Chapter 314

At least, we mother and son have reunited…… This is how humble and helpless a compromise with fate is!

A young dragon that has just survived its hundred-year Heavenly Tribulation, within the vast Linghai Dragon Clan, is no different from a toddler just learning to walk.

The child is still young, but the mother's life is about to end—what could Liu Junyan do then?

All he could seem to do was stay by his mother's side, accompanying her toward death.

He hoped that moment would be the end.

Perhaps some people find it hard to understand why Liu Junyan wouldn't give everything for his mother, just once.

Even if it were the last time!

But I can empathize with his state of mind then; I think, if it were me, I would make the same choice.

He left his mother at ten, and when they met again at a hundred, everything had changed.

Ninety years of separation—for ordinary people, that's a lifetime!

Throughout those long years, he must have imagined countless times the scene of their mother-son reunion.

But none of those imaginations ever felt as hopeless as the present moment.

Compared to meaningless struggle, what Liu Junyan cherished more was the present reunion.

At least in that moment, he was reluctant to give up this tranquility.

But the world's suffering does not cease just because someone compromises.

It forces you to contend and fight!

To protect those you wish to protect, give it your all!

"I'm so foolish—until Xiāo gē started fighting with my eldest maternal uncle at the door, I still couldn't help Mother tie her hair properly; she patted my hand and said, 'Āyàn, go play with your brother; Mother needs to speak with your eldest maternal uncle.'"

"The palace gates were pushed open, and I saw Xiāo gē being seized by my second and third maternal uncles, dragged away forcefully; he cursed and kicked his legs, but could not break free, his unruly figure fading into the distance until it was completely blocked by the figure at the gate."

"I went over, knelt before my eldest maternal uncle, begging him to release Mother and let me take her away; I thought, even if I brought her back to the Snake Clan of Wangting Mountain, it would be better than staying here."

"But my eldest maternal uncle said to me, 'Āyàn, this is the destiny your mother was born to bear; it will also be your mission—this is fate, unavoidable by human strength.'"

My tears had already burst their banks; I didn't know what words could soothe the deepest wound in Liu Junyan's heart, so I could only hold him tighter, lean against his chest, and listen to his confession.

I stood up.

I placed the ancient bronze sword horizontally before me, blade pointing at my great-uncle.

I set my jaw, pointed at him firmly, and said, "Great-uncle, today either you let my mother go, or you step over my corpse!"

Great-uncle said nothing, but my mother, behind me, rebuked me; when she grew agitated she began to cough blood, shaking the black-iron chains that bound her with a clatter, and in the midst of her violent coughing I thrust my first sword at great-uncle.

I had diligently trained for ninety years, and everyone on Wangting Mountain's serpent clan praised my extraordinary talent, yet when I thrust that sword with all my might, great-uncle didn't move a muscle; his powerful true qi shielded him and violently flung me away, I fell with sword in hand before my mother's bed, a sharp pain in my chest, and I spat a mouthful of fresh blood.

I struggled to my feet, seized the ancient bronze sword, and charged again… third time, fourth time… fifth time… I rushed forward again and again, each time being blown back by his true qi; great-uncle didn't budge, while I became covered in wounds, vomiting blood nonstop, my innards churning, seeing stars, until I finally collapsed on the ground, unable even to rise.

Great-uncle finally moved; he strode over a few steps, seized my collar and hauled me up from the ground, fixed his gaze on my eyes, and said word by word: "Āyàn, remember: to protect others you must first strengthen yourself; otherwise, before your enemies you will be nothing but a clown on a stage, inviting laughter."

I was knocked unconscious and locked up, yet every piece of news about my mother reached me at once; for my sake she yielded to great-uncle, she was locked inside the Dragon Transformation Cauldron, and those who came described in detail what the cauldron was and how one slowly dies inside it, even binding my hands and feet, blindfolding me, and taking me to a cliff edge in the dead of night.

Standing on the cliff's edge, I could hear the rushing river and, beneath it, the anguished, despairing dragon's roar—my mother's torment… He wanted me to hear, to repent, to plant the seed of hatred in my heart.

Liu Junyan recounted all this in a wooden tone, and I clung to him, weeping uncontrollably.

He held me, gently stroked my head, and comforted me: "Xiao Jiu, don't cry, it's all over."

But how could I hold back my tears?

After a long while, I sobbed and asked him: "Āyàn, do you hate your great-uncle?"

Liu Junyan continued to pat my back slowly and calmly; clearly to me the answer was affirmative, without the slightest hesitation.

But he did not answer me right away; after a while he said: "I once asked Xiāo gē the same question—that was the third year after Zhong Shushu was thrown into the Dragon Transformation Cauldron. He had sneaked into the Linghai Forbidden Ground countless times to see her, then returned to drink with me, and I asked him, 'Cousin, do you hate him?'"

He was great-uncle's first son; his mother was the eldest princess of the West Sea Dragon Palace, who married great-uncle to relieve the urgent crisis of the Linghai Dragon Clan. When Xiāo gē was a hundred years old, she died in battle saving great-uncle, yet only three years later great-uncle took a new wife into the household and bore two sons and two daughters.

I was stunned again; I never expected Xiaoye's background to be so tumultuous as well.

Perhaps because he was the eldest son, or perhaps out of guilt, great-uncle appeared strict toward Xiāo gē but was actually indulgent, publicly declaring that if Xiāo gē wished, he would be the next Dragon King of the Linghai Dragon Palace.

Yet Xiāo gē never gave him face, whether concerning his mother's death and abandonment or the matter of Zhong Shushu, he and great-uncle repeatedly came close to a complete break.

But when I asked him whether he hated great-uncle, he too did not answer me right away.

He hesitated a long time, then said: "As a husband and as a father, his crimes are so numerous that bamboo slips could not record them; in my heart casting him into the eighteenth level of hell would be no excess. Yet as the leader of the Linghai Dragon Clan, he is the most qualified—he can sacrifice everything, including his family, his reputation, even his own life, for the stability of the clan and the welfare of its people; he is a blessing to the populace, and I am merely unfortunate to have been born his eldest son."

As for me, I certainly began with extreme hatred; he imprisoned and coerced my mother, and I can never forget the scenes of first seeing her. When I was locked up and forced to endure those torments, even the last lifeline, Xiāo gē, was forcibly sent away by him.

For two full centuries I never saw my mother or Xiāo gē again; I went from initial frenzy, grief, and hatred to gradually calming, burying that hatred deep in my heart, secretly swearing to cultivate and ascend, to make him pay for everything he has done.

It was from that time onward that he began to seek out renowned and strict teachers for me, who took turns instructing me in cultivation methods and techniques; whenever he had time he came to test my progress and spar with me, and I gave my all each time, until, two hundred years later in one match, I pierced his chest with a single sword.