Chapter 61: Allow Me to Speak a Single Word to You
“Who is this young girl?”
The Southern delegation had come to the capital as guests, and by all rights, they should not have taken the initiative to ask questions. However, the woman veiled in white gauze was acquainted with the teachers and students of the Thirteen Leagues of Radiant Star, and was also an old acquaintance of Xu Shiji. Sensing the strange atmosphere in the hall, she asked a single question.
Most of the people in the hall had attended the first night of the Ivy Banquet. How could they not recognize the young girl who had beaten Tianhai Yae into a cripple? Hearing the guest’s question, someone said, “She is a student of the National Academy. For some reason, she arrived a bit late.”
Upon hearing this, the woman from Saintess Peak let out a soft exclamation, as if somewhat surprised. The three young men with swords resting across their knees simultaneously raised their heads, their gazes falling on Luoluo. Their eyes suddenly became extremely sharp, like unsheathed treasured swords.
Far away in the South, people also knew that the National Academy had long been abandoned. On the road recently, they had heard about what happened on the first night of the Ivy Banquet, and only then learned that the National Academy had gained two new students this year. Was this young girl the sudden prodigy who had appeared?
The three young men from Li Mountain were said to be three of the legendary Seven Laws of the Divine Kingdom. In their view, defeating Tianhai Yae was naturally nothing remarkable, but for a girl of such a young age to be this powerful was indeed worthy of attention.
Gou Hanshi also raised his head to glance at Luoluo, but he only smiled gently, appearing not too concerned.
Luoluo paid no heed to the stares from the three Li Mountain youths. The Seven Laws of the Divine Kingdom were naturally impressive, but at this moment, all her focus was on Gou Hanshi. She could sense it very clearly—this person was truly extraordinary. She was no match for him. What about her master? Could he defeat him?
The hall fell silent for a moment. Her standing at the palace gate seemed somewhat conspicuous.
Xu Shiji said coldly, “Since you arrived late, you have already been discourteous. Why don’t you sit down quickly and stop making a spectacle for our guests to laugh at!”
Hearing these utterly unceremonious words, Prince Chenliu was momentarily startled, then smiled. He thought to himself that Xu Shiji still hadn’t guessed this young girl’s true identity. It seemed that no matter how much Her Majesty the Empress trusted him, it was limited—far less than Xue Xingchuan.
Prince Chenliu turned his gaze to Mao Qiuyu, the Dean of the Heavenly Academy. At this moment, only the two of them in the hall knew Luoluo’s true identity. He saw Mao Qiuyu’s expression solemn, as if he knew nothing. Suddenly, his heart stirred, and he turned to look at Cardinal Merisa, only to see the Cardinal’s eyes half-closed, as if he were about to fall asleep.
“The elders really do have steady nerves…”
Prince Chenliu sighed. He was well aware that the Cardinal kept his thoughts deeply hidden; he had probably guessed Luoluo’s identity long ago.
Luoluo glanced at Xu Shiji. If it were any other time, and someone dared to berate her like this, she would never let it slide. Don’t be fooled by how obedient and sweet she was in front of Chen Changsheng—when she truly turned fierce, hadn’t even the Princess of Peace been afraid?
But tonight was a special occasion. Her hand tightened around the brocade pouch hidden in her sleeve, recalling Chen Changsheng’s earlier instructions. She took a deep breath, suppressed all her anger, and without a word to Xu Shiji, walked directly toward the National Academy’s seat in the corner.
Just then, ceremonial music arose, and the curtains rustled softly. Under the escort of over a dozen eunuchs and palace maids, a woman in resplendent court attire slowly entered the hall.
It was none other than Mo Yu.
Though she wielded immense power in the Great Zhou Dynasty, she had no official public status. By all logic, she should have been more low-key. But here in the front hall of the imperial palace, everyone knew she represented Her Majesty the Empress. How could they remain seated? One by one, they rose to welcome her.
