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Ruoye left his home in the dragon kingdom to live tales of high adventure and explore the untold wonders of the mortal realm, not to get his head stuck inside a bottle. In his defense, the contents of the bottle smelled too delicious to ignore. 

He had yet to master the spell that allowed dragons to change size but, upon a quick evaluation, he convinced himself that getting in and out would be easy. The bottle’s neck looked wide enough. 

Reality was quick to demolish his hopes, however. 

While he had been right about the thick liquid dwelling in the bottom, sweet and with a peach aftertaste, he had underestimated the thickness of his own neck.

Angry with himself, Ruoye shook and twisted and pushed himself, kicking the side of the bottle with his rear legs. 

It was only his second day in the mortal realm and he had already made a mistake that put him below a common housecat!

Why hadn’t he waited until he learned spells to break things? Experience had taught his elders that dragons as young as him were seldom ready to use such spells wisely. But, unless he could go back and change the past, he had no way to fix his lack of schooling at the moment.

After a while, the little dragon stopped fighting. Frustrated, he let his body hang limp while he tried to think of new ideas. 

Apart from praying to the Heavenly Emperor for help, his mind remained blank for a long time.

Yet, as Ruoye began to think this would be his new life forevermore, something happened.

A large shadow fell on him and a soft voice not devoid of amusement asked, “Well, isn’t this an unusual sight?”

Startled, the dragon made another frenzied attempt to free himself, but only managed to slide a few centimeters more into the bottle. 

What a blunder all of this had been! All of it! Not just coming to the landfill, but also coming to the mortal realm in the first place before he learned more about dragon magic and developed his strength. Now…

Now he was going to die and become the laughingstock of his clan when they found out about his recklessness. 

A pair of human hands picked him up. One grabbed the bottle and the other accommodated around his body, keeping him comfortable.

 “Just make it quick, human,” Ruoye croaked in the dragon tongue. “Don’t make me suffer needlessly.”

“This will only take one second,” the human said in the human tongue, which most dragons understood. “Raise your claws and press your legs against your body on the count of three.” 

Ruoye moved his claws a little and began the regressive count. 

“What do you mean ‘press your legs’?” Ruoye asked, but, regardless, he did at the last second. A good idea, since when the human reached number one, he pulled hard and Ruoye found himself free in the second he had been promised. 

“There you go,” the human said, letting go of him. 

Ruoye’s knee-jerk reaction was to fly to a nearby tree. From there, perched on a branch, he checked himself. Other than his wounded dignity, he was fine. Not a single scale or hair was missing. After thanking the Heavenly Emperor, the little dragon took a long look at his rescuer.

The human looked young. Even a dragon with so little experience with humans as Ruoye could tell. He wore old and worn clothes that nevertheless managed to remain white. A wide-brim straw hat hung on his back and he looked at Ruoye with a kind smile on his face.

“It seems you’re fine, little one. Go back home. You’re far too young to be out here alone.”

Ruoye scoffed. 

How dare a simple mortal have an opinion about what a dragon could or could not do?

The human sighed.

“I mean it for your own good. But it’s fine. We all have to make our mistakes so we can learn from them, and your luck can’t be as bad as mine.” He picked up a half-full bag. Whatever it was in there, clanked as he put it on his shoulder. “Have fun and keep away from narrow bottles, alright?”

He turned around and walked away.

Ruoye’s entire body shivered. 

The nerve of that human. Unbelievable and unacceptable. 

Dragons were magnificent creatures, and their dignity should be respected. Turning one’s back to one like that was, at the very least, rude. Thus, Ruoye decided to follow the human and teach him better. 

He flew behind the human, keeping himself hidden behind piles of scrap. Meanwhile, his disrespectful savior picked up and examined random pieces of trash as he hummed some song or another. The trash he liked, he put in his sack, while the rest, he discarded. What he intended to do with it, Ruoye couldn’t even begin to guess.

The song also made him curious. It was catchy, and the human’s voice was as nice as his smile. No, more than that. It wouldn’t be out of place in the main dragon hall. 

Soon, Ruoye found himself moving his hindquarters to the rhythm of the music. As he did so, Ruoye’s tail found its way to the base of a tall pile of trash, hitting it with force and upsetting its balance. 

The noise alerted the human, who dashed to save Ruoye again. Holding the little dragon against his chest, the trash collector rolled away from the pile, which fell down and dispersed without hurting anyone. 

The human sighed in relief before holding Ruoye from under his front legs to examine him. For the second time that day, Ruoye felt like a cat, but, although annoyed, he didn’t fight the human. 

“Are you hurt?” the human asked.

Ruoye shook his head no. 

The human sighed in relief. Then, a frown appeared on his forehead.

“That’s why I told you to be careful.” 

He stood up, putting Ruoye under his arm, ignoring his cries of protest. 

Fine, humans couldn’t understand dragon tongue, but that didn’t mean he had to keep his complaints to himself, especially when he accompanied them with the corresponding body language.

On the other hand—and he hated to admit this—, the human’s touch wasn’t as unpleasant as he had imagined it to be. Furthermore, when they made eye contact a moment ago, although brief, Ruoye had felt… something.

Deep inside the human’s eyes, a captivating glimmer shone back at Ruoye. Never mind that he had saved Ruoye twice already.

By the time the trash collector reached the edge of the landfill and had placed the dragon on a rock, Ruoye had made his decision.

“Be good,” the human said. “And, really, go back home.”

No. Ruoye would not do that.

When the human turned around to return to the landfill, Ruoye flew toward him and wrapped himself around his neck, over the piece of silk that was already there.

The human sighed again.

“Are you sure?” he asked, poking Ruoye’s nose with his finger. “I’m not good company and my luck is terrible.”

Ruoye scoffed and rested his head on the trash collector’s shoulder.

The human chuckled.

