Chapter 171 Auntie Said We’re a Good Match

Chapter 171: The Aunt Says We’re a Perfect Match

A Chan gazed at the small counter-scale in her hand, a puzzled expression on her face.

It was said that dragons possessed counter-scales, and to touch one was to invite their wrath. Dragons were never easy to deal with; even a young one stretching could cause the earth to quake and the heavens to tremble.

Why did Zhou Ning possess a counter-scale? Could it be that a dragon truly resided in White Dragon Village? And what was Zhou Ning’s connection to it?

What was meant to be a mere temporary stop in a small village now concealed a captivating mystery.

Bai Xiuming sat up in bed. Seeing her eyes darting about as she stared at the dragon scale, he asked, “What are you thinking about?”

A Chan knelt by the bedside. “I’m thinking, should we get into some mischief tonight?”

Bai Xiuming offered a half-smile. “That depends on what kind of mischief.”

“Let’s go find the dragon,” A Chan said eagerly, her eyes sparkling.

“No interest.”

Seeing his immediate rejection, A Chan leaned closer and gently shook his arm. “Come on, come with me? It’s a dragon!”

“Haven’t you seen a dragon before?”

A Chan glanced at the ring on her finger, emphasizing, “I haven’t seen a living one.”

“If its counter-scale was plucked, it might already be dead.”

She immediately pouted. “Bai Xiuming, you’ve changed.”

Bai Xiuming remained unperturbed. “Who was it that said before getting out of the carriage that they wanted to sleep until the end of time and forbade me from disturbing them?”

A Chan’s gaze drifted away sheepishly—it was her.

His hand lightly pinched her lower back. “From here to the wilderness is still a three-day journey. Are your waist and legs no longer sore?”

A Chan let out a soft “Ah,” and whimpered playfully, “They’re still sore. Hurry up and rub them for me.”

As Bai Xiuming massaged her back, he asked, “Still want to find the dragon?”

She pondered seriously for a moment, then proposed a compromise: “How about I rest well tonight, and you accompany me to find the dragon tomorrow?”

As expected, if she could give up so easily, she wouldn’t be herself.

A Chan tugged at his shirt, swaying it back and forth. “Okay?”

Bai Xiuming looked up at the sky, a helpless expression on his face. “Fine.”

A Chan seemed full of boundless energy, yet by late afternoon, she was already too drowsy to keep her eyes open.

Only after she had fallen asleep did Bai Xiuming rise and leave the room.

By this time, the trading party had already begun preparing dinner. Lie Xian and his group were gathered in the open space in front of the house, playing chess while waiting for their meal.

From a distance, they spotted Bai Xiuming approaching in his white robes. Lie Xing called out, “Brother Bai, why are you alone? Where’s Miss A Chan?”

“She’s tired and resting.”

“Oh, then come sit with us, Brother Bai.” Just as Lie Xing was about to make space for him, they noticed a few people approaching from afar. These individuals were well-dressed, clearly not villagers.

As they drew near, the middle-aged woman leading them inquired, “We heard your trading party just returned from the capital and brought many fabrics from there?”

Lie Xian promptly replied, “Yes, we have plenty of fabrics and jewelry. Please come this way, madam.”

Lie Xian and another member of the trading party led them to the room where the goods were stored. Noticing Bai Xiuming watching them, Lie Xing explained, “They’re probably from a nearby county town.”

“Your trading party’s reputation is that widespread?” Bai Xiuming was surprised.

Lie Xing couldn’t help but chuckle. “Of course not. They must be here for the White Dragon Festival, and probably heard from Brother Zhou that our trading party was here, so they came to take a look.”

“White Dragon Festival?”

“Yes, tomorrow is the White Dragon Festival, unique to White Dragon Village. It lasts about twenty days, with the first three being the most lively. In previous years, many wealthy families from surrounding counties would specifically come to stay in the village for a few days to jointly worship the White Dragon.”

Bai Xiuming mused, “To attract so many people, this White Dragon Festival must have something unique?”

“These people are probably here for the offerings after the parade. They say the offerings from White Dragon Village are good for one’s health.”

“They say?”

Lie Xing shrugged. “These offerings are usually only distributed to the villagers. Outsiders who want them have to pay a considerable sum to request them.”

“Is that so?”

A Chan slept straight through until the next day. When she woke up, the room was empty, and a simple, still-warm breakfast was on the table.

After washing up, she sat down to eat. Before she could finish, she suddenly heard drumming outside.