The hundreds of people in the hall all stood up, including the major figures of the Southern delegation. Beneath the radiance of the night pearls, it was like a surging wave.
Two people did not rise.
One was Cardinal Merisa of the Ecclesiastical Office. The old man had his eyes closed, a faint, almost imperceptible smile on his lips, as if he had truly fallen asleep.
The other was Luoluo in the corner. She stared directly at Mo Yu’s face, her demeanor somewhat rude.
With the entire hall standing, the two who remained seated naturally drew everyone’s attention. All eyes turned toward them.
Xu Shiji’s expression grew even darker. Though he clearly knew that this young girl named Luoluo had an extraordinary background, tonight the Southern delegation had come to propose marriage, and he had to ensure everything remained under control. That was why he had deliberately rebuked her earlier—to test for any potential disruptions.
Now, it seemed a disruption had arrived.
The Cardinal’s status was too high for him to vent his anger there, so naturally, he could only target the remaining person.
He stared coldly at the National Academy’s position in the corner.
As he expected, no one dared to look directly at the Cardinal seated above. Everyone’s gaze fell on the corner, on Luoluo.
Luoluo ignored all these stares. She fixed her eyes on Mo Yu, her gaze calm, her expression stern, full of warning.
The crowd felt a chill in their hearts, uncertain of what was about to happen.
Xu Shiji was about to bark out a reprimand when a crisp voice suddenly rang through the hall.
“It’s nothing.”
Mo Yu said with a smile, extending both arms horizontally, her wide sleeves drooping slightly, signaling everyone to sit down.
These words seemed directed at everyone, at Xu Shiji, displaying her magnanimous heart.
Only Luoluo knew that these words were meant for her.
She had promised Luoluo that Chen Changsheng would be fine.
Luoluo knew that Mo Yu would not lie, especially at this moment, now that she knew what Mo Yu had done and had already issued her warning.
Her heart relaxed a little, but she did not let her guard down.
She sat in the corner, quietly watching Mo Yu, her gaze never shifting.
Like a tiger lurking in the mountain forest, silently watching its prey, ready to leap out at any moment and tear it to shreds.
Mo Yu felt that gaze from the distant corner. She raised an eyebrow slightly, somewhat surprised—like the Princess of Peace, she had thought that Luoluo’s studies at the National Academy were merely a boring little game she played with ordinary people in the Hundred Herb Garden.
Even if there was some bond between her and Chen Changsheng, it shouldn’t have reached this level of seriousness.
Mo Yu could feel her gaze, and many other experts in the hall noticed it too.
Especially those near the National Academy’s seat suddenly felt a chill.
…
…
Chen Changsheng thought he was dead, but he wasn’t.
The black dragon stopped in the air before him, not advancing any further.
They were separated by over a hundred feet. Because the black dragon was so enormous, this distance was very close. He could even see the wind and snow accumulated at the roots of its fangs. The black dragon breathed slowly and deeply, an endless gale howling, countless snowflakes and frost shards tumbling and dancing in the wind.
Chen Changsheng felt as if he were standing outside the distant Snow Old City in the far north.
What had made the black dragon slowly stop was not his courage, nor the words he had spoken before his imminent death, but the short sword in his hand.
That very ordinary-looking short sword.
Looking at the short sword in his hand, deep within the black dragon’s eyes, it seemed as if countless stars lit up one by one, then extinguished again.
Each star was an emotion.
Bewilderment.
Incomprehension.
Shock.
Unease.
Malice.
Parting.
Reunion.
Familiarity.
Caution.
Anger.
Majesty.
Calm.
Unable to stay calm.
Wanting to forget.
Hard to forget.
Disappointment.
Despair.
Hope.
Still hope.
…
…
Countless complex emotions appeared in the black dragon’s cold, cruel eyes.
For a human, it was hard to understand how a single glance could contain so many emotions.