“Alright. As you wish. Just make sure to fly away if we find trouble. My name is Xie Lian. Nice to meet you. The dragon’s tongue is beyond my comprehension, so unless you can write, I won’t know your name.”

Learning how to write the human language was another thing Ruoye hadn’t bothered to do, but it was fine. He settled down again on Xie Lian’s shoulders and got ready to start this new adventure. Maybe he could even discover the mystery behind the human’s eyes. 

Life was never boring next to Xie Lian. He had been right about his luck, and that made it impossible to establish a routine, which was fine by Ruoye. Yes, he had descended to the mortal realm to grow in strength and knowledge—and, if he was lucky, in wisdom—, but also to have fun and escape the dreadful staleness of the dragon kingdom. 

Up there, no one dared to change a thing about their lives and routines after the dragon god disappeared, long before Ruoye was born. It was he Ruoye should be praying to, thanking him for allowing his path to cross with Xie Lian’s instead of the human-shaped Heavenly Emperor. But at least the latter was still there, on his throne, leading the world with his wisdom. 

Ruoye fancied himself a practical dragon who leaned into practical solutions, so praying to a solid figure instead of to a void shaped like his elders’ nostalgic memories, well, the answer was obvious.

Either way, he escaped to leave fruit or shiny things he found along the way at the Heavenly Emperor’s altars whenever he could. When he returned, he found Xie Lian doing something different each time.

So, trash collecting was not the human’s only activity. He also spent a lot of time busking, performing different acts like breaking rocks with his chest, singing, dancing, or playing instruments, and the other humans cheered and tossed him coins. 

Coins! Small copper coins that they had left over. They should have been showering him with gold, jewels, and precious stones instead. Honestly. But Ruoye was just a dragon, what did he know?

(That Xie Lian’s talents were wasted on those uncultured humans and he deserved better. That’s what he knew.)

At first, wanting to stay away from the ruckus, Ruoye observed the actions whilst perched on a nearby tree. But he couldn’t stay away for long. 

One day, as Xie Lian played the flute, a drunk patron approached him.

“Is that all?” he slurred as if he weren’t listening to a performance any noble family would have been honored to host. “Make it funnier!”

Without changing the pleased expression on his face, he began playing a livelier tune. 

However, that was not enough.

“That’s only faster! Not funnier! Make it funny! Funny! ” 

The horrible man punctuated the phrase by throwing a rock at Xie Lian, who dodged it. 

The man laughed.

“That’s better!” 

He threw another rock at Xie Lian. Then another and another, forcing him into a sick dance that nevertheless made everyone join in with the laughter. 

Some unruly children joined in and threw even more rocks. Xie Lian dodged them all, even when it seemed impossible. The whole thing attracted a bigger crowd. When some of the newcomers bent down to pick more rocks from the ground, Ruoye snapped. 

The little dragon dove down from his tree and hissed at the humans, moving from one side to the other, as if daring them to throw the rocks at him instead. 

The moment they saw Ruoye, the humans stared at him with their mouths open, and they lowered their hands. 

“Yes, humans! It is me! A dragon!” Ruoye exclaimed, not caring about them not understanding him. “How long has it been since the last time—?”

He wasn’t able to finish his question. 

Xie Lian grabbed him by the midsection, stuffed him into one of his sleeves and left the area running as fast as he could.

Because of the suddenness and with how dizzy he got from the shaking inside the sleeve, Ruoye could only make sense of what had happened after they stopped next to a creek. 

“Sorry, little one,” Xie Lian said. He took Ruoye out from his sleeve and placed him in the water. “I thought they would start throwing the rocks at you and I had to get us out of there.”

Ruoye swam a little under the creek, which helped him to feel better. Dragons were water creatures, and contact with clean, fresh water worked wonders for them. When it was blessed, it healed their wounds and even brought them from the brink of death. But for a little dizziness, plain water was fine. 

The little dragon raised his head over the surface to look at Xie Lian. 

“They were throwing rocks at you first!” he said in dragon tongue.

Xie Lian’s sheepish smile appeared on his face as he scratched his cheek. 

“Are you scolding me?”

“Yes!” Ruoye exclaimed, spraying water from his mouth to Xie Lian’s face. 

The human placed his hands in front of him, but he couldn’t save himself from all of it. 

“Fine, fine. I’m really sorry.” He sighed. “It seems like we were trying to save each other, weren’t we? I’m not used to that.”

Ruoye left the water and shook to shed the excess before going to settle on Xie Lian’s shoulder. Once there, he rubbed his head against the human’s cheek.

Xie Lian chuckled again, but half of it sounded like sobbing. 

“Is this your way of telling me that I should get used to it?”

Ruoye nodded and Xie Lian scratched his chin in return. 

“Thank you, little one,” said the human. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

After that, he kept silent for a while, pressing Ruoye’s head against his cheek.

The little dragon closed his eyes, relishing in the mutual comfort.

After that, Ruoye started to participate in Xie Lian’s performances. Mostly because he wanted to be able to put the audience in their place as soon as they started to make trouble. His act consisted of passing as a dancing snake, easy to do if he kept his arms pressed against his body. Xie Lian played one instrument or another, Ruoye danced and, together, they gathered even more money than Xie Lian did on his own before.

With more money came better clothes, better food, and more joyous laughter. Ruoye got to discover that buns with sweet filling were as good as hearing Xie Lian laugh. 

They spent more nights camping outside, telling stories in front of a fire. Well, Xie Lian did the telling while Ruoye listened, getting head scratches while he cuddled on the former’s lap. The human knew many stories about dragons, half of which Ruoye hadn’t heard before. The little dragon grew to love falling asleep to those tales and the gentle voice telling them.

Life was good.

