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At that moment
Dragon-Raising Temple
Lingli stood in a meditation room, watching over the old monk lying on the bed with concern.
"Granduncle Muqiao, how are you feeling today? Have you gotten any better?"
A few days earlier, Muqiao had been gravely wounded while resisting the Great Asura Lord. Though he had luckily escaped with his life, he had remained bedridden ever since.
Until today.
"Cough, cough... Amitabha. It's all right. The Buddha must think this humble monk's Buddhist nature isn't quite up to snuff, so he hasn't thought to summon me to wait on him yet."
Muqiao cracked a joke, but his face was deathly pale, without a trace of color.
"Granduncle... you... Ah, you mustn't joke about the Buddha. Amitabha, forgive me, forgive me."
Lingli pressed her palms together over and over, her pretty face grave as she silently recited Buddhist scripture.
"You... You're still as stiff as ever. The Buddha lives in my heart. Joke or no joke, why would he care?"
"Enough... Help me up. The sun's lovely today; it'll be nice to sit in it for a while. My old bones, ah... They're not what they used to be."
Muqiao smiled and let Lingli help him out of the meditation room.
Looking at Muqiao, who seemed as frail as a candle in the wind, Lingli felt a pang in her heart. She knew her understanding of the Dharma was still shallow, her concentration lacking, and her character wanting, so she changed the subject. "Granduncle, why didn't Granduncle Muna step in that day? If he'd come to help, surely you wouldn't have been bullied by the Great Asura Lord."
"Is guarding the seal at the Snake Abyss really that important?"
"And what about Master? She'd rather stay there guarding Xuan Ye than come help you. What on earth is everyone thinking?"
Lingli was full of confusion, and even felt a little resentful. She had begun to doubt her own master.
"You don't understand!" Muqiao shook his head, but didn't answer.
His attitude only made Lingli more frustrated. She muttered, "If you don't explain, how am I supposed to understand?"
Muqiao sighed and thought for a moment. "As for your Granduncle Muna, you must understand that even if the Dragon-Raising Temple were destroyed, he couldn't leave the seal at the entrance for even a moment. That's been the rule of our temple for three hundred years. Not even the Buddha himself could change it."
"As for your master, don't blame her either. Yuanhui leads an entire temple, and there's a great deal she has to consider. Xuan Ye is a prince of Zhaoyang Country, the younger brother of the current emperor, and the one who commands the Zhaoyang Imperial Court as its present leader. If anything happened to him, it would be the same as the destruction of our Dragon-Raising Temple."
"Have you ever thought about your master's predicament?"
Muqiao's words left Lingli utterly silent.
After a long while, she asked, "Granduncle... does our Dragon-Raising Temple really have a True Dragon?"
After what she had witnessed that day, with the Red Fire Dragon appearing, how could she not be curious?
A True Dragon...
A flicker crossed Muqiao's eyes, but he didn't answer. Instead, he said meaningfully, "Lingli, what would you do if one day a True Dragon really appeared, only to destroy our Dragon-Raising Temple?"
But before Lingli could answer, he murmured, "If that really happened, then run. Leave the Great Wasteland, leave Zhaoyang Country, leave the Ten Nations and Twelve Veins. Run as far away as you can, to the ends of the earth, and never come back."
"Just like that Blood Rain three hundred years ago. This is the fate of our Dragon-Raising Temple, and of us..."
Muqiao's voice suddenly fell silent.
Lingli had been listening, spellbound. When he stopped, she looked up at him in confusion—only to see a flood of red rushing toward her. Blood-red clouds, like an omen of demonic calamity, blanketed the sky for a hundred li in every direction.
Rumble, rumble.
Raindrops as large as beans began pouring down in an instant.
A sweet, metallic smell rose in her nostrils. Lingli instinctively touched her nose, only to find her hand already smeared with scarlet.
"Blood Rain!"
"Three hundred years... Has the cycle begun again?"
Muqiao's voice was filled with despair and unease.
Chiyang City, City Lord's Manor.
