Nine Dragon Canon, Jiaojiao

Only after those slightly cool, jade-like hands had freely kneaded his cheeks and shoulders several times did Tang Qingye finally endure his master's little bout of retaliation.

When the knot in Leng Yaozhu's heart had loosened a little and a smile rippled through her phoenix eyes, she finally waved a hand, permitting him to return to his quarters.

The youth breathed a small sigh of relief, bowed, and turned to leave.

Leng Nu Jiao followed close behind him.

Spirit Pagoda Headquarters, ninety-eighth floor.

Tang Qingye glanced back at Leng Nu Jiao. "Sister Nu Jiao, I'm going to take a shower. Go back to your room and rest."

Leng Nu Jiao had been about to agree, but when she saw the teasing look in Tang Qingye's eyes, how could she fail to understand his meaning? "Young master, I'm not talking to you anymore. You're awful!"

Leng Nu Jiao puffed out her cheeks slightly, a faint blush coloring them. She turned her head to glare at him, then hurried back to her room.

Tang Qingye washed briefly in the bathroom, then returned to his room wrapped in a bathrobe.

Tang Qingye summoned the Seven-Colored Heaven-Slaying Gourd. Radiance flowed over its body, and countless seven-colored patterns spread outward, forming a curtain of light that blocked divine sense. It created a world of its own around him, a barrier that even the strongest spiritual perception could not penetrate.

He sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, his fingertip lightly touching the crimson Night Phoenix Ring on his finger.

The entire ring was a vivid red, its band wound with fine, orderly phoenix patterns. Ordinarily, it concealed every trace of soul power fluctuations. It felt solid and weighty to the touch, and a glance was enough to identify it as a rare Level Nine Soul Guidance Treasure.

Leng Yaozhu had personally handed it to him just now. A spacious storage dimension lay within the ring, along with a concealed, complete set of defensive formations.

Worn close to the body over time, it would automatically absorb and merge with the wearer's soul power. If an attack came, it would deploy a Phoenix Fire Shield without needing to be activated. A single thought could also briefly unleash a defensive barrier three times as strong. Yet she had given this priceless lifesaving item to the youth without reservation, every detail reflecting her attentive protection.

My master's kindness...

How should I repay all this affection between master and disciple?

It's time to put my gift for Master on the agenda, too...

His fingertip brushed along the patterns on the ring's surface, and the thousand-year dragon scale grass and heavy ten-thousand-year whale glue fell from the ring into his palm.

With a slight stir of Tang Qingye's mind, the scenery around him changed.

Deep within the vast, chaotic sea of consciousness, Jiu'er was flapping her wings in an earthshaking duel with "Big Baby"-in plain terms, playing house.

"Go."

Standing at the center of the refinement space opened by the Heavenly Cang Sword Intent, Tang Qingye raised his hand and sent the two medicinal ingredients into its core.

The Taiyi Azure Wood Mark intertwined with the Heavenly Cang Art's origin laws, forming a tide of emerald fire that wore away the impure, vicious energies within the ingredients.

The useless impurities in the dragon scale grass were the first to burn away in the emerald flames, dispersing as pale gray smoke. Next, the remnant soul of the Deep Sea Demon Whale sealed within the ten-thousand-year whale glue grew restless and let out soundless roars, only to be forcibly stripped away by the power of laws circulating through the space.

After repeated tempering and purification by the emerald flames, the two streams of pure medicinal power condensed, finally becoming two round pills.

One was crimson throughout, surrounded by a faint scarlet pill mist, and was called the Crimson-Scale Meridian-Nourishing Pill. The other had a warm, muted luster, with rich medicinal power held within its body, and was called the Profound Whale Blood Marrow Pill.

Both pills had been stripped of the violent side effects inherent in their ingredients. Whether taken to widen the meridians throughout his own body or given to others in the future, they were top-quality pills.

One pattern shimmered a deep ink blue, originating from the demon whale's remnant soul within the ten-thousand-year whale glue, and carried the might of a deep-sea giant whale's thunderous roar. The other was pale emerald and greenish brown, born from the lingering innate energy of the dragon scale grass, and brimming with the tenacity of twisting vegetation.

