A Dragon-Transformed Little Rascal

The azure-gold glow in the ancestral hall had yet to fade completely. The scent of sandalwood mingled with the smell of sun-warmed wood, slowly spreading through the air. Still in his little dragon-transformed form, Wharton curiously studied his palms, covered in azure-gold dragon scales. The scales on his fingertips shone with a soft luster, and a gentle clench sent an unfamiliar yet powerful sensation flowing through every part of his body.

"Father, my hands seem stronger!" Wharton cried excitedly, his little face still flushed, his eyes sparkling with wonder. He raised a dragon claw and reached toward the brass incense burner on the offering table-three sticks of incense stood inside it, their blue-gray smoke curling upward and weaving fine patterns in the sunlight.

Hogg reacted swiftly, catching his wrist. Torn between laughter and exasperation, he said, "Don't touch things. That's a ritual vessel for honoring our ancestors, not something to play with."

Wharton withdrew his hand sheepishly and puffed out his cheeks, but he could not suppress his mischievous nature. He turned his attention to the sandalwood incense in front of the ancestral tablets. Rising onto his toes, he stretched his little body upward, while the long, spiked tail behind him unconsciously lifted and swayed from side to side like a nimble little whip. He was squinting, about to play with that wispy column of smoke, when the tip of his tail flicked. With a sharp smack, it struck the wooden candlestick beside the offering table squarely.

The candlestick was made of ebony, with a half-burned red candle still set in it. Struck by his tail, it immediately lost its balance and fell onto the bluestone slabs with a clatter. The red candle rolled onto the floor, its flame wavering and nearly catching the hanging tablecloth.

Startled, Hillman hurriedly bent to pick it up, still clutching the rag he had just used to clean up broken porcelain. "Oh, my little terror, take it easy!" he fretted. "That candlestick has been passed down for generations. If it breaks, there'll be no fixing it!"

Wharton shrank back in fright, even the little dragon horns on his forehead trembling, and instinctively tried to retreat. But he had yet to figure out his balance in his dragon-transformed form. His feet felt as though they were treading on cotton, and after just two steps backward, he stumbled into Hogg's legs. He hurriedly steadied himself, but his unruly tail flicked again. This time, it went even further, curling straight around a white porcelain bowl sitting at the edge of the offering table.

The porcelain bowl held fruit offerings, with a few uneaten red dates still clinging to the bottom. Caught by his tail, it slid straight off the offering table and hit the bluestone slabs with a sharp crash, splitting in two and scattering red dates across the floor.

Wharton was utterly dumbfounded. He froze in place, not daring to move, and even the azure-gold glow around him seemed to dim a little. Carefully, he raised his head and stole a glance at Hogg's expression. His eyes instantly reddened, large tears welling in them. "Father, I didn't mean to... I just wanted to see if my tail could wrap around things..."

Hogg looked at the mess strewn across the floor-the fallen candlestick, the broken porcelain bowl, the red dates scattered everywhere-then at his son's pitiful, guilty expression. He could no longer keep his lips pressed tight and burst out laughing. Crouching down, he rubbed the top of Wharton's head, his fingertips brushing over the closely packed dragon scales, rough yet warm to the touch. "It's all right. What's broken is broken. Just be more careful next time. You've only just transformed, so it's normal not to have control of your tail. A little practice will sort it out."

Relieved to have been forgiven, Wharton instantly lost the aggrieved look on his little face and could not resist giving his tail another curious sway. To his surprise, the tip seemed to have eyes of its own, hooking Hillman's hem with perfect accuracy.

Hillman was bending down to gather the red dates from the floor when the unexpected tug threw him off balance, nearly sending him onto his backside. He hastily caught the edge of the offering table and barely steadied himself. Turning to look at Wharton's still-swaying tail, he pulled his hem free, torn between laughter and exasperation. "Wharton! That little tail of yours is even more mischievous than a cat's! Keep swinging it around like that, and you'll wreck everything in the ancestral hall!"

Wharton stuck out his tongue, revealing two neat rows of little white teeth, and hurriedly tried to tuck his tail away. But it seemed to have a mind of its own, swishing disobediently from side to side and sweeping into the broom propped in the corner. Woven from bamboo twigs, the broom fell with a clatter at the blow from his tail, raising a cloud of dust that made Wharton cough over and over. His little face scrunched up, and even the dragon horns on his forehead bobbed along.

Watching him flounder, Hogg and Hillman could not help exchanging a smile, their eyes full of affection.

Sunlight streamed through the window lattice onto Wharton's little figure, the azure-gold dragon scales glittering in tiny flecks of light. The once solemn and quiet ancestral hall was now filled with cheerful laughter, along with Wharton's slightly embarrassed muttering.

Only after making a commotion for quite some time did Wharton finally get the knack of controlling his tail. Holding his breath and concentrating, he tried winding it around his arm, where it hung like a little azure-gold whip. Then he tilted his small face up toward Hogg, plainly seeking praise. "Father, look! I can control it now! See how well it's behaving? It isn't swaying anymore!"

Hogg smiled and nodded, reaching out to ruffle his soft hair-in his dragon-transformed form, only a small patch of skin at the top of his head remained uncovered by scales, soft to the touch. He stood and patted Wharton's shoulder. "Very impressive. Since you can control your tail now, let's practice in the courtyard and see whether you can use the power of Dragon Transformation to smash that wooden post with one punch-the one you couldn't damage before, no matter how hard you hit it."

"Hooray!" Wharton cheered, his eyes as bright as stars in the sky, and turned to run out of the ancestral hall.

But he had forgotten that he was still in his dragon-transformed form, with the little dragon horns on his forehead making him taller than usual. Just as he reached the doorway, his horns slammed squarely into the doorframe with a dull thud.

Clutching his forehead and grimacing in pain, Wharton looked back at Hogg with watery, reddened eyes, looking both comical and pitiful.

Loud laughter rang through the ancestral hall once again, shaking dust loose from the rafters in a pattering shower.