Chen Hao looked at the trembling dragon in his hand and fell silent for a moment.
"Considering how hard you worked to reach your cultivation, I can spare you." His voice echoed through the void. "Trade your clan's secret techniques for your life."
Ao Yuan jerked his head up, his golden slit pupils brimming with the wild joy of surviving certain death. "Thank you, Venerable One! Thank you!"
He rose—or rather, shifted from lying flat to kneeling. A thousand-meter-long dragon kneeling in a man's palm made for an indescribably bizarre sight.
"Venerable One, my clan's secret techniques are in the Dragon Transformation Pool on the highest level." His voice still trembled, though it was steadier than before. "My blood energy is exhausted, and I can barely move. Sorry for the trouble, but please come up to the Dragon Transformation Pool. The secret techniques are there on the highest level."
Chen Hao glanced at him without speaking.
That look sent another tingle through Ao Yuan's scales, and he hastily added, "Rest assured, Venerable One. I would never dare try any more tricks. Your cultivation... even if I lived another ten thousand years, I could never catch up."
Chen Hao withdrew his gaze and blew a breath. It came through the void, becoming a gentle breeze that wrapped around Ao Yuan's primordial spirit.
The wind lifted Ao Yuan's body, sending him drifting toward the exit of the sea of consciousness.
He wanted to say something, but the wind was too strong for him to open his mouth. All he could do was nod furiously to show he understood.
The first thing Chen Hao saw when he opened his eyes was Chen Siyao's face.
Her eyes were red, as was the tip of her nose, and undried tears still clung to her lashes.