The two patterns drifted out of the refinement space along streams of light through the void and settled into the flesh of his left shoulder, silently merging with his physical origin. Ordinarily, they concealed every trace of their presence beneath his skin and flesh, all but impossible to notice without close examination.

Each had its own unique use. When suddenly activated during close combat, the ink-blue pattern would release the deep-sea giant whale's shuddering might, striking the opponent's mind and disrupting the circulation of their soul power. The greenish-brown pattern would spread resilient plant energy, locking the opponent's limbs like binding vines to slow their movements, or turning into spikes to pierce them.

Activated together, the two patterns would interweave ferocious might and woody resilience in a surprise assault-a concealed killing move hidden within his body.

These were merely appetizers.

A faint light flashed across the crimson ring, and a pitch-black crystal threaded with wisps of fragmented silver-white light rose from the storage dimension and settled quietly into his palm.

This was the Ten-Thousand-Year Thorn Dragon Crystal, a condensation of a lesser dragon's lifetime of bloodline power and soul power. Its core held a complete spatial-rending law, and an untamable remnant soul of the Dragon Clan lay dormant inside.

Tang Qingye raised his hand and sent the entire crystal into the refinement space constructed by the Heavenly Cang Sword Intent.

The circulating power of laws wrapped around the dragon crystal layer upon layer, wearing away the brutality surging within it.

Deep inside the crystal, its origin power crashed madly against the surrounding barriers. Countless tiny spatial fractures burst from its body, sending chilling, rending force spraying in every direction.

Pure soul power surged continuously through his meridians. Tang Qingye's expression remained unchanged as he used his own Dao resonance to suppress the rampaging Dragon Clan origin, stripping away the crystal's impurities layer by layer and dissolving them all within the space's laws.

After a long period of refinement, the ferocious impurities were scoured away, and a strand of pure Black Dragon origin emerged.

Drawn by the space, the tremendous origin power swept up a weighty aura of the Dragon Clan and rushed straight into the depths of the Seven-Colored Heaven-Slaying Gourd, into the chaotic space that housed the Seven Ancient Law Swords and sealed jade slips containing all manner of techniques.

"Humm!"

A low vibration echoed throughout the entire sea of consciousness.

Sensing power of a shared origin, the seven ancient law swords standing silently within the space hummed in unison.

Beneath restrictions weathered by time, an ancient dark-cyan jade slip emerged from the chaotic void.

The dragon patterns on its surface were bold and vigorous, covered with sealing inscriptions accumulated over the years.

The Black Dragon origin continuously washed over and poured into it. The sturdy restrictions crumbled inch by inch amid an unending series of crisp cracks.

Nine-colored radiance erupted from the jade slip. An immense flood of ancient, overbearing cultivation information poured forth like a cascading river of stars, imprinting itself entirely within Tang Qingye's sea of consciousness.

Nine Dragon Canon: when activated, this technique drew upon one's own soul power, combined with nine kinds of dragon origin power, to form nine dragon-shaped Dao marks within the dragon mansion. Each Dao mark could manifest a dragon phantom, which carried the unique attributes and might of its corresponding dragon soul. Fire dragons burned with flame, lightning dragons summoned electricity, earth dragons suppressed the land-each possessed its own means of slaughter.

The nine dragon phantoms circled through the air, their bodies lengthening according to their bloodline grade. Phantoms formed from sacred dragon or lesser dragon souls could reach over a hundred zhang in length, their scales flowing with the brilliant light of their corresponding origins. Their united roars shook the void, suppressing all cultivators of the same rank!

Tang Qingye opened his eyes, the cultivation information clear within his mind.

This technique's killing power stood above all others of the same rank, incomparably domineering.

The jade slip's information was explicit: Dragon Clan essence blood, dragon-type soul bones, dragon crystals, or pure Dragon Clan bloodlines—so long as they involved dragons, all could serve as materials for its forging, differing only in strength.

Nine completely different, independent dragon patterns had to be imprinted within one's sea of consciousness.

With even one kind missing, its power would be greatly diminished.

If their attributes conflicted, they could even backlash against the user.

For ordinary soul masters, this was practically a suicidal technique that guaranteed death.

