“If we can’t get past today’s hurdle, why worry about dying tomorrow?” Jiang Lijin said matter-of-factly. “Surrender.”
Tianyan couldn’t help but let out a short laugh. He loved this reckless, no-regrets streak of hers.
“Hold on tight.”
He shoved the control stick all the way forward. The ship, trailing its battered tail section, plunged headfirst into the atmosphere of planet Q-990.
The friction generated searing heat that turned the view outside the porthole blazing red. Alarms blared everywhere. The hull shuddered violently, and the internal metal frame groaned under the unbearable strain.
Ten minutes later, that pile of scrap metal crashed onto a barren desert plain in the most gruesome fashion imaginable. The sheer impact carved a deep trench hundreds of meters long, kicking up a blinding cloud of yellow sand.
The cabin door was completely deformed. Tianque kicked it clean off its hinges.
Three people crawled out, covered in dust and grime. Tianque’s combat suit on his left side was soaked through with blood. Tianyan’s face was ghostly pale, blood dripping steadily from his nose.
The wind and sand were fierce. Jiang Lijin dragged both men behind a massive rock that sheltered them from the gale.
“Xiao Yi,” she tapped into her mind to contact the system. “External medicine. Best effect, fastest acting.”
“On it! Coming right up. Using the credit line again.” Xiao Yi was clearly still rattled from the space battle they’d just survived.
Jiang Lijin flipped her wrist, and two oddly shaped medical spray canisters and several rolls of nano-bandages materialized in her palm out of thin air.
Tianyan, using a tissue to staunch his nosebleed, let his eyes drift over those items. Tianque also looked over.
Spatial folding technology existed in the interstellar realm, albeit expensive, but to conceal a space module so flawlessly that even two hardened black-market veterans couldn’t spot it—that was very interesting.
But both of them were masters of discretion. Neither asked a single question.
Jiang Lijin walked over to Tianque first.
The through-and-through wound on his shoulder was deep. Flesh was turned outward, the fabric around the wound stuck to the torn meat. Jiang Lijin pulled out a combat knife and carefully pried open the edges.
Tianque’s muscles had a beautiful definition—not bulky, but smooth contours built for explosive power. Now, that perfect body bore a bloody hole.
She aimed the spray at the wound and pressed the nozzle. The blue medicinal liquid sizzled softly on contact with the injury.
Tianque didn’t make a sound. He didn’t even frown. Those crimson eyes stared straight at her, like a wolf-dog waiting to be petted.
“Tell me if it hurts.” She bandaged him gently.
Tianque watched her lowered eyes, those long eyelashes casting a shadow beneath.
“It doesn’t hurt,” he said, his voice low and hoarse.
Tianyan, leaning against a nearby rock, couldn’t take it anymore. “Bro, playing the wounded puppy is so last season. Boss, I’m about to kick the bucket too. The pain from mental energy exhaustion hurts way worse than a physical injury.”
Jiang Lijin finished tying the last knot and turned to Tianyan. “Release your spirit form. Let me try.”
In theory, for a male 3S-level with drained mental energy, a female’s purifying energy helped, but not by much. However, Jiang Lijin remembered the colossal surge of mental power she’d felt on the battlefield. Maybe she could actually replenish Tianyan’s depleted reserves.
But Tianyan hesitated. He looked away.
Jiang Lijin frowned. What was that about?
She suddenly recalled that on Valoran Star, Tinia’s little golden fox—so arrogant and proud—would tuck its tail and hide whenever Tianyan or Tianque got close.
Even among 3S-level spiritual beings, there was still natural bloodline suppression. If they could scare Tinia that badly, the twins’ spirit forms must be extraordinary.
“What are you hiding?” Jiang Lijin scowled. “I’m not giving you a burial if you die out here.”
Tianyan sighed; his green eyes flickered with reluctant amusement. “Boss, it’s not that I don’t want to show you. I’m afraid it’ll scare you.”
