“Brother Huangmu?”
Chu Zao looked at Chao Huangmu standing on the mountaintop over there and spoke subconsciously.
Chao Huangmu stood at the highest point, looking straight over like that. He heard Chu Zao’s voice. He was stunned for a moment.
Who… is that?
Chao Huangmu’s face showed no emotion, but his head felt as if it had been struck hard, and the psionic energy in his wake surged restlessly.
Chu Zao rolled off Desmond’s back and finally let out a sigh of relief.
These past few days, Chu Zao had also been searching for Chao Huangmu, but hadn’t been able to find any news about him.
At least today, he had run into him.
“Brother Huangmu!”
Chu Zao waved at Chao Huangmu standing over there.
Desmond was already fighting with the two dragons without hesitation, but upon hearing Little Chu Zao’s voice, he paused for a moment. On the other side, the two dragons—who were also about to attack—suddenly hovered doubtfully, staring at Little Chu Zao, bewildered—what was going on?
Did this foreigner know this terrifying slaughterer?
Being called over by Chu Zao, Chao Huangmu instinctively took a step forward. It wasn’t until his body rapidly descended from the high place that he snapped back to his senses.
He landed lightly and looked up again.
Chu Zao heard him ask, “Do you know me?”
It was a very unfamiliar, icy tone, actually with a bit of an instinctively feigned polite smile, the final syllable slightly trembling, carrying a trace of confusion.
What?
Seeing Chao Huangmu relax, Little Chu Zao hadn’t paid much attention to his abnormality—until now.
They were only a dozen steps apart now. Compared with before, this was already very close, yet somehow it felt even more distant.
Chu Zao stood up, frowning as he studied Chao Huangmu, only now noticing just how different he was from before.
His psionic force was no longer restrained, but wildly released outward. His expression had lost all gentleness, and he looked indifferent overall.
When those pitch-black eyes looked over, they too were strange, cold, and agitated. His brows were furrowed, and minute dark scales spread from the corners of his eyes to behind his ears—looking like dragon scales.
This truly was not the Chao Huangmu Chu Zao had known.
Amnesia?
A psionic accident?
Or was there something wrong with his current power?
In Chu Zao’s eyes, Chao Huangmu’s already volatile psionic force now seemed voracious, trying to destroy everything around him. He seemed restless under a calm surface, like a ferocious beast that could not be soothed.
But at least, he was not physically harmed.
Chu Zao breathed a sigh of relief.
Chao Huangmu walked two steps closer, his headache growing sharper. That voice, that force, seemed to be trying to control his hand, to reach for the “stranger” in front of him.
The stranger with eyes brighter than any gem he owned.
Who are you?
Chao Huangmu wanted to ask, but his head was splitting, countless scenes flashing before his eyes—those dark, long discarded, and abandoned memories.
After struggling, what came out was an icy remark: “I don’t know you.”
“You probably got your head smashed.”
Chu Zao pondered seriously, genuinely, and nodded.
But it didn’t matter; the Holy Cas Empire had always excelled at psionic healing, and Chao Huangmu wouldn’t have a problem.
Chao Huangmu had wanted to say something, but was suddenly choked back by Chu Zao’s words, his previously cold eyes now showing a trace of his old puppy-like confusion.
Chu Zao wasn’t used to this cold Chao Huangmu either.
They had grown up together. Most of the time, Chao Huangmu had always been like a sunny puppy, enthusiastically trying to show off, often messing up and feeling dejected, waiting for Chu Zao’s comfort, soon returning to his sunny self. Even with such a background growing up in the stars, beside Chu Zao, everyone had always grown up with laughter and noise.
Chu Zao had long since grown accustomed to Chao Huangmu’s presence—close by, making trouble, waiting for comfort, his sunny puppy side emerging whenever he received encouragement or gifts. As he grew, he blended more naturally into the Holy Cas Empire, and even his habitually guarded eyes seemed to have gained warmth.
But now, it all seemed to have disappeared.
“Can you really not remember anything from before? What can you remember? Do you still even recognize me?”
Chu Zao took two steps closer, thinking for a moment before asking.
The boy’s hair was soft and fluffy, his pretty young face smudged with a little dust. He gestured with his hand.
“The first time we met, you wore a ruby waist chain and fell right in front of me…”
Desmond stood behind him, listening to Chu Zao. He didn’t move easily, instead silently observing this guy in front of him.
A… dragon?
But it didn’t really feel like one, somehow even more dangerous—but this little guy knew him.
Were they from the same place?
