107 - Divine Mastering Dragon System

Chapter 107 - Golden Sea The female ghost was unmistakably dead, her skin pallid and swollen, her features unrecognizable in death. Her dull eyes, incapable of seeing, darted around nervously out of a habit formed during her lifetime. At nine years old, Lin Pan Di once believed that her elder sister in a bridal gown was the most beautiful person in the world. Despite the heartbreaking sight of the maiden weeping in her vibrant red attire before the vanity, it left an indelible mark on her young sister's heart. Lin Mu's health was frail. After marrying Lin Xiang at fifteen, her first child was Lin Zhao Di, who was five years older than her sister Pan Di. It wasn't that Lin Mu didn't want more children; her body simply did not rest after the first daughter was born, given her poor health and lack of attentive care during pregnancies. Over the years, she had given birth to two babies who passed away shortly after birth and had endured several miscarriages. Even Pan Di was destined to be stillborn, had it not been for He He's soul inhabiting her body; otherwise, there wouldn't be her presence now. After giving birth to Pan Di, Lin Mu repeated this cycle and didn't have a healthy male child until several years later—a fact Lin Mu often referred to as "not just for the sake of food, but for dignity." In the mortal realm, men and women rarely lived past sixty, often considered long-lived. Vitality and vigor faded by the time they reached thirty or forty. Yet in this regard, a man’s youth seemed to last longer than a woman’s. The saying "men blossom at forty" was easy enough to utter when one didn't bear the pain and burden of childbirth. Though He He could barely recall Lin Mu's face, she still remembered the impression—a visage marked by hardship. Men till the fields, yet which rural woman does not? While some farm tasks might be too strenuous for less robust women, planting rice, chopping wood, fetching water, plucking insects, or harvesting grain—what task did they not perform? The common division of men farming and women weaving was perhaps typical, but He He more often witnessed both men and women toiling away together. What was Lin Mu like at fifteen? He He’s imagination continued to conjure the image of Lin Zhao Di silently weeping before a mirror—a woman prematurely aged compared to Lin Xiang, yet so willingly arranging a joyous marriage for her daughter's wedding, as if possessed. The multiple pregnancies, miscarriages, and stillbirths alone were enough to turn a once-budding young girl into a haunted visage by her twenties. Add to that the relentless labor and her husband’s disdain for her faded youth—it was an unbearable burden. When Lin Xiang squandered Zhao Di's dowry at brothels and returned home in shambles, Lin Nai Nai scolded her son but always subtly shifted the blame towards Lin Mu for failing to manage her husband. They only ever taught "to obey one’s husband after marriage," enduring his anger in silence, never teaching how to manage him properly. What must Lin Mu have thought at that moment? Driven to the next room, Pan Di hugged her knees, resting against the wall, listening to the silence. Her mother said nothing. Was she silently resenting and loathing her own failure to hold her husband's heart? Or feeling ashamed for her faded beauty? Young and not particularly bright, Pan Di sat mute. The adults bickered in the next room, and Lin Yuan Tao cried hoarsely from his bed. She should have felt sorrow, but her sadness had long since been distilled into the emotions of Yuan Jiu. Instead, the girl felt only anger, as constant as it had been throughout her nine years. Why did He He, facing the grotesque water ghost, suddenly think of Lin Mu? "Elder sister, you left those clumsily stitched mismatched fabric dolls behind when you married; do you still have them? You who secretly saved silver coins from selling your embroidery to buy sweets for me, and got beaten by father—did they ever return the dowry money to you? You, who loved telling me storybook tales—does your own life not equal those stories, filled with sorrow and trials?" At fifteen, her sister was already a mother. The water ghost clad in a faded bridal gown was seized by He He. Its mouth opened wide to bite, while its other hand clung tightly to the bundle in its arms. The swaddle was lost to the water, leaving only the small, emaciated body of a baby, somehow preserved from dissolution, due to being fused with its mother's hand in death—a semblance of a new organ. The infant girl, likely dead before Lin Zhao Di had thrown herself into the lake, still had a bit of umbilical cord attached, seeming premature. In death, Lin Zhao Di held it tight, merging it with her right forearm as she transformed into a vengeful water spirit. With sustenance drawn from Lin Zhao Di’s form, the dead infant gained a semblance of false life. Despite the mother's death, a tiny heart beat fitfully in the grotesque purple-red mass attached to her. The water ghost screeched harshly, though its prey seemed unaffected, causing a flicker of fear in the specter. With one hand firmly held by He He, it had no escape. Even in death, Lin Zhao Di's ghostly aura was formidable, yet she remained curled up submissively in the water before He He, her head bowed. Lost in mind, there was no reaction to the familiar aura of the young girl before her. She hugged the