In the quiet, vast Ink Wash Painting space, the enormous black-gray dragon soul faced the Little White Flood Dragon.
The black-gray ink-wash dragon soul likewise arched its body and raised its head high. Majestic and domineering, it surveyed the four directions. At a glance, it carried a heaven-supporting, earth-standing bearing—an innate boldness born with it.
The difference in size was too great. Before the dragon soul, Bai Yujun was like a child standing before an adult.
The dragon soul was divine and mighty, but the tiny white flood dragon before it was another matter entirely...
Though she too arched her body, puffed out her chest, and raised her head, she somehow gave off a shifty-eyed, furtive air. It felt as though she would dart away and find somewhere to hide the instant no one was looking. It could not be helped. Her harsh environment and frequent disasters had turned slipping into underground rivers into an instinctive habit. Once one got used to being a ground-crawler, it was hard to leap up and swagger again.
The ink-wash dragon lowered its head to look at her. Perhaps it had not expected the Little White Flood Dragon to be so crafty. It shook its head, lifted its chin, and struck a majestic pose.
It seemed to be telling Bai Yujun to imitate it, to learn how to be a true dragon.
She had better obediently follow along. Even if this old fellow had only a fragment of its soul left, it was not something she could provoke now. Perhaps if it was pleased, it might even teach her some peerless divine art, a secret manual for transforming into a dragon, or some other benefit. Then she raised her head high and tried to look imposing, though her darting eyes ruined the effect.
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