And what about this first meeting stuff?
A waist chain, and falling?
Desmond couldn’t help glancing at Little Chu Zao.
Chu Zao simply reached out to grab Chao Huangmu’s hand.
But Chao Huangmu suddenly backed off, his psionic force instantly flaring out, forming dense shadows and drawing him back several meters in an instant.
He pressed a hand to his brow. “Don’t come near me, stay away from me.”
The past?
At these words, Chao Huangmu’s eyelids twitched faintly.
Chao Huangmu couldn’t tell if any of this was true, but his head felt like it was exploding, countless scenes pouring in at the mention of “the past”——
The once forgotten memories——
The little boy beaten and kicked, tied hand and foot, tossed aside like a sandbag, blood slowly seeping out, staining his eyes.
He trembled, eyes dazed, as he watched his so-called parents descend into despair and madness. Their race seemed to pay for their power with madness and persecution, a chronically unstable long-lived race falling into terrible infighting. Their numbers were now few and on the verge of extinction.
“Papa… Mama…”
The little cub, like a rag doll, coughed up blood in small mouthfuls, confused and fearful. At that time, those pitch black eyes were not yet numb or cold. The ropes on his wrists and ankles rubbed raw wounds on his tender skin.
His parents, crazed from the start, never gave him any hope—this was a cold, unfeeling race. Most Soul Clan children were driven out when still very young, since they were born with certain powers.
But this little cub hadn’t been expelled. Instead, he became the vessel for his parents’ violent urges. At that time, he couldn’t understand.
He must have been their own child, right?
Why?
Why…?
Staring at his parents’ crazed eyes, he curled up silently. Things only got worse. To suppress his power’s growth, even his flesh was replaced, and his psionic force repeatedly destroyed.
What happened after that?
Even now, Chao Huangmu couldn’t quite recall—but he vaguely remembered the heat of his parents’ blood dropping onto his hand, the murky past, never illuminated.
Oh, that seemed to be his past.
Chao Huangmu thought so.
Such a past… was all pain and darkness.
The headache made Chao Huangmu frown, his heart seething with the urge—destroy everything, destroy the one in front who worsened the pain.
Yes, that’s what he should do.
Why remember such darkness?
But——
But——
Chao Huangmu, hanging in midair, looked at Chu Zao.
Strange.
Clearly a stranger, clearly he should destroy everything, why was he hesitating?
Behind him, the two dragons had almost figured it out—oh, he didn’t recognize them, so these foreigners were just trying to get close, so what was there to talk about?
The two dragons sneered at Chao Huangmu’s hesitation. They might be the lackeys now, but they could turn on him anytime, venting their anger at defeat and collecting all his glittering treasures.
Without hesitation, the two dragons sneak attacked Chao Huangmu from behind.
Desmond had been waiting for Little Chu Zao and Chao Huangmu to talk. Seeing the attack, he didn’t even bother to raise an eyelid—ready to finish it.
But someone moved even faster.
The icy-cold, fierce young man—who had seemed ready to attack just a moment ago—hovered in midair, and his ferocious psionic force surged out in an instant, piercing both dragons’ hearts and tearing them apart.
It was pure instinct.
Chu Zao already stood before Chao Huangmu, the young boy reaching out to grab his wrist, his fluffy curls trembling slightly, drawing Chao Huangmu’s attention and snapping him back to reality.
Chao Huangmu backed away again, surrounded by the bloody stench of the two slain dragons. “Stay away from me.”
He spoke again, staring hard at Chu Zao.
“The past—for me…”
Chao Huangmu was dazed. He felt he should keep his distance to figure out what was going on with himself.
“It’s gray, meaningless.”
Chu Zao stopped.
“What did you just say?”
Chu Zao’s gentle, relieved expression abruptly turned stern.
The wings on his back flapped while he gazed up at Chao Huangmu. The dim light in the sky falling on his face, no glow could outshine him.
Chu Zao didn’t understand—even if he lost his memory, his whole personality shouldn’t suddenly change, right?
His honey-colored, clear eyes deepened, and the young boy’s naturally dignified aura emerged.
“What did I say? I said, the past doesn’t matter to me, it should be forgotten and cut off—”
Chao Huangmu muttered unconsciously in his pain, the urge to attack Chu Zao almost unstoppable, but he forced himself back, just gazing bewildered at Chu Zao.
Then, as Chu Zao stepped right up, Chao Huangmu didn’t dodge this time—only to have Chu Zao ball up his hand and, with a solid punch, knock him on the head.
