The Amnesiac, Sickly Beauty Is Pregnant With My Dragon Cub - Chapter 62.1

After seeing off Shen Xiu and Tushan Bai, Huang Liu casually pulled the Cordyceps out of his pocket, held it in his palm, and leaned in curiously. “Cordyceps, I have a question for you.”

Cordyceps let out a loud yawn, leaning lazily to one side. “Speak quickly. I just woke up and you’ve already roused me again. You yellow weasels have no manners; I am your elder, after all.”

Huang Liu leaned into Cordyceps’ ear and whispered, “This question has been troubling me for a long time. I’ve always thought it takes a male and a female coming together to have a child. But my King and the Madam are both female; how are they supposed to have children?”

Cordyceps stroked his chin, thought for a moment, and smiled. “One look at you and I can tell you’re an ignorant bumpkin. In this world where spiritual energy runs rampant, is there anything spiritual energy cannot achieve? Besides, times have changed. You can even buy fertility medicine now. Getting pregnant is a simple matter, isn’t it?”

“Fertility medicine?” Huang Liu’s jaw dropped. “The Great Desolation actually has that kind of medicine?”

Cordyceps nodded, pulling several small medicine bottles tied together with red string from his pocket. “Look: Fake Death Pill, Aphrodisiac, Fertility Pill… and many more. I refined them all myself. If you want them, ten gold coins a bottle. If you buy the whole set, I’ll give you a twenty percent discount.”

Huang Liu looked disgusted. “What use do I have for these? These medicines of yours are probably just things you got from some unscrupulous merchant to cheat people out of their money.”

However, Huang Liu soon pointed curiously at the bottle of fertility medicine. “Is this medicine really as powerful as you say? You just eat it and you can have a child?”

Cordyceps explained, “It still requires a small catalyst. It must be taken after intimacy, while the lingering charm of passion is still present, for it to take effect immediately.”

Huang Liu thought about it and said, “Keep it for yourself. I haven’t even taken a wife; what use is such medicine to me?”

Cordyceps tried his best to push the sale. “Since you have no use for it, surely the King must. I checked the Madam’s pulse today and she isn’t pregnant. The King’s expression changed instantly—she’s so expectant of this child.”

Huang Liu frowned. “But we aren’t the Madam. To have a child, we’d need her consent. Why don’t you go talk to her? What if she likes children too? I’d love for the Madam to give birth to a little dragon cub soon so it can play with me.”

While Huang Liu and Cordyceps were discussing how many dragon eggs should be laid, the bedroom was filled with heat, currently in the very state of post-coital passion Cordyceps had described.

Cang Lan held Yu Xuanji, kissing her burning earlobes while panting. Taking the tiny red bead into her mouth, she smiled and said, “I felt it. So my lady feels this good every time? No wonder your cries make my heart flutter and my body go numb.”

Yu Xuanji sat in Cang Lan’s lap, her legs spread wide, leaning back as if depleted of all strength. She had originally wanted to cover Cang Lan’s mouth to stop her talking, but she didn’t even have the strength to lift a finger.

After a while, Yu Xuanji found her voice, saying hoarsely, “Let me down. I want to bathe.”

The corners of Cang Lan’s lips curled up, her pupils gradually shifting from a deep black-gold back to their previous pale gold. She leaned in with a smile. “Why bother bathing, my lady? Why don’t I just lick you clean?”

Faced with Cang Lan’s gentle allure, Yu Xuanji gritted her teeth and pushed her away. “No more. I can’t move my lower body; it’s still numb. Let me rest a bit.”

Cang Lan bit the tip of her tongue, preparing to give dragon blood to Yu Xuanji. Yu Xuanji pushed her away again, biting her lower lip and shaking her head. “No more. If I drink any more, it’ll really… mmm…”

Seeing Yu Xuanji reject her like this for the first time, Cang Lan felt a bit dazed. Her expression sharpened; she pinched Yu Xuanji’s chin with one hand, leaned down to kiss her lips, and swallowed back the blood that had seeped from her tongue.

