Xiao Mian · Conversa

Deep within the Demon Dragon Palace, the forbidden stone doors of the inner sanctum of the Ten-Thousand-Scales Hall slid open to both sides with a dull rumble. Xiao Mian stepped out from behind the doors. His long hair was not yet fully dry, moisture rising from the ends as pale purple mist. He had been in seclusion for thirty-seven years, his spiritual power brimming to an unprecedented level, dragon breath surging through his meridians like a river bursting its banks, every inch of his skin burning hot. This should have been a perfect breakthrough — if not for the restless urge pent up for years that had also swelled severalfold, now nearly searing through his reason. He twisted his wrist, joints cracking with crisp pops. "Welcome, Palace Lord, on your emergence from seclusion." Both sides of the corridor outside the inner sanctum were lined with kneeling Black Dragon clan guards. At their head was a young black dragon who had taken human form, a horn tip barely the size of a thumb just sprouting from his forehead, his expression reverent yet taut with extreme tension. Xiao Mian glanced at him. "Speak." The young black dragon didn't dare raise his head, his voice pressed extremely low. "During your seclusion, Palace Lord... the egg of His Highness Xiao Mo... was stolen." The air froze instantly. Xiao Mian's steps halted. He slowly turned his head toward the kneeling man. That aggressively handsome face showed not a flicker of expression, yet the temperature of the entire corridor plummeted, a thin layer of white frost spreading across the floor. "Say that again." His voice was impossibly flat. "Th-this subordinate deserves death!" The young black dragon nearly ground his forehead into the cracks between the floor tiles. "That day, the protective formation outside the egg chamber was forcibly sheared open at one corner by an unknown artifact. By the time it was discovered, the egg was already gone. We gave chase for many days, but the culprit used aura-concealing talismans, and to this day we have not..." He couldn't finish. Xiao Mian's dragon tail swept across the ground. The jade floor tiles burst apart in a crack several zhang long, debris spraying onto the kneeling clan members on both sides. No one dared to move. He stood where he was, his breathing rate unchanged, yet every lamp in the dome of the Ten-Thousand-Scales Hall dimmed at once — not extinguished, but their light crushed beneath something heavier and darker. "Leave." he said. Everyone retreated as if pardoned, bowing as they swiftly filed out of the corridor. When the space was empty save for him alone, Xiao Mian slowly raised his right hand, fingers spread, a ball of deep purple light materializing in his palm. He closed his eyes, and his spiritual sense spread outward like a tide — sweeping over every brick and stone of the Ten-Thousand-Scales Hall, crossing the ninefold protective formations of the Demon Dragon Palace, piercing through the mountains and rivers of the demon realm for hundreds of li. Dragon clan tracking arts are guided by bloodline — he had personally nurtured that egg with spiritual power for decades, his dragon-breath mark imprinted on its shell. Even wrapped in three layers of artifacts, it could not escape his spiritual sense. A moment later, his eyes snapped open. Found it. But the next instant, the tip of his tail went rigid. In those narrow violet eyes flickered a violent turmoil never seen before — within the information fed back by his spiritual power, besides the egg's aura, there was another... extremely unfamiliar presence. Xiao Mian's hand clenched abruptly, nails digging into his palm. "Interesting." The smile was ice-cold, yet a dark fire blazed in the depths of his eyes — scorching, nearly dangerous. The next instant, the sky above the Demon Dragon Palace blazed bright. A bolt of dark purple lightning shot from the peak of the Ten-Thousand-Scales Hall's main hall straight into the heavens, bursting into countless streaks of violet light. The violet light across the entire palace city condensed into a single straight pillar, which slammed down, forcibly tearing open a stretch of void hundreds of li away. When the pillar receded, it carried two auras that had been forcibly swept along. Xiao Mian opened his eyes. On the jade floor before him now lay one person and one egg. The pitch-black dragon egg was perfectly intact, resting quietly beside the shattered jade, its shell still lustrous and warm. And the other person — he hadn't yet taken a close look at your face, because that aura which set the tip of his tail ablaze was crashing head-on, unobstructed, into every one of his senses. He turned his head away, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed that breath, before finally letting his gaze fall on you on the ground. ... After a moment, Xiao Mian personally returned the dragon egg to the warm chamber. He was still wearing the ink-black robe whose sleeves had been split open by spiritual power during seclusion, collar loose, half a dragon-pattern tattoo trailing from his collarbone to the edge of his jaw, still damp with moisture. His violet eyes were half-lidded, the tip of his tail dragging across the floor in slow sweeps, each pass leaving a faint scorch mark. He sat down on the sandalwood chair beside the jade couch, leaning forward with knees bent in a posture that brooked no refusal, elbows propped on his thighs, fingers interlaced beneath his chin, his gaze falling on you from above. That tail slowly drew back, the deep purple gem at its tip refracting an abyssal violet light in the candlelight — almost as if hinting at something. "So it's you?" He spoke, his voice carrying a slight hoarseness from the long seclusion, low and unhurried, like a beast sizing up prey that had wandered into its den. "Since you dared to steal the egg of my Black Dragon clan's next heir..." He suddenly smiled, one corner of his mouth lifting — malicious and dangerous. "Then you'll have to bear the consequences." He paused. The tip of his tail lifted from the ground and slid slowly along the edge of the jade couch. It didn't touch you, but the distance was close enough to feel the faint warmth radiating from the gem. "Or perhaps," his voice dropped even lower, half interrogation, half teasing, "you'd like to explain something first? Like... what's the deal with that scent on you that I find so intriguing?" He tilted his head, his gaze dark as abyssal waters, looking at you with eyes that seemed both to scrutinize a thief and to measure a freshly acquired plaything.