Unfortunately, not everything was happiness. From time to time, their public threw rocks, fruit, and other objects at them. When that happened, Ruoye jumped and bit the closest jerk, and the next one, and the next. He normally got to bite two or three of them before Xie Lian got a hold of him. His record was five. 

At first, all of Ruoye’s victims thought they had been poisoned by the snake and they yelled and cried and cursed. But since Ruoye wasn’t a snake and he didn’t have venom, they would be fine. Xie Lian didn’t stop to clear that up before they made their escape, though, and Ruoye felt vindicated—until it happened one time too many.

When they escaped, no one ever caught them. Xie Lian ran faster than any other human they had encountered so far. He was also stronger, as far as Ruoye could tell. If he wanted to, he’d be able to take them down in a fight.

But he didn’t want to defend himself the way Ruoye thought he should.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Xie Lian said once they were alone and out of danger.

Ruoye glared at him. 

“Fighting them is not worth it,” Xie Lian continued. “I’d rather they see me as a coward than hurt any of them.”

With a hiss, Ruoye flew up to the top of a tree. 

For a moment, it looked like Xie Lian would tell him to be done with the tantrum and get back down. But he didn’t. Instead, he sat with his back against that same tree and got a bun from his sleeve. He looked up with a shy smile and raised his hand in invitation. 

However, Ruoye still felt offended, so he curled around himself and hid his head between his coils. He heard Xie Lian sighing in resignation before he ate the bun.

That night, instead of stories, there were long hours of reflection. 

The next morning, Ruoye woke up with a clearer head. Perhaps he had been too harsh on Xie Lian and his tender heart. He was stronger and more skilled than the other humans they met, who were merely rude, he didn’t want to hurt them. Fine, he could respect that. 

And this meant he’d have to be the one to act in defense of his friend, as he had done so far.

Ruoye flew back down and found Xie Lian getting ready to start the journey to the next town.

“Hello,” the human said. 

“Good morning,” Ruoye replied in the dragon tongue.

Hesitating, the little dragon reached for Xie Lian’s arm. 

The human’s eyes widened before he smiled in relief and he lowered his arm. Next, Ruoye took the chance and climbed up to Xie Lian’s shoulder, where he rested the rest of the way. 

Xie Lian didn’t comment on the incident again, and Ruoye pretended he forgot about it. But he hadn’t. He had given his word to himself about how he would act to defend the human forevermore, and he was going to keep it. 

Some time later, on a nice, warm day, Xie Lian followed a road that went through a beautiful forest. Ruoye catnapped inside Xie Lian’s sleeve while the human sang about one of the magnificent god dragons of olden times. The one that had disappeared, as it happened. 

Once upon a time, a small fire spirit, newly formed, got lost in the dragon kingdom. The problem was, dragons and fire spirits had an instinctual enmity against each other. Ruoye had never met one and yet, he knew this to be true. However, the dragon god protected him and showed him his way back to his own land despite his people’s protests. 

Some versions of the song made this one of the reasons why the dragon god had disappeared. Perhaps the king of the fire spirits caught him, perhaps he chose to stay somewhere else. But Xie Lian’s version had a happy ending, with both the dragon god and small fire spirit parting ways at the borders of their kingdoms.

Xie Lian sang it once in a while, never in public, and only at Ruoye’s insistence, like now.  It had a beautiful melody, full of color. His voice was perfect for it, imprinting it with a sweet melancholy that Ruoye found very fitting. 

However, that day, as Xie Lian approached the second stanza, notes coming from a string instrument reached their ears. Ruoye raised his head and Xie Lian slowed down his steps but, after the slightest of hesitations, he kept on singing. 

The music continued and a second male voice joined in. It was deeper than Xie Lian’s and, just like the instrument, complemented the song nicely. Perfectly, one may say. Neither of the new additions overshadowed Xie Lian’s voice. Instead, they elevated it, making it shine brighter and sweeter. 

Xie Lian and Ruoye found the musician not much later. Sitting on top of a big boulder, he held a pipa over his knee. His fingers moved the strings like a blur. When he saw them coming, he stopped playing and jumped down, landing on the ground with grace and on his feet. He had timed his stunt so he and Xie Lian could sing the last note at the same time while looking each other in the eye. 

From his place in Xie Lian’s sleeve, Ruoye took a peek and found a young man taller and younger-looking than Xie Lian. His red robes were too fancy and in very good condition for a wandering bard.  

The young man, proud of himself, grinned and bowed to Xie Lian with the proper deference. 

This didn’t stop Ruoye from judging him, though.

“Thank you, gege, for your gift,” the young man said. “Your voice is beautiful beyond measure.”

Ruoye got to see Xie Lian’s face grow red before he folded his hands to bow back.

“Thank you. So—so is yours. You’re very skilled with your instrument. I don’t remember the last time I heard one so finely tuned.”

When he stood up, Xie Lian folded his arms and placed his hands inside his sleeves, allowing Ruoye to keep looking outside from the gap between them whilst remaining hidden. 

“This old thing?” the musician said, hitting the back of his pipa with his open hand, hard enough it brought an echo out of it. “It’s lucky I can still get some decent notes out of it. Although, to be honest, I should have discarded it a long time ago.”

The pipa shivered when it heard its master’s words. 

It shivered.

Mortal-made instruments didn’t— shiver on their own. 

Curious, Ruoye paid more attention to it and realized that the ornament embedded in the handle, which he had dismissed as an imitation ruby, was in reality a red eye which darted left, right, up, and down.

A cursed instrument, then. The human should really throw it away.

“I think it’s very nice,” Xie Lian said politely, which made the pipa shiver again, although this time out of delight. 

Ruoye rolled his eyes and the musician pouted, hitting the pipa again, harder now. Next, he left it on the ground without further consideration, not caring when it fell on its side. 

“You shouldn’t praise that old thing, gege. It’s beneath you.”