After all, no one's body could withstand the Dragon Clan's violent factors and bloodline conflicts.

But for Tang Qingye, who possessed a heaven-defying refinement space capable of washing away all brutality, this supposed threshold was nothing more than a game of collecting materials.

Tang Qingye chuckled inwardly. Dragon Valley's grand stage-come on over if you're broke. Heh heh heh heh.

He collected his thoughts, drawing all the pure Thorn Dragon origin into his body and settling it into his dragon mansion.

The Black Dragon origin circled and contracted within the dragon mansion, condensing into a dense vortex threaded with silver-white sparks of spatial light.

"Rise."

Tang Qingye gave a low shout.

The vortex abruptly accelerated. Pure Dragon Clan spatial soul power traveled and intertwined through the meridians all over his body, condensing layer upon layer.

A faint dragon roar came from within him, deep, ancient, and fierce.

At the center of the dragon mansion, the phantom of a small, finely formed dragon materialized.

Its horns were imposing, its scales orderly, and its entire body as black as dark iron. Bone-chilling strands of silver-white spatial light wound between every scale. This was the Nine Dragon Canon's first dragon phantom, the Thorn Prison Dragon.

With only a single dragon origin supporting it, the phantom was still faint and insubstantial, far from the perfected state of nine dragons united, capable of shattering mountains and crushing peaks. Yet the spatial-rending edge hidden within its body was already sharp and intimidating.

Tang Qingye rose to stand on the bed.

With a slight stir of his thoughts, the Thorn Prison Dragon phantom within him swept along his meridians and out through his arm.

"Sssht!"

A shrill, piercing sound of tearing space erupted. The air before him was forcibly ripped open into a pitch-black fissure, which healed in an instant as a razor-sharp gust struck his face.

"Decent power."

The power of a single lesser dragon soul was indeed a hundred million kinds of ordinary.

Tang Qingye gave a slight nod, a faint smile passing through his eyes.

Feeling that nearly thirty percent of his soul power had vanished in an instant, he raised his eyebrows somewhat helplessly.

This thing was strong, sure, but it fucking guzzled mana.

If I fired off a few in a row, my current soul power would probably be sucked dry.

This Daoist has succeeded, but for now, it looks like I'm still a "three-second real man" who can only manage a burst.

"Whew..."

Tang Qingye let out a long breath of stale air and tapped lightly at the void. The isolation formation surrounding him dispersed like ripples on water.

The instant the formation collapsed, the sounds of the outside world that it had shut out flooded in like a tide.

"Rumble!"

Thunder-with this heaven-reaching cultivation, a purple-gold hammer that brought down the sky and shattered the earth.

Tang Qingye turned to look out the window.

The night sky, clear only moments earlier, was swallowed in an instant by layers of dense black clouds. Through the pouring curtain of rain, the Soul Guidance Neon Lights floating throughout Shrek City blurred into hazy, scattered colors.

Fierce winds hurled bean-sized raindrops hard against the Soul Guidance Alloy Window Frame. An unbroken barrage of sharp pattering tore the late-night stillness to shreds.

He was about to look away when his brow suddenly furrowed.

Amid the clamor of thunder and rain, an extremely faint yet unusually chaotic fluctuation of soul power drifted through gaps in the wall and into his perception.

That presence was the unique aura of Leng Nu Jiao's martial soul.

During ordinary meditation, a person's soul power should circulate smoothly and in an orderly manner.

But the fluctuations coming from next door churned violently, wrapped in unmistakable tremors of panic. Clearly, her martial soul had been provoked by fear deep within her heart and was stirring instinctively beyond her control.

"Jiaojiao?"

Tang Qingye called softly, rose, and walked straight toward the guest room next door.

Standing outside, he could hear intermittent, suppressed gasps through the door.

He reached out, grasped the cold metal handle, and gently turned it. The door was unlocked and slid inward without a sound, bringing the dim scene inside fully into view.

Not a single Soul Guidance Lamp was lit in the room, and thick darkness drenched every corner.

A deathly white flash of lightning tore across the sky. Its light slanted through a gap in the incompletely drawn curtains, briefly illuminating the entire room.

