Chapter 173 She’s Taking Revenge on Them

Chapter 173: Her Vengeance

A Chan emerged from the shadows, walking towards Zhou Ning. Bai Xiuming followed leisurely behind her, hands clasped.

Reaching Zhou Ning, A Chan saw her lips were pale, her face drawn and haggard.

A Chan crouched to meet her gaze. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Zhou Ning whispered, her weak voice tinged with relief. "Thank you for coming."

Day after day of torment in the village had driven her to despair. She had never imagined she would truly find a glimmer of hope.

"Don't thank me. They're despicable enough that I don't want them to get off easy."

A Chan raised her head, studying the dense web of red threads entwined around the dragon’s body. "You can’t return to your true form because of these threads and the four stone tablets?"

"Yes," Zhou Ning confirmed. "These red threads have been steeped in the blood of every villager from the foot of the mountain. If a new child is born, they tie on another thread belonging to that child."

A Chan frowned, not interrupting.

Zhou Ning looked towards the nearby stone tablets, continuing, "These stone tablets are also inscribed with their blood, re-etched many times each year. They used the villagers to set up a formation, to trap my soul within this body."

She had once been innocent and naive. But after ten years living in White Dragon Village, day and night among them, she had learned everything there was to know.

She knew that Xia Xun’s ancestors were no ordinary people; they had simply fallen on hard times and moved to this village.

After a so-called sacrificial ritual, she was confined in the underground palace. From beneath the ladder, she overheard him and the village chief discussing how they could trap her because of his ancestors.

He said his ancestors had once devised a formation specifically targeting dragons, which later generations refined with their knowledge. By his great-grandfather’s time, their sole obsession was to capture a dragon to change their fate. They searched everywhere for a dragon’s trace, and when they finally found one, it swept them with its tail, leaving them mortally wounded and beyond cure.

He never thought that this wish would ultimately be fulfilled by him, and in that, he hadn't shamed his ancestors.

By then, Zhou Ning no longer felt anger at their words, only mockery. How could she have ever thought Xia Xun was a kind child?

"Destroying the stone tablets and breaking the red threads will break the formation, right?" A Chan’s voice roused Zhou Ning from her reverie.

"Yes," Zhou Ning nodded quickly. "But these red threads can’t be cut with scissors, and the stone tablets seem rooted deep in the earth."

A Chan stood, walked to a stone tablet, and tried pushing it. As expected, it didn’t budge.

She looked down. The threads entwining the dragon’s body were divided into four sections, one of which was pinned beneath the tablet, stretched taut. The material resembled thick cotton thread.

A Chan rummaged through her belongings for a while, finally pulling out only the counter-scale. Thinking it sturdy enough, she tried using the scale.

As the dragon scale scraped forcefully against the red thread, a harsh grating sound erupted. After a moment, she moved the dragon scale away; the red thread remained completely undamaged.

"That's really tough."

Zhou Ning tilted her head, watching A Chan busy herself by the stone tablet. Her previously tense emotions suddenly relaxed.

In her vision, A Chan still appeared human, but behind her, eight tails had sprouted. Though mere illusions, Zhou Ning recognized them as fox tails.

At this moment, those tails were wagging joyfully. Clearly, A Chan was not troubled by the formation; instead, she was becoming more interested.

After her attempt, A Chan didn't continue to struggle. Instead, she turned and beckoned, "Bai Xiuming, come here quickly."

Her expression suggested she was about to show him something remarkable.

Bai Xiuming took a few long strides to reach A Chan. Before he could react, A Chan grabbed his right hand, then stroked the back of it with her other hand, looking up at him with a fawning smile. "Lord Bai, it's time to test your strength."

While other methods might also break this formation, they would require time for research. Since the simplest, no-brainer solution was available, it was naturally the one to use.

A Chan felt smug. Her most thorough preparation today had been Bai Xiuming.

After letting her have her way for a moment, Bai Xiuming finally bent down and, with a backhand, gripped A Chan’s hand holding the counter-scale. As he moved, the scale scraped across the red threads again, producing continuous snapping sounds until, finally, the resistance against the scale completely vanished.