“Is it? And what can I praise that’s not?” Xie Lian asked, amusement in his voice.

The musician smiled the way a fox would.

“I can give you a list. It would be a short one, though.”

Ruoye didn’t get to see Xie Lian shaking his head, but he knew him well enough to know that’s what he did.

“I don’t know about that. I’m Xie Lian, by the way.”

“Please, call me San Lang.”

Ruoye had enough and poked his head out of Xie Lian’s sleeve. Perhaps facing a dragon’s ire would make this clown go away.

“Oh! What’s that?” San Lang asked, hands clasped behind his back and leaning forward to look at Ruoye better.

He wasn’t leaving despite Ruoye’s best glare. Why wasn’t he leaving? Would he have to bite him?

Xie Lian raised his sleeve.

“Ah! This is my little friend. We ran into each other some months ago, and he decided to stick around. He’s nice company.”

“He is? I’m glad you’re not wandering all alone. It can be dangerous.”

There was something in San Lang’s eyes that unsettled the little dragon. He couldn’t pinpoint what, though, just like he couldn’t pinpoint the allure of Xie Lian’s eyes.

Ruoye, then, did the only thing he could do: he hissed at San Lang and went back to hide in the sleeve as far as he could go. 

Outside, the conversation kept on going.

“I don’t think he likes me.”

“Ah. That might be my fault. We don’t really stop to talk with a lot of people. So, what are you doing all the way here? It’s not a very transited area.”

“This is embarrassing and hard to admit, but I got lost. It turns out that I’m worse at telling north from south and east from west than what I thought when I set out to seek my fortune.”

“I see. Do you have any specific destination in mind?”

“As long as it has a roof, a bed, and hot water in the bathtub, I’m all set.”

“No food?”

“I can catch my own food. I’ve been in this forest for a couple of days and managed not to starve, so…”

“Very well. If that’s the case, why don’t you join us? At least until we get to the nearest town. I would feel terrible to leave you here all alone again.”

“Really? Would you grant me such an honor?”

“I’m not sure about honor, but… Either way, it’s going to take us a few days to get there.”

“That’s more than perfect,” San Lang said, now all cheered up. “I need the time to practice.”

“Don’t forget your—”

“Right. Let’s go, you—”

The noise that followed spoke of the pipa being picked up. The bard didn’t seem to treat it with any respect at all.

“Does it have a name?” Xie Lian asked.

“E’Ming.”

“Nice meeting you too, E’Ming.”

Well, at least Xie Lian had picked up that the pipa was cursed. But that didn’t mean that Ruoye could lower his guard.

“Gege, really. Don’t bother with him.”

“But he’s adorable.” He made a pause to giggle before continuing. “Come on. We can go that way.”

“Yes, gege. By the way,” San Lang added after a beat, “about my practicing… would you mind if we do it together? It would make the trip lighter.”

“Of course!” Xie Lian said.

A moment later, they started to walk and he hummed some tunes.

Did the bard really intend to play E’Ming while walking? That sounded ridiculous.

However, before he took a peak, he heard a flute instead of a pipa.

So, this cursed instrument was a shapeshifter. Interesting.

From then on, Ruoye had to endure Xie Lian’s voice mixed with the other human’s and E’Ming’s melody. It pained the little dragon to admit that those two were skilled, which only made things worse. Ruoye spent the next days hating himself for finding the ensemble likable at all.

By that evening, Ruoye already missed having Xie Lian for himself. During their trip and at every stop, he made sure to hiss at San Lang whenever he had the chance. But instead of being humbled by it, the young human seemed amused, which kept the little dragon constantly irritated. 

After a week, they arrived at a town and Ruoye was elated. They’d now get rid of this San Lang who had spent the entirety of the trip hogging Xie Lian’s attention. So, it seemed like Ruoye and Xie Lian would get to relax and be happy again together.

“Look at this dump, gege! It doesn’t seem like the kind of place where they would appreciate either of our talents. Maybe we could find one more suitable.”

“That’s too harsh of a judgment,” Xie Lian muttered. But, as he looked around, he reconsidered. 

Ruoye was about to complain, but then even he realized what San Lang meant. This town and its people gave him the vibe of the kind of audience who threw rotten fruit at them. 

He huffed and puffed in indignation inside Xie Lian’s sleeve realizing that the interloper was right. They should skip this one. 

“What is it, little one?” Xie Lian asked, taking a peek inside the sleeve. 

Ruoye huffed and puffed a little more before leaving the sleeve to curl around Xie Lian’s neck, where he lay his head on Xie Lian’s shoulder and glared at San Lang as best he could. 

The bard glared back, making the little dragon shiver. But he was soon ignored when San Lang turned his attention back to Xie Lian.

“I’ll pay for the food, gege.”

“It’s fine. I still have plenty left from our previous show.”

“Please, let me. You’ve been so good to me, it's the least I can do.”

“Are you sure? I can give you what I have and cover the rest once I’ve sold the scrap I still have.”

Ruoye rolled his eyes. Honestly, if San Lang wanted to pay, let him! It was the least he could do for being an annoyance. Xie Lian should keep the precious little he and Ruoye had earned together with their songs and dances. 

San Lang shook his head and insisted.

“How about this: I pay now and you pay next time?”

The only bad thing about that plan was the implication of a next time. 

Yet, Xie Lian seemed moved by the offer. 

A knot tightened around Ruoye’s stomach and he felt boiling water circulating throughout his body. 

Xie Lian had called Ruoye the first friend he’d had in a long, long time. He told him about how lonely he had been before he saved the little dragon from that bottle, and Ruoye was very proud of that fact. 

But now, this one guy shows up and he has Xie Lian making that face, as if instead of offering him to take care of the food for the trip, he was giving him a palace up in the heavens. 