“I wrestled with Baal, that giant python of a serpent. What could possibly scare me?” Jiang Lijin rolled her eyes.
Tianyan glanced at Tianque, who gave him an apathetic “up to you” look.
“Fine.” Tianyan sat up straight. “Step back.”
Jiang Lijin warily took two steps back.
Tianyan closed his eyes.
The air around them twisted abruptly. A tangible, oppressive presence surged forth—the raw, unadulterated pressure of an ancient bloodline, released without any restraint.
The clouds above were torn apart by an invisible force.
A colossal being glided out from the void behind Tianyan’s back.
Its entire body was jet-black, scales gleaming with a cold, metallic luster in the dim light. Deer antlers, a camel’s head, a serpent’s neck, a clam’s belly, fish scales, and eagle claws.
It hovered in midair, its enormous body nearly blotting out the sky above them. Every breath stirred hot air, sending Jiang Lijin’s hair flying wildly. Its massive vertical pupils—a pure, deep green—looked down at her from above.
A dragon.
The oldest, most mysterious creature in Chinese mythology.
Jiang Lijin stood still, craning her neck, utterly speechless.
In her mind, Xiao Yi was completely frozen, hiccupping with bursts of static, before finally forcing out: “H-h-host… t-t-this is…”
The moment she saw that black dragon, two thoughts struck Jiang Lijin: first, that this Blue Star and her old Blue Star must have some connection; and second, that these two had to be Blue Star natives.
Tianyan, seeing her stunned expression, secretly gloated. He knew no female could resist the visual impact of such absolute power. He’d purposely magnified his spirit form to the max just to witness her awe.
Lads… they all had a bit of that damnable need to show off, even at a time of life and death.
“Boss,” Tianyan said, chin propped on one hand, his exhaustion making his smile look strained, “So? Is he way more impressive than Baal’s—“
“Smack!” A crisp sound.
Jiang Lijin snapped out of her daze and slapped Tianyan’s shoulder.
It wasn’t hard, but the insult was profound.
Tianyan’s smile instantly froze on his face.
The black dragon hovering in midair was stunned too. Its magnificent whiskers drooped, twitching miserably.
Tianque let out an exceptionally short, derisive laugh.
“Make him smaller,” Jiang Lijin said with a glare. “He’s this giant lump. How am I supposed to pet him? You want me to get a ladder to comb through your spiritual energy?”
Ah. Their boss was no ordinary female. Tianyan rubbed his shoulder, sighed, gave up, and snapped his fingers.
The sky-obscuring black dragon immediately shriveled into something the size and thickness of an arm—a little “black snake,” with a pair of tiny dragon horns still poking from its head. It wiggled up to Jiang Lijin, fawned against her wrist.
Jiang Lijin grabbed one of its horns and gently probed forward with her mental energy.
A wave of soothing comfort immediately wrapped around Tianyan’s nearly drained spiritual sea. His parched, overstretched nerve endings were nourished, and the acute tearing pain finally began to fade.
Tianyan leaned back against the rock in relief, letting out a contented sigh.
In her head, Xiao Yi was frantically taking screenshots: “Ahhh! It’s a dragon! Host, you made it! You can even pet a dragon!”
Jiang Lijin rubbed the little black dragon’s scales—the texture was surprisingly nice—while lifting her gaze to Tianque. “Yours too?”
Tianque nodded. “White. Prettier than his.”
Jiang Lijin gave a slight nod. One black, one white—twin dragons. No wonder that fox, Tinia, had been so scared.
“Bring them both out next time, let’s have a look,” Jiang Lijin said casually.
Tianyan opened his eyes, green pupils filled with sly amusement. “Boss, twin dragons playing with a pearl—that’s quite an appetite you’ve got.”
[Host, he’s calling you the pearl.]
Jiang Lijin’s hand suddenly tightened, squeezing the little black dragon until it let out a yelp.
