In an instant, the surging baleful yin energy between heaven and earth vanished, the piercing shrieks disappeared, as if a mute button had suddenly been pressed.

The frenzied dragon grew quiet, falling from midair—yet still maintaining the posture it had just held.

Shu Tiantian lowered her head and saw that the dragon’s head was already in her arms. Of course, given Shu Tiantian’s size, what lay in her arms was only a section of its broken horn.

Shu Tiantian thought, Have I gone crazy?

Her mind was completely blank—so, this ferocious and terrifying evil dragon, in the midst of its frenzy just now, had lowered its head… and rubbed against her?

She touched her own arm. It was still there, not eaten, and the blood had vanished, even beginning to heal at an extremely rapid speed. When she looked down now, it was already completely healed. She knew it was because of the dragon—it had licked her wound, and she no longer felt pain.

Shu Tiantian had been injured, but she knew very clearly that today’s incident was entirely a case of immortals fighting and the mortals suffering the consequences.

Shu Tiantian stared at the broken horn and fell into a strange silence.

Although it was so fierce, so enormous, so powerful… but… but it had rubbed against her just now!!!!

Shu Tiantian touched her heart. She admitted that her not-so-iron heart of stone had softened.

Holding the broken horn, at this moment, despite her disheveled state, she had to admit that this enlarged version of Xiao Hei stirred a strange tenderness in her heart.

The reason it felt strange was that Shu Tiantian felt like a tiny ant pitying a dragon that could summon wind and rain—clearly, her mind was not quite clear.

But this was a dragon! As a child of Huaxia, whenever a cloud shaped like a dragon appeared in the sky, Shu Tiantian and her classmates would all repost it, praying for misfortune to retreat. As a traditional divine beast, it was truly hard for Shu Tiantian not to feel tender toward it.

She reached out and tried to push the dragon’s horn, but as if caught in immense pain, the giant dragon instinctively rubbed against Shu Tiantian’s palm.

Although the mottled dragon blood on the broken horn made it look like some terrifying weapon, and the rough texture sliding across her palm was not soft, the force was very light, very careful—like it knew it was a blood-stained weapon, and thus approached her so cautiously.

Only when Shu Tiantian lowered her head did she realize that, despite the blood stains covering the broken horn, not a single bit had smeared onto her palm.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Having escaped death and with a giant dragon beside her, Shu Tiantian should not have been able to sleep. But the extreme cold brought by her Heavenly Yin constitution had at some unknown time been dispelled, and her body sank into overwhelming exhaustion. Shu Tiantian ended up hugging the dragon’s horn and sleeping through the night.

It wasn’t that Shu Tiantian had some grand ambition or dared to treat a giant dragon like a cat to pet. On the contrary, she was very timid. Because her combat ability was extremely low, she spent most of her time lying low.

If she hadn’t thought the dragon was dead before, she would have run off overnight with her bundle. Now that the dragon was alive, with Shu Tiantian’s courage, how could she dare reach out to pet a dragon?

But last night, several times Shu Tiantian tried to carefully climb up, yet whenever she pushed the dragon’s horn, the damaged horn would instinctively nuzzle her.

Shu Tiantian’s willpower was already extremely weak. Being nuzzled left her dizzy and muddle-headed, her mind full of “the dragon is so cute, I love it so much,” and the dragon was extremely heavy—she could hardly stand up anyway, so she had no choice but to give up.

She tried to examine the dragon’s injuries and found them even more severe than she had imagined.

The baleful energy that attacked the dragon last night—even the worst case of baleful energy invading the body that Shu Tiantian, as a medical cultivator, had ever seen was not even one ten-millionth of it. Not to mention that this baleful energy had countless threads, the terrifying yin baleful energy seeping in through every possible gap. Even the dragon’s hard scales could not block it—after all, baleful energy did not even have a physical form. Who could resist the invasion of air?

When Shu Tiantian placed her hand on the damaged horn and carefully touched it, she could almost hear the sound of the dragon’s life force being devoured within its body. She could even sense the cracking sounds of bones and meridians throughout its body shattering and healing again.

Such immense pain—within Shu Tiantian’s understanding, even a cultivator as powerful as her master would probably be driven to death by agony.

Yet this dragon did not struggle, did not howl in pain. Shu Tiantian dared not move, because as a medical cultivator, she understood very clearly that even the slightest shift would cause excruciating pain throughout the dragon’s entire body.

So Shu Tiantian quietly hugged the damaged horn and slept the entire night, occasionally soothingly channeling a bit of life force into the horn.

