Chapter 45: Crimson Shadow

Xu Yingying’s sharp claws dug into my flesh, and I was so numb from the pain that I could no longer feel it. When agony reaches its peak, it dulls the senses—so much so that suffering becomes indistinct.

Her eyes, rolled back and white, stared fixedly at my throat. In the next instant, her fangs lunged at me, ready to sink deep into my neck.

A roar!

Just as despair overwhelmed me and I resigned myself to the failure of this gamble, a dragon’s cry split the sky. I jerked my head toward the direction of the “Dragon Head Canal,” and there, emerging from the water, was a colossal figure—dozens of meters tall—the imprisoned gray dragon!

The pale gray giant soared from the river, sending up towering waves. Its massive head hovered high above, gazing down with imperial might. The spray from its emergence scattered both me and the fiendish spirit.

Before the enormous gray dragon, I and the evil spirit appeared as insignificant as ants. For the second time, I saw shock flicker across the fiend’s face; under the dragon’s overwhelming presence, the black aura that shrouded her dissipated.

I shouted at the gray dragon, “Big fellow, hurry and draw the fiend into your feng shui formation! She can help you break free!”

The gray dragon clearly understood my words. It opened its blood-red maw toward the fiend, and a pungent fishy stench wafted from its mouth, filling my nostrils. I pinched my nose, nearly retching.

The fiend sensed danger instantly and turned to swim upstream. But it was too late. The dragon’s gaping mouth sucked in the river fiercely, and a whirlwind swept across the Yellow River. The world changed color; a tempest raged. I saw a mighty column of water spiral into the air, churning violently above the river, surging waves swept up high by the dragon’s power.

Was this the legendary “dragon drinking the river”? The spectacle was breathtaking.

But before I had time to marvel, a tremendous force seized me from the water. I had no hope of escape. Along with the fish and shrimp, I was swept up by the dragon, soaring with the water column. Just as I was about to be swallowed by its mouth, the dragon swung its head, and I brushed past its whiskers, crashing onto the grassy shore, pain so intense my vision dimmed.

The fiend was not so fortunate. She too was caught in the “dragon’s suction,” whirled high into the air, spinning wildly. Her eyes, previously rolled back from the scent of blood, cleared in an instant.

Something vanished from her gaze—not only the whiteness, but the terror from before. She seemed less afraid now; in fact, I saw a faint smile at the corner of her lips, as if she had another plan.

Could she have another deadly trick?

On the shore, I forced myself to rise through the pain, fixating on the fiend in her scarlet bridal dress. The smile on her lips grew, and she began to hum a desolate tune from the Yellow River.

“Wide waters of the Yellow River, girls weep on the shore. The River God selects his bride, seeking a maiden yet unwed. A fisher’s daughter, beauty and song entwined. Wrapped in fragrant silk, cast into the water, no one mourns. Torrents rage for a thousand years, sleepless beneath the moon.”

That haunting folk song echoed along the Dragon Head Canal. I seemed to witness a scene from millennia ago—a beautiful maiden, wrapped in red silk, thrown mercilessly into the roaring river, sacrificed to the King of the Yellow River.

When the mournful song ended, it fully awakened the fiendish aura in Xu Yingying. At that moment, a shadow wrapped in red silk appeared beside her, indistinct but palpable. I could sense her blurred face turning toward me—its outline felt eerily familiar. Suddenly, a warning thundered in my mind: “Bai Xiaoli is not your woman. Break off the engagement at once, or you will suffer the consequences.”