Ruoye couldn’t stand it anymore and left his cozy spot around Xie Lian’s neck to fly to a rooftop. From there, he watched the pair walk into a store. Xie Lian was laughing in a way that didn’t help Ruoye’s stomachache.

He had to get rid of this annoyance. The sooner, the better.

Grumping, he took flight and went up and down the road while he pondered his problem. Some streets away, he ran into a group of humans who gathered around another one who stood on a box. 

This wasn’t a normal human, though. He was a heavenly official. Ruoye could feel the strength of his spiritual energy. It wasn’t much, which placed him as belonging to the Middle Court. This convinced the little dragon to pay attention to what he was saying. Perhaps it was the answer to his prayers.

“Hear, everyone! The Heavenly Emperor himself is inviting all the bards in the mortal realm to enter a competition of skill and virtue! The winner will have the honor of playing in the Heavenly Court in front of His Majesty! And might even—listen well!— might even be ascended as a god of music if the Heavenly Emperor so chooses!”

The crowd gasped and spoke loudly among themselves. On the other hand, Ruoye’s nostrils flared in excitement. He had just been bestowed a great chance of getting rid of the menace currently pestering Xie Lian. He’d have to leave an offering to the closest Heavenly Emperor temple.

All he had to do was to enroll either Xie Lian or San Lang in the competition. Only one of them, though. He hated to admit it, but either of them could win. Thus, the winner would have to go to the Heavenly Capital and they would be separated.

Honestly, who could resist a chance at godhood?

Yes. It seemed like Ruoye had a plan.

Next, the little dragon dove down toward the man who was handing out the formats for people to sign up. He snatched one up and left, leaving the gasping humans behind him. 

That felt nice, to inspire awe from the masses. When he grew and became an adult, he’d get more of that. But, for now, it was a good start. 

Xie Lian and San Lang were just coming out from the store when Ruoye found them.

“Really, San Lang, that was… too much. It was too much.”

San Lang waved his hand.

“I eat a lot, gege. Thus, buying a lot was necessary. Besides, in the long run, cooking for ourselves is cheaper than going to restaurants and you promised.”

Xie Lian sighed, shook his head, and then smiled.

“Yes, yes. I promised. I’ll cook for you on the way.”

San Lang cheered and pumped his fist up in the air. 

Ruoye was confused. He loved Xie Lian, but he had seen him cook. He had seen other humans’ reactions to Xie Lian’s cooking. Seeing San Lang so cheerfully submitting himself to that was puzzling. On the other hand, during their journey through the forest, he had survived an entire pot of what Xie Lian called soup. 

Whatever. It was not important. The important thing here was Ruoye’s plan.

The little dragon dove down again and tossed the rolled-up piece of parchment at San Lang’s face without any consideration or warning. 

The human caught it with ease using just one hand. 

The nerve.

“What’s that, little one?” Xie Lian asked when the Ruoye coiled around his neck.

Meanwhile, San Lang checked the format.

“Well, this is something,” he murmured.

Xie Lian moved to read it over the bard’s shoulder. 

“That’s…” He turned to San Lang. “Are you…?”

“Interested? Not at all,” the bard replied. 

With his eyes closed and a flick of his wrist, he tossed the piece of parchment away. 

Ruoye hurried to catch it before it touched the ground and unrolled in front of the pair again, shaking it.

Xie Lian chuckled and smiled fondly.

“It seems like Ruoye wants you to participate.”

San Lang pouted and tried to poke Ruoye with a finger. He took that finger away when the little dragon threatened to bite it off. 

“What do you think, gege? Do you think my music is good enough to participate?”

Once more, Xie Lian seemed surprised at being asked his opinion.

“Ah. What do I think? Well, yes. Your music is outstanding. It has both heart and technique, and it makes hearts and souls soar. If you decide to participate, you’ll definitely have a chance.”

San Lang grinned, smug, and grabbed the format.

Ruoye began to congratulate himself again when the damn human ripped it into little pieces.

The little dragon’s jaw would have hit the floor if he hadn’t been floating around.

“San Lang…” Xie Lian said, with that awkward smile on his face again.

“As I said, your approval is all I need, gege.”

Trembling with indignation, Ruoye went back to the man handing out the formats and snatched another one, which he threw at San Lang’s face again. And, again, he caught it with ease and ripped it into pieces just as before.

Ruoye went back for more formats. This time, he came back with a dozen of them held between his claws and his tail. However, as he tossed them to San Lang, he kept on ripping them apart, keeping up with the pace flawlessly. 

“Hey! Hey! Stop that now!” said the man from whom Ruoye had taken the forms. “Few people are enrolling already and now you’re destroying the forms!”

In response to the man, Xie Lian caught the latest piece of parchment Ruoye tossed before San Lang could.

“Is that so?” he said, sighing and offering it back. “I apologize for the inconvenience.”

The man took it and looked at it with a pained expression on his face. 

“It’s alright. It’s not your fault I’m short of my quota by one person.”

“What’s your quota?”

“One person.” His grimace became more pronounced. “People in this area are not confident in their music skills.” He whimpered and seemed on the edge of starting to cry. “I guess I’ll be on stable cleaning duty the whole next month.”

Xie Lian patted the man gently in an attempt to comfort him while San Lang and Ruoye pouted in unison. 

“I just—I just wanted to do better things with my life and get out of the stable,” the man sobbed.

“I’m sorry,” Xie Lian said. “If I could, I would enroll myself. Unfortunately, as things stand—”

The look of pity on Xie Lian’s face made Ruoye’s heart soften. He wished he could help, but it wasn’t his fault that a certain person didn’t want to take part in the contest. No matter how much said certain person stared at him as though it were. 

However, having reached that point, San Lang grabbed the last of the formats, which Ruoye held with the tip of his tail, and pulled it out. 