infant-like mass close, shielding it, even if it meant offering her head and neck in a sacrificial display to the menacing foe. He He released her gently; the specter twisted like a startled fish, retreating rapidly towards the lakebed. But the girl merely raised a finger, and it crashed into an unseen barrier. A bubble appeared, trapping Lin Zhao Di within the bounded sphere, slowly expelling the water. The ghost, paradoxically gasping for air, thrashed like a helpless fish on dry land, unaware of her own demise. After a time, Zhao Di regained her wits and began thrashing against the deceptively fragile bubble like a trapped animal. The bubble, encompassing her completely, seemed fragile yet withstood her every assault, distorting under each hit but never breaking. He He guided the bubble, bringing Zhao Di closer to the lake surface while she herself sank to the depths of the mountain lake. Lightly, she descended to the bottom, her toes barely disturbing the silt, stirring the sediments into a cloud. With a downward pressing gesture, particles in the water sank like rain, clearing the murky lake and revealing the lush aquatic growth beneath. Sensing her presence, the natal core at the lake's center glowed instinctively. Thread-thin golden beams pulsed beneath the mud, progressively shaking free the muddy casing, rising like a submerged sun. Centered on it, the intricate layered arrays He He crafted slowly ascended from the lakebed, their dazzling light radiating upwards. Vigorous dragon energy and pure spiritual power erupted from the compact core, the blaze breaking through the water’s surface as if a divine sign. Dragon energy, inherently a force of righteousness, was lethal to specters. Zhao Di, though blind, instinctively recoiled from the light, curling protectively around the child in her arms. Yet the light dispersed instantly upon meeting the bubble’s translucent barrier, leaving the specter unharmed. The radiance of the spiritual pearl furnace gradually dimmed. At first glance, it appeared bronze-like in hue, though closer inspection revealed a likeness closer to glass or jade, with ethereal patterns. A seamless entity, He He hadn’t carved beasts or auspicious inscriptions upon it. Its surface bore interconnected array engravings, the companion spirit gem intrinsically linked to her, akin to a second inner elixir. Each mark painstakingly etched with a dragon’s resolve. Floating before her natal furnace, He He paused, then slowly extended her hand, gently touching her former essence. Before her mind's eye, the sea of consciousness shifted—the gray sea of her dormant spiritual energy churned. Its appearance had evolved significantly since her unawakened encounter when it seemed like an infinite gray sea. Now, beneath the surface, golden waves swirled, subtly confounding the frost-blue sigil floating above with gray "seawater" masking its true form. However... since she no longer planned to return to Jade Cang Mountain, there was no need to make such a fuss. After all, she had painstakingly suppressed the recovery of her full strength to avoid alerting Xiang Shi Yan, with whom her spirit was intricately linked. The golden sea swirled at her command, yet she hesitated for a moment, causing a gigantic wave, like a golden mountain, to freeze mid-air. Why are you hesitating? The massive wave resembled a beast poised above the gray sea, gazing intently at the blue sigil, all while its master maintained silence. Sensing imminent danger, the spirit belonging to Xiang Shi Yan quivered, emitting a faint blue glow that froze the frothy tip of the wave. In the end, the towering golden wave succumbed, crashing heavily as a breaching whale would, shattering upon the sea’s surface, breaking the icy crust below, silently dispersing the spray and foam. Engulfed by waves like a golden mountain, the ice-blue sigil plunged into the depths, and with it, the black dragon, previously confined by ice, vaulted skyward towards the floating golden mist. A beam of black light shot from He He's brow, penetrating the spiritual pearl furnace. This was the very spot where Xiang Shi Yan had burned her nascent soul to save her, branding a permanent mark on He He. She closed her eyes quietly; such a mark could never be erased—even if she could one day return this part of her spirit, the mark on her brow would persist. She could not deny that there was a fleeting instant she wished this was a brand of ownership; if... if after everything ended, Xiang Shi Yan demanded so, He He would willingly offer her neck or form a true bond, as she had in life. But now it was too late. He He could never return to being the ordinary girl who would coyly lean on her master. The sigil, ensnared in spirit-formed seawater, shivered violently, struggling against its confinement. This strange oppression, enclosed by sea water, faithfully relayed through the connection between the two to Xiang Shi Yan, far away. The cultivator, meditating, suddenly felt as though she could not breathe, clutching at her clothes in a suffocating anguish. This false sense of suffocation gave her a start, as if a terrifying presence at the other end of her spirit was quietly watching her. Xiang Shi Yan slowly loosened her grip, murmuring blankly, "He He...?" Author's Note: He He: I'm done pretending. Anyone want to see the master trapped inside a bubble? 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