After swallowing the blood, Cang Lan licked her swollen, crimson lips and bumped her forehead against Yu Xuanji’s. “Since my lady doesn’t like it, I won’t force you. As long as you are happy, I will do anything.”

Hearing Cang Lan’s resolute words, Yu Xuanji’s lips curved into a smile. It felt like a solemn vow, deeply engraved into her heart.

Soon, Yu Xuanji fell into a deep sleep against Cang Lan. Her violently racing heart slowly calmed down. After holding Yu Xuanji and lingering for a while, Cang Lan placed her on the bed, cast a cleansing spell, and walked out of the room soundlessly.

Cang Lan dressed herself, looked back silently at the sleeping Yu Xuanji, and turned to leave the bedroom. Standing at the door, she used her spiritual power to set a barrier that others could not open, though it did not restrict Yu Xuanji’s passage.

Huang Liu was still arguing with Cordyceps about exactly how many children should be born when a black shadow blocked their view. Huang Liu looked up and met Cang Lan’s face—pale as a ghost—and let out a terrified shriek, nearly dropping the bottle of fertility medicine.

Cang Lan nimbly caught the small medicine bottle. Seeing the words “Heir-Bearing Pill” written on it, she asked curiously, “What is this?”

Huang Liu quickly stood up to explain. “King, this is fertility medicine. Eating it makes one pregnant. I was just chatting with Cordyceps, and then you arrived.”

Huang Liu spoke with his head down, not noticing that Cang Lan’s face was growing paler. He poked Cordyceps’ hand. Cordyceps quickly spoke up: “Yes, King, I have many newly developed medicines here—fertility pills, bedroom secrets, aphrodisiacs, and so on. If you like them, I can make more for you.”

Cang Lan gripped the tiny bottle with her sharp dragon claws. A flick of her nail broke it open, and she poured the small pill into her palm.

The black shadow vanished in the blink of an eye. Huang Liu looked up to find Cang Lan gone, leaving only an empty bottle shattered into two halves on the ground.

Cang Lan went to the kitchen, her lips curling slightly, though there was no hint of a smile in her eyes. She took out a small bowl, placed the fertility pill inside, dissolved it with warm water, and added a spoonful of golden, sweet honey. After mixing it thoroughly, she carefully carried it to the bedroom.

Yu Xuanji was still sleeping soundly. Cang Lan walked to the bedside with light steps, set the bowl aside, and gently woke her. “My lady, you must be thirsty. Let me feed you some honey water.”

Cang Lan’s face was calm, but her heart was in turmoil. She leaned over to kiss the tip of Yu Xuanji’s nose. Sensing the other woman roll over, she smiled and said in the sweet voice she used to coax her: “My lady, let me help you up.”

Yu Xuanji opened her eyes slightly, sitting up with the help of Cang Lan’s arm. She moved her lips as if to say something. When the spoonful of fragrant honey water reached her lips, Yu Xuanji caught a whiff of its sweetness, though there was a faint, hidden bitterness masked by the honey—almost imperceptible.

Cang Lan smiled, meeting Yu Xuanji’s watery eyes. “My lady, drink quickly.”

Yu Xuanji’s lips curved. She parted them, pressed them to the spoon, and drank the sweet honey water. Once the sweetness passed, her tongue detected a slight, astringent bitterness.

Cang Lan fed Yu Xuanji spoonful after spoonful until the small bowl was empty.

Cang Lan stroked Yu Xuanji’s back, smoothing it from top to bottom. She set the bowl aside and held Yu Xuanji, nuzzling her. “My lady, sleep a bit longer. I’ll wake you for dinner tonight. I’ve learned how to make some delicious things from Ting Lan’s world; I’ll cook for you tonight.”

Yu Xuanji nodded, kissed the corner of Cang Lan’s mouth, and smiled. “Alright, I’ll be waiting.”

As Cang Lan left the room with the bowl, Yu Xuanji’s closed eyes slowly opened. She checked her own pulse and smiled helplessly, then took a small white jade bottle from the box at the head of the bed.