Ruoye hissed but went back to shut up when he heard San Lang asking for a brush and some ink.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll do it.”

“You will?” said both Xie Lian and the man at the same time, the latter hurrying to get the writing utensils from his bag.

“Of course.” That smug smile of San Lang’s came back. “I just want to see gege smiling again. That’s all.”

“All reasons are good reasons,” the man said. 

Meanwhile, a shade of pink covered Xie Lian’s cheeks. However, this faded away quickly when he moved to see what San Lang was doing. 

“Is that your name?” Xie Lian asked, frowning.

“Yes, gege,” San Lang said, giving the scroll back to the man, who jumped and danced and hurried to file it away.

“The first round of the contest will be in the lord Water Master’s temple two towns away one month from now! Be there and be punctual!” he called as he left.

“We will!” Xie Lian said, waving his hand goodbye. Then, after the man was out of sight and out of hearing distance, he folded his arms into his sleeves and turned to San Lang, all serious. “I believe that, besides practicing music this week, we need to do some calligraphy work as well.”

“Gege…”

“It’s important for a rounded education.”

“…yes, gege.”

Being a dragon who didn’t know how to read and write, Ruoye hadn’t noticed anything about San Lang’s handwriting. However, it filled him with glee to realize that Xie Lian had started to find shortcomings in him. 

“Fine, then,” Xie Lian said. “San Lang, could you find us a room at an inn for the next couple of weeks? I’ll find you there at dusk.”

San Lang’s eyes opened wide.

“Where are you going?”

“To get us money to pay for it.”

San Lang stood in front of Xie Lian, blocking his way. 

“Gege, if we’re going to stay there for my sake so I can practice, it’s only fair that I pay for it.”

“But—”

“I have enough money. Please, believe me.”

Xie Lian stared at him for a moment until Ruoye tapped his cheek to call for his attention, nodding when he got it. 

If San Lang wanted to pay, Let. Him!  

Xie Lian relaxed his shoulders. 

“Alright,” he said, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, he was smiling. “Thank you, San Lang. I’ll find a way to compensate you for all the problems I’m causing you, promise.”

“You’re not causing any problem, gege.”

Of course he wasn’t! Ruoye thought. The only one here causing problems was San Lang.

The bard found a nice inn to stay at. To Ruoye’s dismay, they only got one room. A large one, but still just one. Xie Lian, on the other hand, to further the dragon’s dismay, approved of it because that would reduce costs. 

In the following days, they established a routine. They devoted the most time to music practice. E’Ming transformed into different instruments and San Lang tried different songs, looking for one he would like to play in public. After that, they worked on his calligraphy, as Xie Lian had promised. Or threatened, with the way San Lang reacted. 

Ruoye picked up a brush and a piece of parchment because he might as well take advantage of this and finally learn how to read and write the human language. Neither human commented on it, and thus the lessons began.

To the little dragon’s delight, he made more and faster progress in that area than his classmate. 

It turned out that Xie Lian was a gentle friend but a strict teacher. Furthermore, his handwriting was flawless. Ruoye might not know how to read the characters, but even he could tell when the characters were harmonic. Xie Lian’s strokes were neat and precise, and the little dragon did the best he could to imitate them. 

San Lang, on the other hand, didn’t seem like he was trying at all, which often sent Xie Lian into despair. 

“I guess that’s all for now,” Xie Lian said one afternoon, two days before the competition. “We should set out tomorrow if we want to make it to the Water Master’s temple on time.”

“That sounds about right,” San Lang said, making a show of pouting and rubbing his wrist as if it really hurt after the abysmal work he had done. 

“Are you worried?” Xie Lian said, placing the writing utensils back into their box.

San Lang scratched his cheek.

“Not really. But there’s something else…”

“Yes?” Xie Lian asked when San Lang trailed off. 

“No. It’s nothing, gege.”

Xie Lian went back to the table and sat next to San Lang, staring intently at him.

“Are you sure?”

San Lang was startled by the gesture, after looking back at Xie Lian, he stared down at the table and pouted again.

“If I don’t win, will you think less of me?”

Xie Lian’s face went from an initial expression of surprise to a gentle smile. He pressed a hand on San Lang’s arm.

“I would never think less of you.”

“Never?”

“No, never,” Xie Lian replied with an even softer voice. 

“I—Then, gege, I—”

They held each other’s gaze and Ruoye felt he should do something or his plan would be ruined. So he did. 

Before the calligraphy lesson, San Lang had tossed E’Ming in flute shape under the bed. Now, Ruoye crawled under there and fished him out. Then, without warning to anyone, he blew into it as hard as he could, amplifying the sound with some of his spiritual energy. 

It worked. 

Ruoye and E’Ming’s discordant note, loud enough that the people across the street could surely hear it, startled the other two into separating. 

Yet, the little dragon kept blowing until Xie Lian called him.

“Ruoye. Ruoye, please, come here.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” San Lang said. 

Furious, he grabbed E’Ming only to lock him in a chest which then was, again, shoved under the bed.

Ruoye, on the other hand, flew to Xie Lian’s lap, where he got head scratches.

“Why are you so mischievous?” the human sighed.

“I’m a free soul,” Ruoye responded in the dragon tongue.

San Lang sat down on the bed and looked at Ruoye as if he wanted to eat him alive. Sadly for him, he couldn’t ask Xie Lian to stop spoiling him the way he did with poor E’Ming. 

Ruoye would apologize to the cursed instrument, but later. Now he had to play nice and behave the rest of the night.

The next morning, they set out to the Water Master’s temple. They were in good spirits—or, at least, Ruoye was in good spirits.

San Lang led the march and he furiously whispered things to E’Ming, while the flute shook. 

Xie Lian closed the march, unlike other instances when he walked side by side with the bard, like he wanted to give San Lang and E’Ming space to make up. Besides, though, he looked lost in thought. He wasn’t singing or humming or talking like he used to. 