However, when she woke again, hugging the horn, she fell into deep hesitation.

Shu Tiantian was not the type to stand by and watch someone die—let alone that she quite liked this dragon.

But this dragon had an extraordinary origin. Whether it was the mighty being who had nailed it down, or its master Ji Wushu, both were existences that could crush Shu Tiantian to death with a flick of a finger. Even that terrifying yin baleful energy from yesterday—if Shu Tiantian herself had not possessed the Heavenly Yin constitution, she wouldn’t have been able to withstand even that small portion of baleful energy.

Moreover, Shu Tiantian knew very clearly that the yin baleful energy could not have gathered without reason. Clearly, someone wanted to deal with Ji Wushu, and so they struck at his dragon.

She could save Xiao Hei at any cost, but she did not dare save the giant dragon before her. Grandfather had said that one should heal the world with a hanging gourd, but one must also take care of oneself. She was timid, cherished her life, and feared pain.

Reason told Shu Tiantian that she could not meddle in this matter.

The giant dragon had been thrown here like a corpse for perhaps hundreds or thousands of years. Even the spirit herbs growing over its wounds were hundreds of years old. Even its master Ji Wushu no longer wanted it. She was merely a small medical cultivator at the Foundation Establishment stage, barely able to protect herself. Such an enormous matter—she could neither interfere nor manage it.

So Shu Tiantian stared at the damaged dragon horn for a long time. Watching the golden-red blood seeping from the surface of the horn, she slowly moved the dragon’s horn aside. This time, the giant dragon showed no reaction at all. Shu Tiantian knew that this was due to nerve numbness brought on by immense pain—a sign of a very bad condition.

She picked up the small medicine chest scattered on the ground and packed everything away one by one.

Yet while she packed, the sensation of the dragon horn’s touch still lingered in her palm, making her shrink her hand slightly, and she looked once more toward the giant dragon.

In the end, she walked over, gathered all the spiritual energy in her body, pressed it against the dragon’s scales, and circulated Withered Wood Meets Spring. A surging vitality poured in, yet it was like mud flowing into the sea, unable to stir even the slightest ripple.

By the time Shu Tiantian had exhausted every bit of her spiritual energy, the giant dragon still did not move. It had almost been reduced to an empty shell, but even that shell was riddled with holes.

Leaving aside the horrifying external wounds and the severed meridians, the core problem inside its body was the same as that of the Scarlet Flame Flower—its vitality was being gradually devoured.

She lowered her head, knowing that Withered Wood Meets Spring was still weak now. Even if she wanted to save it, it likely would not be of much use.

After hesitating for a moment, she reached out and gently touched the scarred dragon horn, pressed her pale lips together, and turned away.

She turned and walked toward the distance, never looking back.

And so she did not see that behind her, the giant dragon transformed into a youth as handsome as a divine being.

His heavy eyes looked at her retreating figure, yet he did nothing.

He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and revealed a cold, deeply mocking smile.

He remembered the warm light from when he lost consciousness. The Dragon God had not bowed his head to any human for thousands of years, yet when he was consumed by killing intent and nearly lost himself, because of that trace of warmth, because of instinct, he had done things that now seemed unbelievable when he was clear-headed.

But that small warmth could soothe agitation and ease pain. She had not even feared the savage dragon horn, the terrifying dragon form. And so, when he regained consciousness, as if driven by ghosts, maliciously, he had not let her leave.

She probably did not know what kind of sinister probing lay behind those gentle nuzzles.

Would she scream? Would she be afraid?

Yet she had used her soft body to hold that dreadful, broken dragon horn.

His horn had killed people, had been stained with blood. Ancient records described it as one of the rare divine weapons between heaven and earth. If a dragon’s horn were cut off, it could be forged into a blade capable of cleaving all things. Thus, countless people had tried to sever that dragon horn years ago. That broken horn had met blades, spears, axes, chisels; had endured wind, fire, frost, and lightning; had accumulated baleful energy for a thousand years—yet it had never been embraced.

He found it unfamiliar and hesitated, yet thought it was not bad.

Though the power of the Nine Yin Profound Baleful Energy Formation still remained, he idly thought that perhaps tonight would not be so hard to endure.

Yet just as had happened countless times before, she merely stayed a little longer than others, and then, just the same, chose to leave.

He should have stripped her soul and left her with only a life barely clinging to the world—but suddenly he felt utterly bored, all interest gone.

When the long-haired youth stood up, his figure swayed. In the end, he braced himself with the Dragon Bone Sword. Blood dripped down, drop by drop. He walked very slowly, yet never once looked back.