Chapter 62: Squeak Squeak
Silence, absolute silence, an exceedingly long silence. No sound of wind, no dripping water, no breath. The black dragon and Chen Changsheng both held their breath, silent, as if from tension, a tension that seemed to stem from finally glimpsing hope.
The black dragon's hope was unknown; Chen Changsheng's hope was naturally to escape death. When he saw the black dragon's whiskers slowly drift up, silently approach him, and gently press against his brow, he couldn't determine what would happen next.
The whisker was thick where it connected to the dragon's jaw, gradually thinning until its tip was about the thickness of a human pinky finger. It looked somewhat sharp, its surface dark as night yet transparent like jade, with faint black light particles churning within like storm clouds.
The tip of the whisker seemed to touch his brow but not quite, so close that the naked eye couldn't tell if contact was made. Chen Changsheng grew increasingly tense. Having just returned from the brink of death, he felt fear more acutely. Sweat poured from his hand gripping the sword hilt, then quickly froze into frost from the ambient cold.
Silently, the black whisker tapped lightly against his brow.
The sensation was strange—not sticky or terrifying, but slightly cool and clear, instead making him alert. He vaguely understood the black dragon's meaning.
It was telling him to continue.
Chen Changsheng didn't hesitate and spoke the second word—still from the final volume of the Three Thousand Daoist Scriptures.
The pronunciation of this word was still extremely bizarre, incredibly difficult to produce. Even with cold snow covering his face, it was clearly visible: his face flushed red, while his lips turned pale, as if uttering this word had drained his mental energy greatly.
The black whisker drifted gently, its dark tip contracting and bouncing before his brow, then tapped his brow again lightly.
Chen Changsheng understood, so he spoke the third word, then the fourth, the fifth...
As those strange syllables emerged from his lips, his mental energy rapidly depleted, and he grew weaker. But at the same time, he felt the surrounding chill gradually diminish. After speaking over a dozen words, warmth finally returned to his viscera.
The black dragon's eyes remained indifferent, but its whiskers contracted and rebounded faster and faster, tracing countless black lines under the light of the night pearls, until they seemed to form countless flowers—all flowers of the heart, blooming wildly.
Chen Changsheng sensed its joy, though lingering fear remained. The dozen or so dragon-language syllables he had spoken were not in the order of the final volume of the Three Thousand Daoist Scriptures; he had simply picked them at random from the 1,601 characters, unable to form sentences. Unexpectedly, the dragon still understood.
He had done this out of caution ingrained in his bones, unsure if it was right or wrong. Now it seemed there was no major problem.
The black whisker gradually stilled, slowly withdrew from his brow, and gently touched the hand holding his short sword—no hostility.
Chen Changsheng accurately received the signal sent by the other party and finally fully relaxed.
The moment shrouded by death's shadow had finally passed. The long, terrifying pressure vanished abruptly. His mind shifted with the environment, and the frost covering him crackled and fell away. Dust, gathered from who knows where, sprayed into the air through the gaps in his clothes.
Since pushing open the stone door, he had been extremely tense, knowing only that he had seen a black dragon. But only now did he truly see what this black dragon looked like—more accurately, only now did he dare to carefully examine it.
This was a Frostblack Dragon.
Even among dragons, this was the highest existence, a legendary divine creature, equal in status to Golden Dragons and Nine Heavens True Dragons.
However, unlike the myths or legends describing Frostblack Dragons as brutal, bloodthirsty yet clean-loving, dark and enchanting like the night, Chen Changsheng saw much dust on this black dragon's body, and even many broken scales!
Those scales were about to fall off, looking extremely ugly, like dead fish bellies.
Chen Changsheng was astonished. If the Daoist scriptures and legends about Frostblack Dragons were correct, how had it become like this? As someone with mild cleanliness tendencies, he knew well how such a creature, valuing purity above all, could never tolerate such a state.
Even more astonishing, as the chill receded and the light spread, he saw behind the black dragon two extremely thick iron chains. Those chains tightly bound the dragon's two hind claws, deeply embedded into the scales, looking terrifying!
So this black dragon was not... the lonely guardian of the Great Zhou imperial palace, but a prisoner!
The surfaces of those two iron chains were covered in countless layers of frost, but made of unknown material, showing no signs of breaking. Understandably, anything capable of imprisoning a Frostblack Dragon underground could not be ordinary.
The other ends of the two chains were on the wall.
It was a stone wall hundreds of zhang high, carved with a giant painting. The pigments had been eroded by time and were invisible, but what was depicted could still be made out. The painting had no scenery or objects—only two people.
Two fierce, godlike figures.