Swallowing the last few bites, she pushed the door open and stepped out, surprised to find White Dragon Village unusually lively today.

The villagers had all changed into new clothes, their faces beaming with joy. It seemed many outsiders, like themselves, had also arrived in the village.

Seeing a large crowd gathered in the central open space, she wandered over.

Over a dozen tables had been set up in the open area. Several village women sat nearby kneading dough, while two bent-backed elders shaped the dough into dragon figures. Over a dozen dough dragons were already lined up on the table in front of them.

Aside from the dough makers, the rest of the open space was occupied by seven or eight strapping villagers piecing together carved wooden dragon sections. Finally, three of them worked together to attach the enormous dragon's head to the body, supported by a thick wooden pillar beneath.

Curiosity getting the better of her, A Chan asked a village woman beside her, “Ma'am, what’s all this for?”

The woman turned to look at A Chan and, seeing she wasn’t from the village, kindly explained, “This is the dragon statue for the White Dragon Festival ceremony.”

“Such a big dragon?”

“This isn’t big at all. It’s nothing compared to a real dragon.”

A Chan played along. “Ma'am, have you seen a real dragon before?”

Pleased by A Chan’s enthusiastic reaction, the aunt leaned closer and whispered, “Not just seen—I’ve even touched one with my own hands. Its whole body was covered in scales the size of palm leaves, so beautiful.”

“Really? When was this?”

“Of course it’s true. It was over ten years ago. That dragon was injured and lost so much blood. It was our villagers who saved it.”

“And then?” A Chan eagerly pressed. “Where did the dragon go? Did it stay in the village?”

“How could it? Once it recovered, it flew away. But it’s always watched over our village, ensuring bountiful harvests and fair weather.”

“No wonder White Dragon Village feels so prosperous—it really is under a dragon’s protection.” A Chan nodded knowingly.

“Of course, if you don’t believe it, just wait and see. It rains right after the parade, every year without fail.”

“That’s amazing! I must see it for myself.” A Chan looked up at the sky, which was bright and sunny, not a cloud in sight.

A Chan watched the lively scene for a while, then casually brought up Zhou Ning from the village chief's household.

This was common knowledge in the village, and the old woman didn’t think twice, answering her questions openly.

“You mean Ning Ning from the village chief’s family? That poor girl’s had it rough. When she was five, the village suffered a drought. Her parents went up the mountain to find food but never came back. Later, the village chief took pity on her and took her in.”

“During a drought, even the village chief’s family must have had barely enough to eat. It’s truly kind-hearted of him,” A Chan remarked admiringly.

“Indeed, good things come to those who do good. Not long after, the rain came back to our village, and we’ve never lacked water since. The chief’s family believes the rain came because of Ning Ning, so they treat her exceptionally well, always putting her first with food and clothes.”

“Really? I saw Ning Ning yesterday, and she barely said a word.”

“That’s right. She rarely goes out and hardly speaks to anyone,” the elderly woman sighed. “If she weren’t so odd, suitors would’ve worn out the chief’s doorstep long ago.”

A Chan chuckled at this. The woman, a little dazzled by her laugh, couldn’t help but ask, “How old are you, miss? Are you spoken for?”

Just as A Chan was about to answer, she spotted Bai Xiuming in the crowd and pointed at him. “I’m taken—that man over there.”

The woman followed her finger and saw Bai Xiuming, who stood out in the crowd. She nodded approvingly. “You two are truly a perfect match.”

Bai Xiuming happened to glance over just then. Seeing A Chan smiling at him, he made his way through the crowd toward her.

As A Chan prepared to join him, the woman reminded her, “The parade starts at 1 PM. Don’t forget to come.”

“I’ll remember. Thank you for the reminder.”

When Bai Xiuming reached A Chan, he led her away from the crowd and asked, “What were you talking about earlier? You seemed so happy.”

“The aunt said we’re a perfect match.”

“She’s got good taste.”

A Chan smiled, watching the growing crowd. “The aunt also mentioned that over a decade ago, an injured dragon came to the village and was saved by the villagers. Since then, it has blessed the village with good rains and harvests.”

“Sounds like a grateful dragon.”

Right at 1 PM, A Chan pulled Bai Xiuming to the village center to watch the parade begin.

By then, the wooden dragon that had been on the ground was lifted by a dozen strong men. The one carrying the dragon’s head was a young man in his twenties with thick eyebrows, sharp eyes, and a robust build.

A Chan heard people around her calling him “Brother Xun.” After some inquiries, she learned his name was Xia Xun. His family had fled famine and settled in White Dragon Village, where they lived as hunters.

