Middle Realm, Xīng Huī Continent, Qǐ Luó City — He Huan Sect
It had already been nearly a month since Sui Sui invited Long Yizhou to live with him. So far, things have gone surprisingly well. The little boy, who had once been silent and guarded, had adjusted quickly under Sui Sui's care.
In fact, the two had surprisingly grown much closer.
Almost overnight, Yizhou had begun to shed his wary shell. That tense, cautious look he always carried had disappeared, replaced by something far more fitting for a child his age. Now, he clung to Sui Sui like a little tail, wide-eyed and curious, acting more and more like a proper six-year-old with each passing day.
A good example of this was whenever they strolled through the sect, Yizhou would instinctively reach out for Sui Sui's hand, his little fingers curling around Sui Sui's with practiced familiarity.
Similarly, during mealtimes, the boy would always push over a piece of his food towards Sui Sui's plate, even when there wasn't much on his own plate to begin with.
And then on days when Sui Sui had to tend to the herb fields, Yizhou would always insist on tagging along. He'd puff up his chest, declaring his desire to help. It was funny, because Yizhou's legs were still too short, and after a few steps towards the next mountain peak, he'd inevitably fall behind, so Sui Sui would have no choice but to carry the embarrassed boy on his back. It was a good thing cultivators had stronger bodies so Sui Sui didn't feel Yizhou's heaviness.
In short, he had become a full-time, hands-on nanny. Not that he minded it though.
Everything had been going well, peaceful even, but it was still a bit regrettable that they had yet to establish contact with little Yizhou's clan.
Thankfully though, the boy didn't seem nearly as distressed about it as he had been during that first attempt. Back then, he had been visibly anxious.
Sui Sui had even prepared to comfort the boy in case he felt sad, but to his surprise, none of that came. Instead, Yizhou appeared to be very happy and relaxed here, the boy acted as if he had long stopped waiting for a reply.
It was odd, honestly. Sui Sui could tell that the boy didn't seem as eager to return as the first time.
But as strange as that was, he didn't press. Everyone had their reasons, and Sui Sui had long learned not to dig into what someone wasn't ready to say.
As long as Yizhou wasn't sad, then that was enough for him.
Another fortunate thing was that, so far, no one seemed to suspect that Yizhou wasn't originally from the He Huan Sect. Perhaps it was because he was simply too cute that he fitted right in the He Huan Sect.
Everything was really going well, Sui Sui was very happy.
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Upper Realm, Eastern Territories of Xian Yu Continent — Dragon Clan.
In one of the courtyards of the Dragon Clan, three men were engaged in a very serious conversation.
One of them sat on the edge of a bed, his back slightly hunched as if even sitting upright took effort. His features were striking, refined and noble, with eyes shaped like blooming plum blossoms and his long hair flowed like curtains in the wind. There was no denying his beauty. However, his skin was ghastly pale, almost translucent under the light, making him appear as if he were on the brink of death. The contrast between his graceful appearance and his frail condition was stark, so much so that even a single breath from him seemed labored.
"Have you found him yet?" The question was spoken by the man clad in flowing purple robes, his voice tight with restrained panic. His features, usually refined and composed, were now marred by visible worry.
Kneeling on one knee, a young man in dark blue robes lowered his head. "Apologies, Madam. We still have no clues as to the young master's whereabouts."
The man in purple staggered, as if the last bit of strength had been drained from his body. His body nearly gave out, but before he could fall, a broad figure beside him caught him with practiced ease, holding him upright without a word.
The man who had caught the purple-robed figure was much taller, his presence commanding even in silence. He wore a black robe embroidered with fine golden threads, the intricate patterns glinting faintly under the moonlight. His features were sharp and imposing, carved with a sternness that made him seem difficult to approach. His golden eyes glowed faintly in the dark night, cold and unreadable like a beast in the shadows.
But the moment his gaze fell on the fragile figure in his arms, all that icy aloofness faded. The golden glow in his eyes softened, as though all warmth in him was reserved solely for this one man.
These two were precisely Long Yizhou's parents.
It had already been several days since the boy vanished. They had turned the entire Upper Realm upside down, searching tirelessly, yet still, not a single trace of their son could be found.
"Husband… we have to find Zhou'er. My baby… my baby…" The man in purple choked on a sob, his voice fragile and trembling as he buried his face against his husband's chest. His body, already weakened by illness, trembled with each breath. The news of their missing child had only worsened his condition.
Eventually, the exhaustion overtook him. His sobs grew fainter, breath growing shallow, until at last he fell asleep—pale lips parted slightly, chest barely rising.
Watching his wife finally fall asleep, the taller man's expression turned even colder. There was nothing more terrifying than a dragon with a reason to burn.
He hated this, hated everyone who had made his beloved like this: those wretched demons who attacked them, the servant who foolishly teleported their child away, the useless subordinates who still hadn't found a single trace and even hated his own son, for making his wife worry to this extent.
That was simply how dragons were: they were born indifferent to the world, and ruthless when necessary. Even though they lived within the same territory and called themselves a clan, dragons were innately solitary by nature, pursuing only power. They were cold and distant, even toward their own parents or children.
However….
There was always one exception to that icy detachment.
Every dragon, no matter how cold-blooded, reserved all their warmth, all their gentleness, for one person alone: their Dao companion.
Silently, he pulled the frail figure in his arms closer, holding him as if shielding him from the world itself. His jaw tightened, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low—but every word rang with an unshakable resolve.
"Don't worry. We'll find him. If he's not in this realm… then we'll search every single one, no matter how many it takes."
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