In the blink of an eye, all the red threads suppressed by this stone tablet snapped. Then, Bai Xiuming’s left hand took her other hand and pushed it towards the stone tablet.

The previously unmoving stone tablet, upon contact with her fingers, suddenly developed a crack on its surface. The crack extended downwards, branching out, and countless fissures spread across the tablet.

Finally, the engraved character "镇" (suppress) flickered twice before fading away completely.

The next moment, the stone tablet cracked and shattered into countless pieces, with several rolling to A Chan’s feet, transforming into ordinary stones.

A Chan was very satisfied with this result. Her eyes curved into a smile when she suddenly heard Bai Xiuming ask in her ear, "Was I useful?"

"Extremely useful," A Chan replied without hesitation. She tilted her head and whispered into Bai Xiuming’s ear, "Lord Bai, you're amazing."

"Verbal praise isn't enough."

Bai Xiuming lowered his gaze to the delicate face and slightly upturned red lips so close to him, his eyes deepening. He decided to reward himself.

The moment his nose brushed hers, A Chan quickly raised her hand, pressing a finger to his lips. She glanced towards Zhou Ning, and seeing that the other seemed not to notice their actions, she whispered, "Don't mess around. The little dragon isn't an adult yet."

Bai Xiuming squeezed her hand, his tone displeased. "Her age might be greater than your grandfather's."

"That's still not allowed."

As the two were speaking, Zhou Ning, who had been leaning against the dragon's body, suddenly went limp and collapsed to the ground, losing consciousness. At the same time, the coiled dragon's body began to undulate slightly, and then, the dragon opened its eyes.

Her eyes were grayish-white, as if covered by a film, obstructing her view of the outside world.

With just one corner of the formation broken, Zhou Ning successfully returned to her body.

At this moment, her world was only darkness, yet it brought her an extraordinary sense of peace. Even the continuous pain radiating through her body made her happy.

She was back in her own body.

She stretched her body, propping herself on her four claws, lifting her head, and flicking her tail. Coupled with her heavily scarred body, missing most of its scales, she hardly looked majestic.

Yet A Chan could feel her joy at this moment.

A Chan was pulled to her feet by Bai Xiuming. After the little dragon twisted and turned, adapting to her body, A Chan asked, "Next, do you want to leave here?"

The little dragon turned her head towards the sound. She couldn't see, but she could sense A Chan standing there through her divine sense. As for the other person, she couldn't perceive him.

Trapped in Zhou Ning's body for over a decade, her soul had been steadily weakening. But now that her soul and body were reunited, she discovered that her divine sense was several times stronger than before.

Now, her divine sense could leave her body, allowing her to perceive every rustle of wind and grass around her. Although not as effective as sight, it was enough to prevent her from losing her bearings.

After her initial joy, she remembered to answer A Chan’s question. She said, "I don't want to leave just yet."

Despite being a massive dragon, her voice was as clear and crisp as a little girl's. Just as A Chan had said, she hadn't reached adulthood yet; for dragons, she was still a hatchling.

"If you don't want to leave, then what do you want to do to them?" A Chan asked, intrigued.

The little dragon fell silent, then after a while, spoke, her tone somewhat low: "They were originally very kind to me."

A Chan recalled what she had seen in her dream and nodded. In the first half of that dream, the villagers of White Dragon Village were indeed not bad people.

Friendly and hospitable, even now, if outsiders were to judge, they would still be considered good people.

But humans are complex; they have many facets. And human nature has never withstood the test.

"I will give them a chance," the little dragon lay back down. "They once saved me, so I'll give them one chance to choose. In the same situation, if anyone makes a different choice than before, I will let those people go."

"Through dreams?" A Chan asked.

The little dragon likely had a talent for this. Just a single scale could make her dream. Now that she was free, controlling the dreams of White Dragon Village villagers should be very easy.

"Yes," the dragon nodded her head. "If they make the same decision as before, they will come to this temple, to me. Otherwise, they won't remain in the village."