Little Chu Zao, annoyed, thumped Chao Huangmu’s head.
“What nonsense are you talking about?! Lost memories are lost, just find them again! Cut off from the past? How can you even say that?”
After all, it wasn’t the first time Chao Huangmu had lost his memory.
Before coming to the Holy Cas Empire, he had never remembered anything from before the age of six or seven.
But everything that had happened since, whether school training, planting potatoes, or all the things they’d done together these years, even that forehead kiss he hadn’t had time to ask about—
Chu Zao was truly angry.
The puffed-up young boy set upon the guy who had just coolly dispatched two dragons.
“Brother Yun and Brother Peng would both be sad and angry!”
Desmond scratched his head—oh, so this was how young people got along?
“Hey—”
Chao Huangmu took the punch, head aching and unable to react in time, struck dead-on. But his first thought was—why did the punch’s wind feel a little sweet?
Chao Huangmu suddenly retreated, his expression dropping, and then he saw Chu Zao glaring at him.
Apparently really mad, his already handsome face seemed even more dazzling: “And so would I.”
That talk about cutting off the past—Zao Zao would be sad and angry too.
He was already grown now, the future king of the Holy Cas Empire. He needed to be calm, steady—he needed to thump Chao Huangmu’s head until he remembered!
Chao Huangmu froze for a moment, pressed his brow again, and before Chu Zao could step forward, his own psionic force quickly wrapped him up, instantly shooting off.
Unlike the lazy, slow speed before, this time he was fast, more like escaping in panic.
Chu Zao instinctively reached out, grabbing only a trace of darkness. He blinked, looking at his own hand.
Desmond cracked his knuckles, just about to give chase, but Chu Zao stopped him: “You can’t hit him.”
No matter what, only Zao Zao could beat up Brother Huangmu.
Desmond’s steps halted at once.
Hey—
Desmond looked at the little guy, then at Chao Huangmu already fleeing in the distance, clicking his tongue in confusion. Why did he listen to this little guy so much?
Chu Zao examined the “little tail” of Chao Huangmu’s psionic force he’d grabbed, took off his coronal circlet, and muttered as he fiercely wrapped the unseen darkness around his crown.
Desmond: …
Desmond reached out, looked at the little guy, then slowly withdrew his hand.
His body trembled involuntarily. So strange—
Desmond thought—never mind why he followed the little guy’s “orders”, just that halo thing—is that really something you can just take off? Why did it feel so wrong?
Meanwhile, Chao Huangmu had already dashed to the edge of the dragon territory.
His headache seemed somewhat relieved. After the intense pain, his mind began to clear a bit.
That person said he knew him.
That person dared to thump him on the head.
……
That person’s eyes were really pretty.
Ah, no, that’s not right.
What should he do?
Why did he both find the person’s eyes beautiful, and also want to smother him to death?
Just then, a hapless dragon swaggered by nearby, showing off to weaker beings, and when he passed Chao Huangmu, he roared—Ha, such a pitifully weak dragon, blocking my way? Let me try your arm and see if it’s tasty.
Chao Huangmu, in a volatile, irritable mood, raised his head expressionlessly.
A moment later.
“I know your type, I get it!! I’ve experienced this!! Ahhh, don’t be so rough—”
The dragon beneath Chao Huangmu’s feet whimpered in flattery.
“I often feel this way around my mate—ahhh—”
Mate, M-mate?
Chao Huangmu froze, staring blankly at the dragon underfoot.
The dragon, desperate to survive, spilled everything: “I often find my mate so hateful, but also my type, and every time I want to smother them—”
On every level.
Dragons are a twisted species.
But Chao Huangmu had no idea, and in his pain smoothly arrived at a conclusion.
Is…that so?
A mate?
Chao Huangmu knew many dragons decorated their lairs not just to store treasures, but more to attract mates.
If—that person with beautiful eyes would live in his lair, among his treasures, even brighter than his treasures.
Ah… it should be like that.
Even the wind from that person’s punch was sweet.
Amid his past declarations of never needing a mate, amid the pain that nearly drove him faint, Chao Huangmu thought—heedless of his own safety—
Yes, I need a mate.
Behind Chao Huangmu, a half-transparent blood-colored eye glared irritably at the one he’d chosen, so close to that little guy now, far from the Crown Clan, finally able to take care of Chu Zao.
What on earth was he thinking?
What the hell was in this guy’s head?
After such despair and pain, instead of obeying the urge to destroy, his conclusion was, despite agony, to believe he needed a mate?
A damned mate.