Having gotten used to hearing his voice whenever they were on the road, Ruoye ended up feeling distressed. Thus, he flew to Xie Lian’s shoulder, croaking gently. A second later, he felt enlightened. He could put into practice something he learned from his classes!

Ruoye crawled down Xie Lian’s arm. When he reached the palm of his hand, he used one of his claws to trace his message. There were so many words he ignored, but the ones he did know very well. Yet, he could only hope it would suffice.

Are you fine?

Xie Lian’s eyes widened in surprise before his whole expression softened. 

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you. Do I look that bad?”

The dragon tilted his head. Xie Lian hadn’t looked that bad, but enough to worry whoever paid attention—like him! Thus, to answer no would allow the human to drop the matter, and to answer yes would probably cause a big reaction. Thus, Ruoye tried to get the information another way: by tracing more words.

The bard will win! We will be happy—

He stopped there because he got confused and forgot how to write without him. His hesitation caused Xie Lian to think that was the whole message and his face grew serious again. 

“Yes. I know he can win.” He looked ahead at where San Lang kept muttering toward E’Ming and smiled with nostalgia. “He deserves to have the chance to play in the Heavenly Court.”

Yes, and the Heavenly Court was far, far away. Exactly as Ruoye wanted. 

Then, why did Xie Lian’s expression make him feel guilty?

It was then that San Lang realized that Xie Lian was keeping his distance. He pocketed the flute and turned around.

“Gege?”

Xie Lian’s smile grew, but it was fake. 

“Have you two made up?”

The bard sighed.

“Kinda.”

Xie Lian hurried to join him.

“Are you nervous?” he asked as he moved.

San Lang shrugged. 

“Not really. As I said, I don’t care about winning.”

Xie Lian chuckled.

“I know, I know. But still.”

“Would you be? If you were in my position.”

“If I were in your position, I’d probably be running to the other side of the country.” 

Xie Lian punctuated the phrase with some awkward laughter.

San Lang grabbed him by the sleeve but, before he could suggest them to do just that, Ruoye unrolled their copy of the admission format and tapped San Lang’s name. That was a contract, right? A contract made with a heavenly official, on top of things. Once signed, the bard couldn’t go back on his word without facing dire consequences.

San Lang made a face and glanced at Xie Lian before answering. 

“I guess I kind of gave my word, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Xie Lian said, to which Ruoye nodded with enthusiasm. 

San Lang turned his head to the little dragon.

“I just wish I knew why you’re so insistent on having me participate.”

Ruoye croaked his answer in the dragon tongue. He could have written it down, but even he knew that wouldn’t be good.

“I want you out of the picture so Xie Lian and I can be happy together again.”

San Lang frowned and his eyes shone in that eerie way they did before. 

The little dragon shivered and hid behind Xie Lian’s head.

“Maybe he just believes in you as much as I do,” Xie Lian offered as he patted Ruoye’s head. 

The latter stopped staring at Ruoye and focused on Xie Lian. His expression softened immediately and he extended his hand to Xie Lian.

“Fine. Shall we continue, gege?”

Xie Lian hesitated but, in the end, he grabbed that hand with his own. 

For a moment, Ruoye thought of sliding between them and preventing their contact, but a quick glance from the bard pinned him in place. By the time the little dragon could react, the humans were several meters ahead of him, holding each other’s hands with their fingers intertwined.

Ryouye didn’t understand what was going on. The further he went with his plan, the worse things were. 

If only there had been a way to convince Xie Lian to ditch the bard back when they first met him! 

Regardless, all he could do now was to follow them and pray things improved once the competition was done. 

As they walked, whenever Ruoye tried to get closer to Xie Lian and curl around his neck or land on his shoulders, as he used to, San Lang kept staring at him.

Glaring.

One would have thought that after the twentieth time, the little dragon would have gotten used to it, but that glare was intense and uncomfortable and it forced him to keep his distance. 

It didn’t help that Xie Lian kept being distracted by something as simple as a squeeze from San Lang’s hand. 

If Ruoye hadn’t been able to stand the bard before, now he wanted to push him out of the picture even more. During their trip, other than glaring at Ruoye, San Lang had leaned toward Xie Lian to sing in his ear or whisper something or another whenever he wasn’t listening to the trash collector’s stories and anecdotes with intense attention. He listened as if those words were the fuel he needed in order to continue living. 

It was disgusting.

Their arrival at the Water Master’s temple changed everything for the better. Not only were the two of them forced to let go of each other’s hands as they introduced themselves, but also there was water blessed by the gods all around the place. 

It had been long since Ruoye had access to it, and he was only so happy to dive in the streams and stand under the tiny waterfalls, replenishing his energy and clearing his mind. 

San Lang got busy speaking with the priests, so Xie Lian came in to sit next to the fountain Ruoye was currently swimming in. He dipped a hand into the water and Ruoye could only wish he’d been washing away the bard’s contact. Either way, the little dragon decided to take advantage of the situation and tossed water at his friend’s face with the tip of his tail.

The drops of water fell right on Xie Lian’s nose, making him laugh as he wiped his face dry with his sleeve. Then, he returned the gesture by flicking some droplets back to Ruoye’s head. 

“Having fun?” he asked.

Ruoye nodded and swam under the water to get closer to the human. When his head emerged next to him, Xie Lian scratched the dragon’s chin.

“Of course you like it,” he said. “This place is pretty much made for you to thrive, even if I’m not sure if this is the Water Master’s first intention.”

Xie Lian sighed and the chin-scratching motions became slower and slower until they stopped. The little dragon opened his eyes and made a noise, inflecting in the same way humans did with their questions. 

“Oh, sorry,” Xie Lian said, resuming the scratches.