A Chan was very interested in the test proposed by the little dragon. She really wanted to know how many people would remain in the village, or if there would be none at all.

She said excitedly, "Then let's start now. I can wait with you to see the results."

"Alright."

The little dragon closed her eyes. At that moment, the rain over White Dragon Village suddenly intensified, pounding on the muddy, uneven ground, creating bubbles.

The bubbles burst, and a wisp of mist drifted out.

Before long, the entire White Dragon Village was enveloped in white mist.

At this time, the village was quiet. The villagers slept soundly in their homes. The sound of the rain outside did not wake them; instead, it lulled them into sweet dreams.

The mist seeped through cracks in doors and windows into the houses, and then, with their breathing, entered their nostrils.

The villagers had a dream. At this moment, they did not yet know that they were all having the same dream: they dreamed that an injured dragon had fallen on the mountain behind their village.

It was their first time seeing a living dragon, not just in legends or stories.

At the village chief’s urging, they all brought out their household grain and the herbs they had painstakingly gathered from the mountain, originally intended for sale, to save the dragon.

Soon after, the dragon recovered and was ready to leave the village.

Before leaving, she said she would leave a water source for the water-scarce village. From then on, the villagers would have an inexhaustible supply of water, and even during droughts, they would not die of thirst. This news sent the entire village into a frenzy.

Then, Xia Xun found the village chief. He said he could make the white dragon stay in the village forever.

He said that dragons were incredibly powerful; even a scale shed from her body was an extremely precious treasure.

If the dragon stayed in their village, no demons or ghosts would dare approach. With her presence, their village would enjoy favorable weather and abundant harvests year after year, and they would no longer worry about water or food shortages.

A dragon's lifespan was so long; staying in the village for a short time was nothing. They had saved her, so it was not too much to ask for some insignificant repayment.

Moreover, it was merely keeping her, not harming her.

The village chief, who had just been ecstatic about the water source, hesitated. He couldn't make an immediate decision and instead sought out several respected elders in the village to discuss it with them.

The elders also couldn't make a decision.

Finally, everyone in the village learned the news.

They listened in silence as Xia Xun spoke. At first, no one uttered a sound, until someone in the crowd shouted, "Keep the white dragon!"

Then, more and more people began to agree. As long as the white dragon stayed, they would gain more. Xia Xun was right; they had saved the white dragon, and merely confining her for a short period was a fair repayment.

They weren't doing it intentionally; life was simply too difficult.

They would release her soon, just a few years... a few decades would suffice. By then, when they were gone, the next generation could release the white dragon.

Xia Xun said that as long as they used their blood to dye cotton threads and entwine them around the white dragon, she would form a bond with everyone in the village and stay for them.

He did not tell them exactly how the white dragon would be kept.

But that day, everyone in the village, young and old, cut their palms, collected their blood in bowls, and handed it to Xia Xun.

The dream ended. The scene in the dream froze, faded, and then collapsed.

Everyone made the exact same choice as before. Even the children born later, who hadn't experienced the initial scene, offered their blood in the dream, just as they would have in reality.

Outside, the rain grew heavier. The previously sleeping villagers, like mindless automatons, stepped barefoot from their beds and walked through the torrential rain towards the back mountain, heading for the White Dragon Temple.

Young and old, big and small, the entire village—not a single person was left behind.

Bai Xiuming led A Chan out of the underground palace. The little dragon broke open the entrance and also emerged.

A Chan sat on a cushion in front of the main hall, waiting. Outside the temple, Xia Xun stood motionless, his gaze vacant.

A Chan merely glanced at him before looking away; he was just an ordinary person with sordid intentions, nothing more.

Not long after, more and more people appeared in her sight.

There was the old man who had shaped the dough dragon earlier in the day, the woman who had spoken to her, the teenagers she had seen playing by the river, and the village chief's family.

The little dragon's large head rested beside A Chan, and she said sadly, "Everyone has come."

The red threads, steeped in their blood, had trapped her, but they had also created a connection between them.

When she returned to her body, she could sense them, and even control them.