Where he’d once thought he had everything under control, the blood-red eye finally started to fidget uneasily.
He closed this eye, then suddenly opened another eye across the interstellar expanse.
Everything there was reflected in the blood-red eye.
On a battlefield littered with limbs and blood, in the center of ruins, a towering Crown Clan member gazed his way. Scarlet eyes dyed even the whites of his eyes, with a tranquil insanity.
He raised his silver-black sword.
The blood-red eye quickly vanished at that moment.
His field for gathering strength was being squeezed and erased.
His worshipers were being wiped out, his spawns who continued his will were rapidly dying.
His effortless advantage was slowly unraveling.
Damn—
The Crown Clan—that little Crown Clan.
He hadn’t been hunted down by the mad ones, nor betrayed by that crazed Soul Clan youth.
But it didn’t matter; as long as he was inside the dragon realm, he had full control there, and was close to devouring the last of the Crown Clan. Seeds of despair sown, they were starting to collapse, and he would win in the end, swallowing them for power, just as he had elsewhere, including that little Crown Clan.
The eye slowly closed, the blood-red vision twisting and struggling for a moment before all calmed again.
Chu Zao had returned with Desmond to the enclave.
He looked at the pitch-black psionic force wrapped on his crown—different from the Crown Clan’s psionic threads. This one was full of elasticity, like a rubber band, letting Chu Zao pinpoint Chao Huangmu’s direction and distance.
Chu Zao didn’t set out to chase him just yet.
Chao Huangmu looked really off. He needed to prepare a bit and see how he could restore his memory.
Chu Zao dug through the pretty stones in his dimensional clasp.
He sat at the wooden steps in front of the enclave, wearing a stiff little face.
Dan had just tied up and locked Annailin in the house. Coming out, he saw Desmond and Louisa at the door.
Then he glanced over at Little Chu Zao and raised an eyebrow.
“What’s the little guy doing?”
“He’s angry.”
Desmond glanced at Dan.
He leaned against the doorway, speaking lazily.
“Angry?”
“The one with him was found, but seems a bit off.”
Louisa, a gentle long-haired woman with warm orange eyes, looked a little troubled.
“Youngsters that age really aren’t good at being comforted.”
“Huh?” Dan gave them each a look, then withdrew, speaking carelessly, “Why’s he holding that ring that used to be on his head? Can you even take that off?? And—since when is it our job to comfort him?”
Weren’t we supposed to drive him away?
Saying this, Dan couldn’t help glancing over several times.
He looked to Desmond: “Right? Desmond.”
Desmond didn’t answer, simply walking toward Chu Zao.
Dan’s eyes widened. “Eh?”
Chu Zao was angry, also a bit lost about what to do next. Chao Huangmu had suddenly changed, eyes and expression cold as ice.
And he couldn’t find his way back.
The little one was rarely this down, his head full of fluffy curls drooping.
The future king of the Holy Cas Empire was still just a young boy here, just about to undergo his coming-of-age ceremony.
And all he could think about—
Dad would be so worried.
And his uncle and aunt, a few uncles, two grandpas and his great-grandpa…
Little Chu Zao’s cheeks puffed slightly.
Until Desmond sat quietly beside him.
Chu Zao turned to look at Desmond.
Desmond hesitated, then finally reached out—this time dropping all pretense—putting his arm around Chu Zao’s shoulders.
Chu Zao, clutching his golden crown, blinked. The little crown glimmered.
Chu Zao thought—so strange.
At the moment, he didn’t really resist the closeness, even felt a little homesick.
Desmond, for his part, looked at the little guy—he didn’t believe in “empathy”, but when needed, offering a little comfort to the little one was something he could do, after living for who knew how many years, even though they themselves were scarred.
Yet under the faint glow of Little Chu Zao’s coronet, whether it was Annailin locked in the house, Louisa and Dan watching from afar, or Desmond sitting at Chu Zao’s side, all paused slightly, bodies seeming to relax for just a moment, and for a second, it was as if a scene appeared before their eyes—a little cub, much like Chu Zao, very small, being shunned or isolated, treated as a little monster, holding his little injured face and crying quietly.
Their hearts thudded, as if encountering something important—what was that feeling?
Soon that odd feeling was dismissed and Desmond’s brow furrowed deeply.
That flash of a scene knocked him for a loop.
Chu Zao stared blankly at Desmond.
The young boy asked, “Are you okay?”
Desmond’s voice overlapped the little one’s, sounding irritable.
Who lets a kid cry like that— “What kind of parent is that?”
Chu Zao: …?