final wish to a dying dragon.”

Chen Changsheng listened, then said, “I bore no grudge over such a small matter.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Moyuan heaved a long sigh. Then, he opened his mighty jaws and spat out five red-gold droplets.

“These five drops of Primordial Dragon Blood are gifts of Heaven. Trapped within me, they are wasted. I offer them to you.”

Lowering his head in final respect, Moyuan breathed, “May your path to the Dao be swift. The time for my Tribulation has come. Farewell.”

With that, the black serpent wound its way down the mountain and plunged into the rushing river below.

Instantly, the river churned violently. Lightning bolts raked the sky.

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Another thunderclap lit the world in blinding white.

Chen Changsheng watched the black flood dragon vanish downstream. He stood silently, his expression thoughtful and distant.

Slowly, he turned his gaze back to the five shimmering Primordial Dragon Blood drops floating before him.

“You were resolved to die…”

He raised his hand, beckoning the precious drops onto his palm.

They pulsed with a regal aura—the Dragon’s Might. Treasures of the highest order.

Primordial Dragon Blood. It differed immensely from ordinary dragon blood.

The Primordial blood held the most pure essence from the moment of true dragon transformation—a gift born of Heaven. Common dragon blood was merely a remnant power—a pale, worldly thing.

Moreover, Moyuan hadn’t kept any for himself. All five ancestral drops were given away.

This meant that even if he succeeded in passing West Bridge, the power he sacrificed would leave him forever unable to achieve Dragon Ascension.

Chen Changsheng stored the five drops carefully. He lingered at the temple entrance. After a few heartbeats, a decision seemed made.

He lifted his hand, gesturing casually inward.

A sword resting silently within the temple hall—the Rain-Listening Sword—flew out. A streak of blue-green light, it landed soundlessly in his grasp.

Hummmm!

Its clear singing filled the temple courtyard.

Chen Changsheng sighed heavily. “A fed mouth falls quiet. A gift-given hand falls short. I have never liked owing debts.”

He took a single step. The entire scene around him seemed to shift like turned earth.

Truthfully… he had only needed a reason.

Even if that reason felt a little thin.