"Tell me. What do you want to trade for? Treasure? An advancement in cultivation? Or that legendary freedom?"
"Once you say it out loud, it won't weigh on you so heavily."
Bai Moulong spoke very slowly.
The Gray Flood Dragon, with a flood-dragon head perched atop its long neck, felt its Primordial Spirit grow hazy and unfocused.
Fat Tiger had turned into a plump orange cat and sat on the threshold with narrowed eyes, blankly staring into space. It felt that its boss was not only skilled at business, but also at selling big pies. Freedom was a pie so large and round that one could see it but never eat it—whoever bought it would be fooled.
The Gray Flood Dragon finally came to its senses, shaking its head hard.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
After living so many years, how could it be so easily hoodwinked by a few words? Some matters had consequences far too great; it truly did not dare speak carelessly.
Bai Moulong smiled.
"Not bad. You're someone who keeps faith. I want to know what happened after you embezzled military supplies. Can't remember? That's fine. I'll help you remember."
She turned her head to look around, then beckoned. The brush on the desk behind her flew over.
She licked the tip, dipped it in a little more saliva, and began to paint.
Where the brush tip fell, ink stains emerged and rapidly spread, bleeding outward. In merely two breaths, the General Store was nowhere to be seen. All around, above, and below was ink wash scenery depicting people and places. The Gray Flood Dragon could not tell whether this was an Illusion Technique or a real painting. When details emerged from the dark and pale ink strokes around it, its jaw dropped in