Chapter 121: The Dragon's Affliction
Finally, Ning Que's name appeared... Actually, during the three months of writing "The Legend of the Mortal," his name had already appeared countless times, attempting to usurp Chen Changsheng's place in my heart. Each time, I spotted him with my fiery eyes and killed him off. I never expected his vitality to be so tenacious. In the end, while I was sick with a cold and feeling smug, he sneaked out again. Sorry, you're the past. This is Chen Changsheng's world. I'll come play with you later, okay? Be good. Chen Changsheng, don't you ever learn from him, alright? (Said while wiping my nose.) Today, I'll still try to write another chapter. When it updates, I don't know.)
The black dragon cast an indifferent glance at him, devoid of emotion—or rather, its emotions were monotonous. Yet, like the dragon speech it uttered, the simplest forms could contain the most complex information. The moment Chen Changsheng's eyes met the black dragon's, it felt as if he saw countless stars, receiving many meanings it wished to convey.
That abandoned well, personally supervised by Wang Zhice, was the life gate within the formation imprisoning the black dragon. It was the same principle as the black dragon pool Chen Changsheng saw in the abandoned garden, which was the life gate of the Tong Palace. At the bottom of the well, there had originally been three nets woven from mixed gold stone. These ensured the formation's life gate remained open while preventing any Kyoto commoner from accidentally falling in and becoming the black dragon's food. However, not long ago—Chen Changsheng couldn't grasp how long "not long ago" meant to it, whether decades or just a few days—someone from the imperial palace had inexplicably removed those three mixed gold nets.
With just a faint glance from the black dragon, countless pieces of information flooded into Chen Changsheng's mind. He understood much, yet there was still a lot he couldn't organize or process, unclear in meaning. But he clearly grasped the final thought the black dragon wanted to express: Humans are truly boring.
A life imprisoned for centuries, unable to communicate, enduring loneliness and cold day after day, yet it called humans boring. Chen Changsheng found this hard to accept. He thought to himself, if you weren't so bored from idleness, why wouldn't you let me leave that night? Why insist that I promise to come and chat with you? But why did that person remove the three mixed gold nets? Wasn't he afraid someone might fall in?
He looked at the two iron chains behind the black dragon, his gaze stretching far into the distance, landing on the stone wall where the portraits of two legendary divine generals loomed like mountains. Many questions arose in his mind.
He hadn't considered helping the black dragon escape. First, he didn't know how much truth lay in that legend—if the black dragon left the underground space, would it bring catastrophic disaster to Kyoto's citizens? More importantly, the formation imprisoning the black dragon was set up by Wang Zhice and the peerless experts of the Taizong era. With his current abilities, breaking the formation? The very thought was absurd.
Suddenly, he thought of something. Since the black dragon could understand human language and he could directly receive information from its gaze, then communication between him and the black dragon was no problem at all—come to think of it, cultivators above the Gathering Stars realm could communicate briefly with divine thoughts, let alone a sacred life like the Frost Dragon of the Xuanfrost lineage.
Chen Changsheng looked into the black dragon's eyes, wanting to tell it this. Unexpectedly, the black dragon seemed to have anticipated his thoughts and quickly closed its eyes, sending frost shattering everywhere. Seeing its reaction, Chen Changsheng was taken aback, vaguely guessing that this black dragon wanted not just communication but also to hear the sounds of his race's language? Why was that? Because of longing?
"That night, I promised to come see you as soon as possible, but... the imperial palace is hard to enter. Getting here isn't easy and requires great risk. You know, I'm very afraid of death. But now I'm facing a problem. If I can't solve it, I might die. So I thought, before that, I should come see you once. And so, I'm here."
Chen Changsheng didn't mention the words left on the stone table by the middle-aged woman, nor did he speak of the mental and physical effort he'd expended to see the black dragon.
"That night, when we first met, I talked a lot about death. Today, I'm talking about it again. I hope you won't find it annoying."
Saying this, he suddenly thought that dragons, with their innate mastery of the fundamental forces of heaven, earth, and stars, and their wisdom, might have some understanding of this matter. A surge of hope rose within him. He briefly explained the problems he'd encountered in his cultivation and then earnestly waited for it to open its eyes.
After a long silence, the black dragon slowly opened its eyes, snowflakes falling softly.
It looked at Chen Changsheng, its gaze still indifferent, but he saw the faintest change—a trace of bewilderment and confusion.
Among the three noblest and most powerful branches of dragon bloodlines, the Frost Dragon of the Xuanfrost lineage was renowned for its wisdom. Even it couldn't solve the problems in his cultivation, which dampened Chen Changsheng's spirits even further.
Just then, the black dragon's whiskers floated up, came before him, and jabbed heavily, tapping his brow to snap him back to reality.
This gesture showed it was already growing impatient.
What did a human youth's cultivation matter to it? It only cared about how to make him master dragon speech as quickly as possible, then do something.
Chen Changsheng shook his head helplessly, a bitter taste in his heart. When he studied the Daoist scriptures in Xining Town, terrified by the records of dragons' arrogance and brutality, how could he have imagined that he would one day encounter a real dragon—and one that loved to teach?
A moment later.
"Ooo..."
Chen Changsheng let out a sound that was almost a low roar, more like the wind, definitely not a normal human utterance. This sound was both simple and complex, requiring the use of many subtle muscle groups in the throat, even fine-tuning certain cords beyond conscious control, to produce it—yet it didn't need the tongue.
This was the first word the black dragon had taught him that night. Having learned similar sounds as a child in the old temple of Xining Town, he grasped it quickly and hadn't forgotten. The meaning of this word was complex. Compared to human language, it contained at least dozens of pieces of information. The most complex might require an entire paragraph to describe, while the simplest was: I.
The black dragon was very satisfied with Chen Changsheng's performance. Its whiskers drifted lightly, proud of its teaching prowess. At some point, two night pearls fell from the dome, and it held them in its front claws, rolling them around. If the night pearls were bigger, or its claws smaller, it might have looked more like an old scholar in a village school.
It shifted its eyes slightly, looking at the night pearl beside Chen Changsheng.
Chen Changsheng remembered clearly that that night, this greedy black dragon had tried to take his night pearl and not return it. He quickly put it away.
The black dragon's whiskers drooped gently, looking somewhat resigned, and then it made a sound.
That was the second word it wanted to teach Chen Changsheng.
Night pearls, glass, rainbows, golden scales on the lake, burning evening clouds—or rather... light.
Chen Changsheng smiled sheepishly, rubbed his brow to perk himself up, and then began trying to mimic the black dragon's pronunciation. For humans, dragon speech was incredibly difficult to master. Even with his experience, it was the same, and it drained his mental energy greatly. His face visibly paled.
The most critical issue was time. The Grand Examination was approaching, the problem of marrow cleansing remained unsolved, and the risk of death loomed before him. For Chen Changsheng, time was the most precious thing in the world. Logically, he shouldn't waste it learning dragon speech, which was even more pointless than learning dragon-slaying techniques.
But he didn't refuse the black dragon's request, nor did he leave. He continued to focus on learning. Because he loved learning, and more importantly, because he had made a promise—handle your own affairs, and always keep your promises, even until death. This was a habit he'd developed since childhood, not necessarily good, but strong.
In the isolated underground space, though illuminated by countless night pearls, it remained cold, silent, and vast.
On the ground, Chen Changsheng, before the enormous black dragon, was like an ant.
He babbled like an infant.
In the empty underground space, strange sounds occasionally echoed—those were his mispronunciations.
And then, the black dragon's chirping laughter would reverberate endlessly.