Opening the bottle, Yu Xuanji poured a black pill into her palm. It gave off a fragrant, sweet scent.

Recalling Cang Lan’s abnormal behavior just now, Yu Xuanji’s lips moved as she murmured, “Silly girl.” She then tilted her head back and swallowed the pill without hesitation.

Her snow-white throat bobbed. A cloyingly sweet taste lingered in her throat. She lay quietly on the bed, one hand gently stroking her lower abdomen.

After leaving the bedroom, Cang Lan pulled out a dark pill from her palm and looked at it. It was very small and smelled sweet. Cang Lan found the scent nauseating; she casually tossed the cloying pill into the kitchen’s slop bucket.

When Cordyceps went home at noon, he opened his medical chest to count his pills. The bottle of Heir-Bearing Pills had been taken by Cang Lan, leaving four bottles. He counted them and realized only three remained; the bottle of pills for nourishing yin and replenishing blood had vanished.

After searching the house and failing to find it, Cordyceps thought it probably fell into the Dragon Pond when he was startled by Cang Lan earlier. Since it wasn’t particularly precious medicine, he figured he’d just work hard to gather more herbs and make some more.

Cang Lan stood in the kitchen, her arms stiff as she washed the bowl she had used to feed Yu Xuanji. She dried it slowly, stroke by stroke, her gaze fixed on the window in the distance. She was so focused on drying it that she didn’t even notice Ting Lan walking up behind her.

Seeing Cang Lan dazed, Ting Lan waved a hand in front of her. “Cang Lan, I’ve finished drawing the ring designs.”

Cang Lan ignored her, wiping the bowl until it was spotless. She wiped the inside, then the outside—eventually, she wiped so hard the glaze on the outside was literally rubbed off.

Ting Lan snatched the bowl from her. “Are you even listening to me?”

Cang Lan turned her head blankly. Her eyes looked different than usual; her gaze seemed scattered, and her pupils had darkened from pale gold to a deeper shade.

Ting Lan froze. “Cang Lan, did you take something? You don’t seem right.”

An Zhi said, “I feel like she might have had a fight with the Master?”

Cang Lan shook her head and slowly closed her eyes. Her pupil color gradually lightened. She placed the bowl in the cupboard and said, “It’s nothing. You said the ring designs are done. Let me see.”

The three of them went to the study and An Zhi locked the door tight. They sat together, heads close, looking like they were plotting some high-level secret.

Cang Lan pointed at a “pigeon egg” sized diamond ring and asked in confusion, “This is what you call a pigeon egg? The diamond is too small. It’s barely bigger than my fingernail. How shabby. I think we should use a duck egg to be worthy of my lady.”

Ting Lan explained, “A big diamond is nice, but you have to consider practicality. The weight of a pigeon egg is just right for a finger. If we really used a diamond the size of a duck egg, would the Madam even be able to lift her hand?”

Cang Lan realized she had a point. “True. Then a pigeon egg it is. But I don’t know which diamond to choose. Diamonds at the bottom of the Dragon Pond are more common than sand—hardly treasure. What if my lady doesn’t like them?”

An Zhi rested her chin on her hand, thinking. “Are there any other precious stones in the Great Desolation for rings? In our world, diamonds are usually used. They come in every color. I think blue sapphires are the most expensive—priceless. Have you seen Titanic? The ‘Heart of the Ocean’ that Rose wore around her neck?”

Cang Lan blinked. “What is ‘Rose’? Is it edible?”

Ting Lan bit her lip and turned to An Zhi. “She definitely hasn’t seen it. I think we have a copy downloaded on our phone. Should we show her?”

An Zhi nodded. “Good idea. Let her experience some culture shock from our world.”

No sooner said than done. An Zhi pulled out a phone with twenty percent battery left, opened the cached video, found Titanic, and handed it to Cang Lan. “Watch this. It’s a classic. You’ll believe in love after watching it.”

Cang Lan sat at the desk while An Zhi and Ting Lan huddled close. There was nowhere to charge a phone in the Great Desolation, nor was there Wi-Fi. With danger everywhere, they were too afraid to go treasure hunting and preferred staying safely in the Dragon Pond to watch movies. Being near Cang Lan was the safest place in the Great Desolation.

