Chapter 32: The Professional Dragon Breeder

In the afternoon, Qingzhen found Qinghu and relayed their eldest brother’s instructions, mentioning in passing that he was being hunted by the Dao Court. “Actually, I’ve always wondered—why did our eldest brother see a string of numbers in the side seam of that storage pouch and immediately conclude that the person was a secret soldier?” Qingzhen asked, puzzled.

“I know the answer to that,” piped up Xiaobai.

Both Qinghu and Qingzhen turned their surprised gazes toward her. “Really, not just me—Qingquan knows too. Our great-uncle from the neighboring house once told us: the Dao Court is tyrannical and only allows its own secret army to use numbers alone as identifiers. Other factions raising their own shadow guards or private soldiers must prefix the numbers with the first character of their faction.

“For example, the notorious bandits of the Eastern Wastes, the Ghost Clan, would use ‘Ghost’ followed by a number or alias. The Shen family uses ‘Yinshen’ plus a number. Our own family’s cultivator guards, though supported and paid by our lord, are registered with the Shen family and their waist plaques all read ‘Yinshen’ and a number. Our few are Yinshen Seventeen, Twenty-nine, Sixty-one, Seventy-seven, and Seventy-nine.

“If any faction dared to do as the Dao Court does—using only numbers without a prefix for their secret troops or shadow guards—the Dao Court would dispatch its own secret army to annihilate them. The Dao Court has committed such exterminations at least ten times over the past sixty years. Since then, no human clan has dared challenge their authority by using numbers alone.”

Qingzhen and Qinghu stared wide-eyed. “That’s insane—it’s as if human lives mean nothing to them,” Qingzhen said.

“Seems our great-uncle isn’t useless after all,” Qinghu remarked in astonishment.

Xiaobai rolled her eyes. “He’s actually a decent person. Many of the stories he tells are useful.”

Their fourth young master spent all his time cultivating, and the young miss could hardly stand seeing their great-uncle, always going out of her way to avoid him. Yet, the great-uncle was fond of them, often asking after their wellbeing.

But once, Xiaobai overheard him mumbling to himself: “When will that fourth one die? Shouldn’t he have been killed long ago? And where did this little girl come from? She shouldn’t exist at all.”

That day, she’d felt an unexplainable aversion, and ever since, when he asked about the fourth young master and the young miss, she no longer answered as openly.

“I don’t think the Dao Court is anything good,” Qingzhen said.

“Who knows?” Qinghu replied indifferently.

“They sent people to hunt down our eldest brother,” Qingzhen emphasized.

“The Dao Court is vast—who knows which lunatic went after him? It’s probably not the whole Dao Court. If it were, eldest brother would already be a wanted man.”

“You make a good point,” Qingzhen pondered seriously.

“I just think that if we’re going to strike at the enemy, we shouldn’t waste our efforts in vain. Otherwise, after all our trouble, if the one we kill isn’t even the real enemy, how are we any different from those fools who slaughter indiscriminately?” Qinghu said earnestly. She was still too weak to make a spectacle of herself—caution was best.

“So you don’t agree with eldest brother and Uncle Zhao’s baiting plan?”

“I don’t, but eldest brother wouldn’t listen to me anyway.” Qinghu flipped her small hand and shrugged.

“Of course—you're still too young. Eating, drinking, and having fun should be your main concerns. By the way, let’s go to the lakeshore later and catch some fresh fish for eldest brother. He said not to bring anything too precious, just plenty and filling.”

“Plenty and filling? Black carp, grass carp, common carp, silver carp—which do you prefer?” Qinghu asked.

“Which grows the largest, has the most meat, and can survive longest out of water?” Qingzhen wondered.

“Then it’s the common carp. I know there’s a kind of six-whiskered black carp in the big lake that can live three or four days without water, very lively,” Qinghu replied.

“How do you know that?” Qingzhen asked, surprised.

“The little fishes told me as a novelty. I walk by the lake most afternoons, and they come by out of boredom and share the news,” Qinghu said matter-of-factly. In truth, this was a recent development. The little fish hadn’t had this ability before, but now, even hundreds of meters from the lake shore, they could transmit their thoughts to her. Amazing! Clearly, eating meat had sped up their growth.

Qingzhen looked at her with a complicated expression. “I want to raise a fierce beast too.”

“Sure, how about some birds?” Qinghu suggested.

Qingzhen immediately shook his head. “I don’t like birds. If only I could raise a flood dragon.”

“A wind-type flood dragon?” Qinghu asked.

“Mhm,” Qingzhen replied dreamily. “Just like eldest brother’s water dragon.”

“Eldest brother visualizes a Netherworld Frost Dragon—a true dragon, not a flood dragon,” Qinghu said, exasperated.

“But I heard from Father that there are no true dragons here. Eldest brother’s is probably just a Nether Ice Flood Dragon,” Qingzhen argued.

“Definitely not. Flood dragons have a single horn; eldest brother’s dragon has antlers—a pair, in fact,” Qinghu said, even more exasperated.

“Really? Flood dragons can’t grow antlers?” Qingzhen asked uncertainly.

“I’m a professional dragon keeper—wouldn’t I know?” Qinghu sighed.

Qingzhen burst out laughing. “Dragon keeper? Xiaohu’er, you’re dreaming again. Last time you claimed you were a fish keeper.”

“I am a professional breeder,” Qinghu said, lifting her chin proudly.

Ahahaha.

Qingzhen was utterly amused.

“I’m telling the truth—why won’t you believe me?” Qinghu said, helpless.

Hahaha—Qingzhen laughed even harder.

“So tell me, what have you raised? The little fish fry you put in the big lake—how many are left? Haven’t they all been eaten by the lake creatures?”

Qinghu’s eyes flickered at those words.

If you reversed what he’d said, it actually made sense too.

To keep the lake from being emptied or scaring everything away, Qinghu had even instilled a plan for sustainable development among them—urging them to raise the tastier, rarer species. Back when she raised dragons, the little ones did the same.

When she woke each time, she’d have to clean up her dragons’ messy dens—especially the swarms of overgrown shrimp and fat fish. She remembered what the den was called—it seemed to be the Canglong Realm. Yes, that was the name.