In a corner of the bed, Leng Nu Jiao was curled tightly into a ball.

Her usually flamboyant, wine-red high ponytail had long since come loose. Long strands of hair lay scattered over the bedding, disheveled and stripped of their proud bearing.

The Ink Jade Spirit Bamboo martial soul that had shone with three-colored spiritual light during the day was now clutched tightly in her arms. The halo of soul power around its stalk flickered, unable to soothe even a fraction of the terror in her heart.

She buried her entire face between her knees. Every time thunder rolled, her slender body shook violently beyond her control.

"Rumble!"

Another heavy peal of thunder crashed down.

An irrepressible little cry seeped, muffled, from the bedding, broken and helpless.

Tang Qingye understood. Leng Yaozhu had once said that Leng Nu Jiao had been an orphan since childhood, abandoned on the streets on just such a night of thunder and rain.

So that was it-a childhood trauma. This time, I should start by talking about the pain of her family of origin.

Although Leng Yaozhu had later brought her back to the Spirit Pagoda and cared for her attentively, the fear that night had carved into her very marrow had remained buried deep in her heart, never fading.

What was an ordinary rainstorm to others was, to her, an inescapable nightmare.

He softened his footsteps, walked to the bed, and quietly sat down on its edge.

"Jiaojiao."

His voice was gentle, without the slightest harshness.

The curled-up girl's body suddenly stiffened.

Leng Nu Jiao raised her head shakily. Her emerald eyes, usually cool and proud, were now veiled in a thin mist of tears, their depths filled with panic and a little embarrassment at having her vulnerability exposed.

Recognizing Tang Qingye, she instinctively tried to withdraw the restless Spirit Bamboo martial soul in her arms. Her voice was thick with tears and faltered repeatedly. "Y-young master... why did you come in... I'm fine. I was only cultivating."

"You're lying."

Tang Qingye sighed softly and lifted his fingertips slightly. A warm, gentle green light rose from his palm-the plant power unique to the Taiyi Azure Wood Mark.

The pale-green glow brushed over the Ink Jade Spirit Bamboo. The previously restless martial soul immediately settled, turning into a streak of light and silently withdrawing into her body.

The girl's face was pale and ashen with fear. Tang Qingye lifted half the covers and spread his arms. "Come here."

Leng Nu Jiao bit her lower lip tightly and plunged into his embrace without a second thought.

With a soft hum, the girl's warm, soft body pressed against him. Her thin loungewear did nothing to block the delicate softness of her touch.

The faint, fresh fragrance unique to her lingered at his nose, dispelling the rainy night's damp chill.

Leng Nu Jiao wrapped her arms tightly around his back and buried her entire face in the hollow of his shoulder, as though wishing she could press herself into his flesh and bones. Her murmur was thickly nasal. "Mm... young master, don't leave me."

"I won't. I'll stay right here."

Tang Qingye raised his arms around her slender shoulders, his palm slowly and gently stroking her loose, smooth, wine-red hair again and again.

Where their skin touched, the Taiyi Azure Wood Mark's warm plant soul power flowed slowly, soothing little by little the soul power running wild inside her from fear and dispelling the cold from her limbs and bones.

Nestled in Tang Qingye's warm, steady embrace, she felt as though a barrier had suddenly fallen between her and the howling winds and deafening thunder outside, leaving them unable to disturb her mind.

All that remained beside her ear was the youth's calm, even heartbeat, each beat solid and dependable.

Warmth wrapped around her, and a sense of safety filled her. The emotions that had been taut all night suddenly relaxed, and heavy exhaustion swept over her.

Leng Nu Jiao's fingers gradually loosened their grip on his clothing. Her lashes lowered, tears still clinging to their tips, but her awareness had already grown hazy, and she unconsciously nuzzled farther into his embrace.

Tang Qingye followed her movement and lay down on his side, drawing the covers over them both.

Outside the window, wind and rain continued; on the bed, the two nestled together.

Leng Nu Jiao's slender little hand rested unconsciously against his chest, her cheek pressed to his collarbone, as her breathing gradually grew long and even.

Lowering his gaze to the girl asleep in his arms, Tang Qingye closed his eyes as well.