The Amnesiac, Sickly Beauty Is Pregnant With My Dragon Cub - Chapter 39.2

Cang Lan carried Yu Xuanji to the place where they usually planted immortal herbs and rishi mushrooms. The spiritual energy here was abundant. Though it was night, the fields were filled with countless floating fireflies.

Yu Xuanji lay motionless on Cang Lan. A long tail was wrapped around her waist, and from time to time, the tip of the tail would pat her buttocks and back, as if soothing someone to sleep.

But Yu Xuanji knew that the place Cang Lan wanted to “pat” wasn’t her back, it was…

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. Yu Xuanji gripped the tip of the tail tightly, her palm feeling a bit of sticky moisture.

Cang Lan, carrying Yu Xuanji, suddenly cried out when her tail tip was grabbed. She carried her into a bamboo house within a lush green grove.

The bamboo house was fully furnished. These were all things Cang Lan had arranged by herself. She hadn’t been here in so long that she had almost forgotten the place existed.

Yu Xuanji poked half her head out of the blanket and said angrily as she nipped Cang Lan’s earlobe, “Great. Now we can’t even go home. I told you to be gentler, but you just wouldn’t listen. You…”

Her words came to an abrupt halt. Yu Xuanji looked at the simple, rustic bamboo house and was stunned for a moment. “What is this place?”

Cang Lan smiled as she placed Yu Xuanji on the bed. “My lady, I built this bamboo house. Although it’s not as spacious as the cave dwelling, it’s livable.”

Yu Xuanji curled up in the blanket. Cang Lan took off her outer robe and gently draped it over her. She hesitated, “My lady, are you angry with me?”

Seeing that Yu Xuanji didn’t speak, Cang Lan thought she was truly angry. She knelt before her with a thud, hugged her legs, and began to wail, “My lady, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have ignored your words and collapsed the bed.”

Yu Xuanji stared at the bamboo house and asked hoarsely, “This house… you built it?”

Cang Lan shook her head. Not knowing why Yu Xuanji was asking, she replied, “I didn’t build it. I discovered this secret realm a thousand years ago. When I first saw the bamboo house, I thought someone else lived here. But I searched the place top to bottom and never found anyone, so it became mine.”

Yu Xuanji’s eyelashes trembled as her gaze scanned the room. Seeing her interest in the house, Cang Lan smiled and said, “If my lady likes it, we can stay here forever and not go back to the mountain cave.”

Yu Xuanji didn’t speak. She shook her head, then nodded. After a while, she said in a gravelly voice, “Alright. We will stay here.”

It was late, and after what had just happened, Cang Lan’s romantic thoughts had vanished. She held Yu Xuanji and closed her eyes, her tail rhythmically patting her back to coax her to sleep.

The moment Cang Lan fell asleep, Yu Xuanji opened her eyes. She quietly watched the sleeping Cang Lan, her fingertips tracing Cang Lan’s cheek from top to bottom.

Yu Xuanji held the dragon tail and measured it against her own wrist, finding that even the tip of the tail was significantly thicker than her arm. A chill ran down her spine, and she shivered. She thought to herself that it was a good thing the first estrus period had passed; otherwise, this “bad dragon” wouldn’t be so easily controlled.

She tossed the dragon tail aside and turned over. However, as if the tail had eyes, it accurately coiled around her thigh again. Yu Xuanji’s eyes widened slightly. Looking down at the restless tail, she gave it a sharp slap. Though the force was negligible to a dragon, the tail tip slowly pulled away.

Lifting the blanket, Yu Xuanji stepped onto the floor barefoot and looked around the bamboo house. After many years of exposure to the elements, the once-bright green bamboo had turned yellow—the marks of time.

Yu Xuanji’s hand traced every reachable object, from the bamboo chairs and stools to the small woven bamboo ornaments hanging above. She slowly closed her eyes and, relying on the feelings in her memory, walked out the door without any hindrance.

Even though it was night, Yu Xuanji could see everything clearly. Small bridges, flowing water, cottages, and the overlapping mountains in the distance. Without even looking, she knew the mountains were covered in peach groves, though at this time of year, the blossoms had likely withered.

After walking for a while, she reached the boundary perceived by the dragon scale. Yu Xuanji tiptoed back into the bamboo house, put on Cang Lan’s outer robe, and lit a kerosene lamp on the desk.

The faint light quickly filled the room. Yu Xuanji stroked the tabletop and naturally pulled a roll of paper from the drawer. However, the white paper began to crumble the moment it touched her hand, turning to fragments with the slightest pressure.