His mind was restless.
His thoughts wouldn't settle.
Ever since Xuan Ye had left, Fang Wenshan had been stationed in Chiyang City. The past few days had felt like years.
First, the plan to claim the True Dragon had failed. Though it wasn't his fault, the emperor would still find plenty to criticize.
Most likely, the emperor would strip him of his official post. Even with Xuan Ye trying to smooth things over, there was no guarantee.
Punishment was inevitable.
That wasn't the worst of it. As long as he wasn't forced to leave Chiyang City, this vast city would still be his to rule.
The main problem was that some bastard had spilled the news that the court had joined forces with evil spirits to attack the Dragon-Raising Temple, and had spread it with such detail that it sounded like the truth.
Lingfa insists it wasn't me.
The people erupted in an uproar.
Though the rumors had been promptly suppressed, many people weren't willing to believe them anyway. Yet the Dragon-Raising Temple's odd silence, along with its recent decision to shut its doors to visitors, only made people more suspicious.
Many prominent figures in the Great Wasteland—Confucian scholars, wealthy merchants, Buddhist devotees, and others—had openly challenged the court over the matter. The court had simply dismissed them, claiming they were heretical outsiders trying to disrupt the government.
"Crushing them like this might work for a little while, but it can't go on forever."
Fang Wenshan paced irritably by the window, unable to think of a way to handle the situation.
Anyone with eyes could see that the people of the Great Wasteland were waiting for the Dragon-Raising Temple to come forward and explain.
But the Dragon-Raising Temple remained unmoved. It had even recalled all the monks traveling outside the temple to exorcise demons, leading to a recent surge of demonic incidents throughout the region.
Public anger seethed like a volcano on the verge of eruption. Every day the Dragon-Raising Temple failed to explain itself, that anger gathered more strength. Sooner or later, it would become impossible to contain—and erupt in full force.
"Damn it... Those ignorant fools in the Great Wasteland care about nothing but the Dragon-Raising Temple. They have no regard for the law or the court. They deserve to die!"
"And that Dragon-Raising Temple..."
Fang Wenshan was full of complaints. The Dragon-Raising Temple hadn't even suffered any great loss, only a little wounded pride. He had gone there in person to apologize and promised them all sorts of benefits, so why were they still refusing to let it go?
They had shut the temple and refused to say a word, and now they wouldn't even come out to explain. They really didn't know when they were well off.
"They're all traitors. Every last one of them deserves to die..."
"And that bunch of idiots in the imperial family. Why does every one of them dream of becoming emperor? Fine, let them dream of the throne—but why do they also insist on plotting to claim the True Dragon?"
Fang Wenshan couldn't stop grumbling to himself. He truly couldn't understand the emperors of Zhaoyang Country. Every generation wanted to lay claim to the legendary True Dragon. Had the True Dragon killed their ancestor or something?
Every last one of them was a fool.
"It's raining again. The True Dragon at the Dragon-Raising Temple sure is diligent!"
Rain struck his face, but he paid no attention. He picked up his teacup, then realized the rain was scarlet.
Like blood!
No—
It was blood!
Fang Wenshan froze. Only after a long while did he look outside, and discover that the earth and sky had turned completely red.
As if the apocalypse had arrived.
"Blood Rain!"
"Th-this... This is a terrible omen!"
A chill rose from deep in his heart and quickly spread through his entire body.
His very soul turned cold!
Gulp, gulp.
Su Qingqiu was utterly resigned to his fate, endless confusion reflected in his enormous serpentine pupils.
That flood of period blood had come far too suddenly. Forgive him, but he just couldn't accept it.
His mouth was full of a fishy taste.
If this blood weren't so useful to him, he'd rather go without the Blood Spirit Ruins!
Fortunately, the period blood didn't last long. As the final drop of blood from the Blood Spirit Ruins fell into his mouth,
he suddenly felt a round, smooth object slide down his throat and into his belly.
[Devouring Blood Nest... Exorcism and Blessing in progress...]
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