When they sought to trap a dragon, they probably never imagined that the moment she broke free, they would no longer be the ones holding the chains.

Watching the crowded villagers, A Chan stood up from the cushion and brushed the dust from her skirt. Despicable people, indeed, never disappointed her.

A Chan did not ask how the little dragon would treat them. Instead, she patted her large head and said, "I'll be leaving here at dawn. Will the rain stop by then?"

The little dragon nodded. "It will stop. Tomorrow will definitely be a good day."

A Chan’s lips curved into a smile, and she handed over the counter-scale she had been holding. "Your scale."

The little dragon blinked, her tone filled with solemnity. "This is my counter-scale. If you ever need me in the future, use it to find me. I can do anything for you."

A Chan stroked her still-growing dragon horns and said, "Alright, I'll come find you, but only after you've grown up."

The little dragon's large head moved, gently rubbing against A Chan's palm.

She said, "A Chan, goodbye."

"Goodbye."

A Chan and Bai Xiuming walked past the dense crowd. The White Dragon Temple grew farther and farther behind them, eventually merging completely with the darkness.

The next morning, the sun shone brightly, and the sky was a clear blue; last night's heavy rain had washed the heavens clean.

The caravan left the village at dawn. Just as they were welcomed into the village, Zhou Huai personally saw them off this time. Besides him, several half-grown children surrounded the caravan, asking Lie Xian to bring more sweets from the capital next time.

As the carriage drove away from the village, A Chan leaned out and looked back, seeing them standing behind the stone tablet carved with "White Dragon Village," watching the caravan depart.

Behind them, wisps of cooking smoke rose from the houses, as the villagers welcomed a new day.

After seeing off the merchant convoy, Zhou Huai returned home. Wu Shi brought the prepared dishes to the table, and the family gathered around, waiting for the village chief to take the first bite before they began eating.

At the table, the village chief asked Zhou Huai, "Did it rain most of the night?"

Zhou Huai nodded. "Yes, the rain was very heavy this time. The cattle shed was flooded."

But the village chief smiled broadly, repeatedly saying, "Good, good. With such good rain, this year's harvest will definitely be excellent."

Zhou Huai also smiled. "More outsiders came to buy offerings this time. After the White Dragon Festival, we can buy more land."

The Zhou family once barely made ends meet, but now there was meat on the table every meal, and they even had extra money to buy land.

"It's all thanks to the white dragon," the village chief sighed.

If he hadn't believed Xia Xun's words back then and forcibly kept the white dragon, they wouldn't have such a good life today.

Just then, the sky suddenly darkened, and roars like thunder echoed above White Dragon Village.

The sound was all too familiar. Almost all the villagers stepped out of their homes, looking up at the sky.

Amidst the rolling dark clouds, a dragon was weaving and circling.

The village chief's face changed drastically at the sight. He clutched Zhou Huai's hand, stammering, "Quick, quick, go..."

Before he could finish, a cluster of flames ignited from his feet out of thin air.

Not just him—every villager in this village who had consumed dragon blood was suddenly engulfed in fire.

The fierce flames burned on their bodies, and nothing could extinguish them.

Some jumped into the river, others rolled on the ground. Some shrieked, others begged for mercy. In an instant, the peaceful and harmonious White Dragon Village turned into a living hell.

Amidst the wails and screams, the dragon in the sky descended and landed in front of the Zhou household.

A massive dragon head peered over the courtyard wall. The village chief looked at the familiar dragon head, enduring intense pain, and pleaded with a trembling voice, "Ning Ning, please... for all the kindness we've shown you over the years... spare us."

The little dragon tilted her head. She opened her mouth, her voice still as clear as it was ten years ago: "Of course."

Before the village chief could rejoice, he heard her say in a very familiar tone, "The fire will go out tomorrow. You just need to hold on a little longer. It's just a small fire; endure it, and it will die down."

The village chief suddenly remembered. Every time during past White Dragon Festivals, when Zhou Ning was uncooperative, he would always persuade her to endure, just a little longer.

She was getting her revenge on them.