The soreness from being tossed about by Cang Lan hadn’t faded yet. After a moment, Yu Xuanji looked at the sleeping dragon and gave her cheek a pinch. She sat at the desk with her head in her hands, her gaze somewhat vacant, lost in thought.

Indeed, even the most beautiful love requires restraint. Yu Xuanji supported her aching lower back, occasionally massaging it to relieve the stiffness and pain.

There were ink blocks, brushes, and an inkstone on the desk. Yu Xuanji went outside to get some water, ground the ink herself, and found some paper that hadn’t yet weathered. She began to write slowly.

She was writing Tao YuanLiang’s The Peach Blossom Spring.

As she reached the beginning, Yu Xuanji slowly put down her brush. She turned to look at the sleeping Cang Lan, a bitter smile playing on her lips. Who would have thought that the tables would turn? The “Prophet Dragon” who had once taught her how to read and write was now illiterate and required her to write copybooks to teach her.

Finishing the last character, Yu Xuanji set down the brush, kissed Cang Lan’s lips, and stepped out of the bamboo house. She stood under the peach tree, looking up at the golden full moon, slowly stroking the dragon scale that had merged with her wrist.

Facing the extreme cold of the Desolate Lands’ night, Yu Xuanji felt no discomfort. This place was different; even in the middle of the night, there was no trace of bitter cold. Standing under that peach tree, she stroked the texture of the trunk, wondering how many years it had lived here.

After staying outside for a while, she prepared to return. Turning around, she saw Cang Lan standing behind her, watching her quietly.

Yu Xuanji met Cang Lan’s gaze. She heard Cang Lan say with a smile, “My lady, it’s cold outside. Why did you come out?”

Yu Xuanji walked toward her and said, “I woke up and couldn’t sleep, so I came out for a walk.”

Cang Lan took her hand and asked, “My lady seems very familiar with this place.”

Yu Xuanji smiled. “I just wanted to see the scenery. This place is like heaven compared to the Desolate Lands.”

Cang Lan picked Yu Xuanji up in a horizontal carry and kissed her cheek. “It won’t be too late to look tomorrow. My lady, we should go back and rest. The scenery here is even more beautiful during the day.”

Yu Xuanji nodded, hooking her arms around Cang Lan’s neck. A single tear fell into the depths of Cang Lan’s collar.

Cang Lan noticed and looked up at the sky in confusion. “Eh? Is it raining? Something just fell into my clothes.”

Yu Xuanji said in a hoarse voice, “It’s probably do.”

As the night deepened, the mountain mist began to spread. Cang Lan closed the doors and windows and held Yu Xuanji, snuggling into her embrace.

Yu Xuanji kissed the top of Cang Lan’s head. “Alright, sleep.”

Cang Lan closed her eyes, but her mind was heavy. she had clearly smelled the scent of Yu Xuanji’s tears just now, yet the other had lied and called it dew. Given Yu Xuanji’s unusual behavior lately, Cang Lan felt she must be hiding something, though she couldn’t say exactly what it was.

While Yu Xuanji was asleep, Cang Lan slipped out of bed and began to wander around the room. Although Cang Lan knew of the bamboo house in the mountains, she had always assumed it was left by some immortal. Consequently, other than staying there occasionally, she hadn’t dared to touch the things inside.

But tonight, Cang Lan decided to investigate what was so special about this house and why Yu Xuanji acted so strangely the moment she entered.

Cang Lan tiptoed around the house but found nothing unusual until her gaze landed on the desk. Earlier, she had been woken by the sound of Yu Xuanji organizing paper. She had watched her quietly in the dark and saw her bowing her head to write something.

Cang Lan hadn’t looked closely then, so she went to the wooden table, sat in the chair just as Yu Xuanji had done, and looked at what had been written. After looking for a while, Cang Lan remembered this was the text Yu Xuanji had used for her copybooks. She could recognize about seventy or eighty percent of the characters.

Searching further, Cang Lan found nothing out of the ordinary. She carefully pulled open the drawer and, at the very bottom, found an untitled old book. She flipped through the pages and found a yellowed old piece of paper inside, which seemed to be stained with ink. Sitting at the table, she slowly unfolded the paper. What met her eyes were two crudely drawn little figures.

The ink was faint, but Cang Lan could see that the two figures were holding hands. One of them had a pair of dragon horns and a tail. Below the drawing was an inscription. In the dim light, Cang Lan saw a line of words:

—Drawn in the Year of Jiazi, on the Ninth Day of the Third Month, by Cang Lan.