The stone wall was very high, the painting very large, so these two figures were naturally towering, like heavenly gods, clad in armor. One held an iron mace, the other a long whip. Their brows and eyes were majestic as gods, their glances brimming with heroic spirit.
Chen Changsheng recognized these two. Everyone living on this continent recognized them, because these two were still hung on the main doors of all homes and estates. These two were the Door Gods.
The Door Gods were not gods, but real people—the two most powerful divine generals beside Emperor Taizong of Great Zhou.
One divine general was named Qin Zhong, the other Yugong.
These two divine generals followed Emperor Taizong through a lifetime of campaigns, from the founding of Great Zhou to the final defeat of the demon race. Though not as meritorious as Wang Zhice, they were even more fierce and formidable, with unfathomable strength. In their prime, they had already entered the Saintly Realm, true peerless experts.
As divine generals, these two were countless times more powerful than the divine generals of the present continent.
The iron chains binding the black dragon were fastened to the stone wall, exactly held in the hands of the two painted divine generals.
Such an arrangement naturally had its reasoning.
Seeing these images, Chen Changsheng vaguely confirmed that this black dragon had likely been captured during Emperor Taizong's reign.
Thinking of that turbulent era, thinking of those former experts who had nearly become myths—or had already become myths—and thinking of the portraits in Lingyan Pavilion, he truly sympathized with this black dragon.
Perhaps due to the humiliation and pressure inflicted by the demon race, humanity in that age had burst forth with unimaginable brilliance. Countless experts emerged endlessly. Even a being like a Frostblack Dragon, outnumbered, could only end up as a miserable prisoner.
How many years had passed from Emperor Taizong's reign to now?
In this cold, lonely, dark underground, how had this black dragon endured such a long time?
"You want to talk to me, don't you?" Chen Changsheng asked.
The black dragon's whiskers drifted up again, brushing lightly across his lips like a dragonfly skimming water.
"I can only speak; I don't understand the meaning of those words."
Chen Changsheng looked at it and said, "But you can teach me."
The black dragon's eyes suddenly became exceptionally bright, brighter than the thousands of night pearls on the dome combined.
Chen Changsheng thought, so you can understand human language. If we need to communicate, I just need to learn the dragon language. He continued, looking at the black dragon: "I know dragon language is hard to learn, but I'm very good at learning. As long as you teach me patiently, I'm sure I can learn."
Just then, the black dragon suddenly let out a low roar.
Chen Changsheng was slightly startled.
The black whisker rose without wind, tapped his brow four times lightly, fast as lightning, light as dust.
Chen Changsheng frowned, wondering what this meant.
The black whisker tapped his brow four more times lightly, while the black dragon let out another low roar.
Chen Changsheng understood.
In his last sentence, he had said the word "I" four times.
That was what the black dragon wanted to tell him.
"I?" Chen Changsheng pointed at himself and asked.
Dragon language was extremely complex. Countless fragments within a single syllable could form countless combinations; different combinations expressed different meanings. Mastering it completely would inevitably be a very long process. He knew that roar contained the meaning of "I," but certainly not only "I"... but at least "I."
Seeing Chen Changsheng's gesture, the black dragon was first stunned, then suddenly began to roll!
Its massive body tumbled endlessly in the underground space, stirring up a terrifying gale!
At the same time, a strange sound kept coming from the black dragon's mouth.
From its birth over a thousand years ago until now, it had never been so happy. It didn't know what roar to use to welcome this.
And for certain reasons, it had to suppress its roar, suppress its laughter.
"Squeak... squeak... squeak..."
It sounded very much like a mouse squeaking, ridiculous and laughable.
But there was immense joy within.
Chen Changsheng didn't know what deeds the black dragon had done in the past, what crimes it had committed to be imprisoned by the Great Zhou dynasty. Seeing it now so overjoyed simply because a human could engage in the simplest communication with it, he was moved and sympathized with it even more.
Who knows how long passed before the black dragon finally stopped its joyful tumbling and calmed down.
It looked quietly at Chen Changsheng, sensing his genuine sympathy, and its eyes gradually softened.
The black whisker drifted up again, hovering before his brow.
It waited for Chen Changsheng to speak again.
Chen Changsheng thought for a moment, but what he said was not what the black dragon wanted to hear.
"I know you really want to talk to someone... but not now. I have something very important to do and need to leave immediately."
The black dragon's eyes turned cold again.
Chen Changsheng said gravely, "I promise you, once I finish this matter, I will come back to you, learn to speak with you, and talk with you."
The black dragon's eyes remained cold, now with a few more hints of mockery.
As a noble Frostblack Dragon, imprisoned by humans for so many years, it would never forget what its father had said to it back then.
If humans could be trusted, then we should be the rulers of the world.