Yu Xuanji didn’t wake up until the sunset filled the sky. Usually, she would wake to Cang Lan’s eyes, but today she saw the beautiful seven-colored clouds.

The clouds were reflected in her pupils. She watched for a while, then took the cracked phone from beside her pillow and recorded the stunning scene.

After recording, she flipped through her photo album and found many photos Cang Lan had secretly taken of her, as well as selfies. Cang Lan was beautiful, but her photography skills were… lacking. They had no sense of aesthetic.

Yu Xuanji kept scrolling, her smile deepening. She hadn’t even realized when these photos were taken.

Faint sounds of weeping reached her ears—someone was sobbing softly. Yu Xuanji threw back the covers to sit up, but a wave of dizziness hit her, and she fell back onto the bed with a muffled groan.

She placed two fingers on her left wrist to check her pulse. After a moment, her lips curved into a smile, and she slowly sat up again.

After resting for a bit, she threw on a robe, put on her shoes, and headed outside.

A golden barrier stood before her. She touched it and realized Cang Lan had set it. She smiled helplessly, picked up a small stone, and tossed it against the barrier. In an instant, the stone vanished, leaving not a trace of ash.

Yu Xuanji frowned, pressing her hand against the barrier to feel Cang Lan’s surging spiritual power. The energy in the barrier seemed to come alive, flowing toward Yu Xuanji and gently embracing her like a comfort.

Even the fearsome overlord of the Great Desolation had a heart more delicate than a strand of hair.

The weeping hadn’t stopped. Yu Xuanji followed the sound and found herself outside the study.

The door was closed, but the intermittent sobbing was clearly Cang Lan’s. She pushed the door open gently and saw the scene inside.

Cang Lan, An Zhi, and Ting Lan were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder at the desk. Before them was an image projected from one of Cang Lan’s scales—a scene Yu Xuanji recognized instantly. It was the final act of Titanic, where rain washed over Rose’s face as she looked up and said her name was Dawson.

An Zhi and Ting Lan were clutching each other, crying bitterly. Cang Lan was hugging herself, two streams of tears flowing down her face, her mouth twisted into a parallelogram from crying. She was so absorbed she didn’t even notice Yu Xuanji.

Hearing the three of them crying, Yu Xuanji sighed helplessly and slowly closed the door. Just as she was about to leave, Cang Lan flashed to her side and crashed into her arms, her face smeared with tears. “My lady! Waaaah—”

Yu Xuanji was knocked back a few steps by the clumsy dragon. She pulled Cang Lan into her embrace, using a handkerchief to wipe the tears from her face. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying like this?”

Cang Lan sobbed, “An Zhi and Ting Lan said they wanted to show me a movie—a treasure of your world. Who knew that as I watched, the ship would hit an iceberg and so many people would die? Jack died to save Rose! Waaaaah—”

Yu Xuanji comforted her, “It’s just a movie.”

Cang Lan shook her head vigorously. “No! An Zhi told me this actually happened and was made into a movie!”

Yu Xuanji let out a soft laugh, holding Cang Lan and stroking her back. “Life is full of partings, just as the moon has its phases. Things that happened in the past and present are beyond human control. Though Jack died, he remains forever in his lover’s heart. If he hadn’t won that ticket, perhaps he wouldn’t have died. But fate is fickle; there is always gain and loss.”

Cang Lan nodded, her crying slowly subsiding. She buried her face in Yu Xuanji’s neck and whispered, “My lady is right. I’m better now, it’s just that thinking about those two makes me feel they were so unlucky. If that ship hadn’t sunk, they surely would have lived happily together.”

Yu Xuanji kissed Cang Lan’s forehead. “That’s why fate is fickle. Isn’t it better to cherish the present? Don’t you think?”

Cang Lan sniffed and wiped her tears with her sleeve. “My lady is right. Live in the moment; don’t dwell on the past, or life will only get harder.”