By his generation, his family was gone, and he had supported himself through hunting since childhood.

As for why he was honored with carrying the dragon’s head—according to the villagers, Xia Xun was the one who had rescued the injured dragon.

Now, Xia Xun lived year-round in the White Dragon Temple in the mountains, praying for the village’s blessings. The villagers respected him deeply.

The parade soon began with the sound of gongs and drums. Xia Xun led the way with the dragon’s head, followed by offerings carried on palanquins, and then the village chief’s family.

A Chan saw Zhou Huai supporting an elderly man—likely the village chief.

Behind Zhou Huai were Zhou Ying and Zhou Ning. Zhou Ning seemed reluctant to move forward but was pulled along by Zhou Ying and Wu Shi, each holding one of her arms.

Traditionally, the parade would leave the village, carry the wooden dragon statue to the White Dragon Temple in the mountains, and then return.

Common folk weren’t allowed to enter the White Dragon Temple. A Chan followed the ritual procession to the foot of the mountain but was stopped by the villagers, only able to watch as the village chief's family followed the group carrying the wooden dragon into the temple.

The sound of gongs and drums continued incessantly, and occasional shouts could be heard from the temple. Everyone stood on their toes, craning their necks to see the White Dragon Temple.

The crowd waited at the foot of the mountain for over half an hour before the massive wooden dragon head finally reappeared in sight.

Unlike before, this time the wooden dragon was painted in vibrant colors. The eyes on the dragon's head were painted with red and gold pupils, and red scales were painted along its body, making it appear more lifelike from a distance.

The paint on the wooden dragon seemed not yet dry, dripping red liquid as it descended.

The procession made its way back to the village, and the crowd followed. A Chan, however, hung back.

She distinctly remembered Zhou Ning being part of the procession earlier, but after descending the mountain, only the village chief's family remained—Zhou Ning was nowhere to be seen.

Had she been left behind in the White Dragon Temple?

Noticing that A Chan and Bai Xiuming weren’t following the procession, the four villagers still guarding the foot of the mountain kept a wary eye on them.

A Chan ignored them. She knelt to inspect the red liquid dripping from the wooden dragon onto the ground—it looked unmistakably like fresh dragon blood.

She wasn’t in a hurry to figure it out. The procession wasn’t over yet, and she was more interested in seeing how they’d make it rain later.

They walked slowly, and by the time they returned to the village, the central area was already swarming with people.

A large pile of firewood was stacked in the open space at the center, with the enormous wooden dragon placed atop it. The smaller red-dyed dough dragons were arranged in a circle around the wooden one.

The drums beat faster and wilder, and A Chan noticed the excitement on the faces of both the villagers and the outsiders.

When the drumming paused, the village chief handed out flaming torches to the men who had carried the wooden dragon during the procession. The first torch was given to Xia Xun.

Once everyone held a torch, at the village chief’s shout of “Burn it!”, they used them to ignite the firewood.

The fire caught fast, crackling as it climbed up the dragon’s body. Just as the fire licked at its body, storm clouds rolled in.

The clear sky turned dark in an instant.

It was unclear if something else had been applied to the wooden dragon, but the flames burned even fiercer upon contact. Soon, large charred patches spread on the dragon’s body, resembling rotting flesh.

As the fire grew higher, a thunderous roar echoed, and rain came pouring down.

“It’s raining! The White Dragon has answered our prayers—”

Someone shouted first, and soon the crowd broke into cheers. The sudden downpour sent the ceremony into high gear.

The gongs and drums resumed, as if accompanying the jubilation.

A Chan and Bai Xiuming stood at the back of the crowd, completely dry despite the rain.

The aged village chief distributed offerings to the villagers. No one rushed to grab them; instead, they waited eagerly for their turn.

The rain grew heavier, extinguishing the fire, but no one paid it any mind.

Those who received offerings took them home, and the crowd gradually thinned, leaving mostly outsiders.

A Chan watched as they placed silver ingots into a donation box and took a dough dragon from the village chief.

Noticing her gaze, Bai Xiuming asked, “Do you want to try the offerings too?”

A Chan scrunched her nose in disgust. “Who’d eat that?”

If her guess was correct, those dough offerings had been soaked in dragon blood.

Dragons were vengeful creatures. If they died, their flesh, bones, and blood became valuable materials.

But if they were still alive and someone consumed their blood or flesh, it would mark them like a brand.

Though it seemed unlikely the dragon could fight back now, you never knew what might happen?