Chen Changsheng could not understand. Covered in wind and snow, he gripped his sword tightly, staring at the black dragon, silent.
The black dragon looked at him quietly for a long time.
Suddenly, the black dragon… let out a low roar!
The cold wind howled, and the ice and snow accumulated on the distant walls of the underground space fell in a rustling cascade. The frost and snow on the surface of the silver sea swirled and flew wildly.
That low roar was a word, because it carried a specific meaning.
That low roar was more like a pure sound, because it was just sound—a single syllable.
An extremely brief sound, yet extremely complex.
Like a hurricane—seemingly violent and monotonous, yet within it were countless turbulent currents, countless directions.
This was the Dragon Tongue.
A language that had disappeared from the human world for thousands, even tens of thousands of years.
By now, perhaps no one had ever heard the Dragon Tongue. As for those who could speak it… no one knew where to find them.
The dragon was the highest form of life in this world, possessing the most perfect body and soul. Only its incomparably solid and complex biological structure, combined with its immensely powerful spiritual consciousness, could communicate in such an unimaginable way.
The simplest was the most complex; the highest.
“Is this the legendary Dragon Tongue?”
Chen Changsheng thought, deeply shaken.
Even if he hadn’t been trapped by the wind and snow, he would probably have been stiff all over by now.
Because he was truly shocked.
His shock was different from anyone else’s in this world upon hearing a dragon’s roar. Or rather, his shock had an extra layer.
He had heard this sound before.
In the old temple of Xining Town, he and his senior brother had read through the Three Thousand Daoist Canons. The last volume contained one thousand six hundred and one characters, rumored to conceal the ultimate meaning of the Heavenly Dao. They didn’t recognize the script on the scroll, so they went to ask their master. Their master said he didn’t recognize it either, but… he could read it.
So he and his senior brother began to learn to read those characters.
They didn’t know their meaning, but they knew their sound.
He had never known what those strange characters were.
Until many years later, deep beneath the Great Zhou imperial palace, before a black frost dragon, he finally understood.
That was the Dragon Tongue.
So the last volume of the Three Thousand Daoist Canons was written in the Dragon Tongue.
Silence.
A long silence.
The black dragon looked at Chen Changsheng quietly, as if waiting for something.
Chen Changsheng didn’t know what it was waiting for, so he could only remain silent.
Once again, countless stars lit up and then extinguished in the black dragon’s eyes.
It was silent for a moment, then let out a low cry.
This cry was truly low. No cold wind arose, but there was a sense of extinction.
Chen Changsheng’s eyelashes fell.
His Daoist topknot was blown loose, his black hair scattering behind him, then falling.
His clothes were torn by the wind, then fell.
The dragon’s cry was low. The anger ultimately turned to disappointment, then despair.
Chen Changsheng knew he was going to die again—the word “again” was not funny; it was pathetic.
The black dragon had seemed to have hope for him earlier, allowing him to live a little longer.
But now that hope was gone.
Chen Changsheng suddenly felt very sad, not because there was no hope, not because of himself.
For some reason, hearing the black dragon’s low cry, he was so sad he could hardly speak.
He seemed to see countless ages, endless solitude.
The dark underground, deception and concealment, bitter waiting and despair.
Those were things he had also experienced.
The shadow of death, like pitch-black night, had tormented him for years, every moment without cease.
He had no one to tell, nowhere to speak, waiting alone for the final judgment.
He suddenly wanted to comfort this black dragon.
He didn’t know what to say, only felt that at a time like this, he should say something.
So, he spoke a single word to the black dragon.
He didn’t know what that word meant.
It was the first character he had learned from the last volume of the Three Thousand Daoist Canons when he was a child.
It was a single-syllable word, with an extremely strange pronunciation.
Within that fragment seemed to contain infinite information.
Hearing this word, the black dragon’s eyes suddenly shot out countless rays of violent light!
But the entire world fell silent.