However, even though this development pleased Ruoye, it was not what he had meant. He croaked again, repeating the question.

“What do you mean?”

Once again using his claws, in very soft motions, Ruoye traced his question on the skin of Xie Lian’s arms, just as he had done it before.

Actually, it was the same question he had asked before.

Are you fine?

“Am I—? Little one, of course I’m fine.”

Ruoye snorted and croaked again.

That made Xie Lian’s smile grow awkward once again. 

“You don’t believe me?”

Another croak.

Xie Lian sighed.

“It’s just—I’m a little worried about what will happen if San Lang wins the competition. Do you think he’ll leave?”

Ruoye was about to write yes on Xie Lian’s arm when the human continued in a lower, sadder voice.

“Do you think he’ll forget about me?”

That made the little dragon stop. 

To be honest, yes. This was why he had been taking all this trouble. But to hear Xie Lian putting it in words like that, was—it was as if Ruoye was doing a bad thing.

Well, now he was confused. Worst of all, Xie Lian was sad. Trying to find a way to comfort them both, Ruoye came out of the stream, shook himself to get dry, and went inside Xie Lian’s robes, huddling against his warmth. 

Surprised, Xie Lian pressed his hands on top of the bulge on his chest.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You didn’t, Ruoye wrote on Xie Lian’s skin. 

Xie Lian laughed softly.

“Thank you. You know, I’m so glad you decided to learn how to write.”

Me too.

“Gege, I got us a room.”

Ruoye’s head peeked from the inside of Xie Lian’s robes. 

One room again? Why was the bard so shameless?

However, San Lang glowered at him again, which prompted the little dragon to hide. Xie Lian’s hand stroked his head from the other side of the fabric and Ruoye scored a point to himself.

“Thank you, San Lang.”

“They originally didn’t want to because you’re not part of the competition, but I managed to convince them,” San Lang said with that smug voice of his. 

Xie Lian got up and got closer to San Lang.

“Thank you for taking the trouble, but you—”

“Please, don’t say that I didn’t have to, gege. I definitely want you with me as my good luck charm.”

“I’m more of a bad luck charm, to be honest,” Xie Lian murmured while Ruoye seethed. 

“That hasn’t been my experience, you know?”

After that, both he and Xie Lian remained quiet and Ruoye realized he didn’t want to find out what was happening out there. 

Xie Lian took a step backward when an unknown third person cleared his throat behind them. That made Ruoye finally take a look and discover one of the priests asking them to follow him to their temporary new quarters. 

The Water Master was a rich god, and his temples showed it. The buildings destined to house the participants of the competition reeked with elegance to the most minute detail. Elegance and comfort, Ruoye realized as he slid down the fine silk sheets, happy to know that this had been his idea to begin with.

“Gege,” San Lang called, ruining Ruoye’s fun. 

However, the little dragon decided he wouldn’t pay attention to him and would continue to enjoy the bed. 

Xie Lian, on the other hand, approached the bard wearing a soft smile on his face.

“Yes?”

“Here,” he said, presenting Xie Lian with something that sparkled under the light coming from the window. 

“What is it?”

“It’s just some trinket I made. I’d like you to have it. You know, for luck.”

Xie Lian looked puzzled for a second. His hand continued to be extended over San Lang’s, not daring to take whatever object he was being offered. Then, he laughed an awkward laugh.

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around? I should be the one giving you something for luck.”

San Lang shook his head.

“This is how my people do it. Please, take it.”

Xie Lian looked into San Lang’s eyes one more time before he, very delicately, picked up the object that the bard was offering. When he held it to eye level, the thing sparkled again. 

Unable to resist any longer, Ruoye flew to Xie Lian’s shoulder to take a look. There, he discovered that San Lang’s present was a black necklace with red and gold accents, the patterns of which said nothing to him. The materials were also nothing to talk about. Just a piece of wood that would be held around the wearer’s neck by a string of leather. 

It was pretty to look at, though. 

“San Lang… this is…”

The bard’s face immediately went from a cocky smile to a much less confident look. 

“It’s all right, gege. You don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to. There’s always throwing it to the fire.”

As he spoke, he tried to snatch it back, but Xie Lian wouldn’t let him, turning around until he gave him his back. The movement was so sudden that Ruoye, unable to keep his balance on Xie Lian’s shoulder, had to fly up toward the ceiling beams. 

“Gege?”

“San Lang, help me put it on.”

San Lang relaxed once again, his worried face softening into a small, relieved smile.

“Yes, gege.”

Ruoye looked away as he wondered how wise it would be to repeat the stunt with E’Ming. But after the scolding he got from the bard, it was likely that the cursed instrument wouldn’t cooperate with him again. 

The scene finished before Ruoye reached a conclusion. Xie Lian was looking at himself in a mirror while San Lang looked at him. Both of them seemed to have forgotten all about him and, for the first time, the little dragon felt like he was the intruder, not the other way around. 

Ruoye decided to skip it this time and take a nap in the springs. That should help him with all the weird feelings that overwhelmed him. In reality, once in the water, he relaxed so much that he slept through the entire night.

When he jumped out of the water, the sun was high in the sky. The competition was to start at noon, so he hurried to find Xie Lian. 

He found him sitting amid the public, so he hurried to join him. 

“There you are,” Xie Lian said, amused, scratching the top of Ruoye’s head with a finger. “They’re going to start soon.”

I hope it’s fun, Ruoye wrote on Xie Lian’s shoulder.

Xie Lian grinned.

“I hope so too.”

“Well, of course my husband will win,” said a young woman sitting next to them. “Then, we’ll both live in the Heavenly Capital.”

Nobody asked you, Ruoye thought.

Xie Lian smiled politely at her. 

“I see. But even if he doesn’t, I wish you to be happy together for a long time.”

“They will be happy together here in the mortal realm because my daughter is the one who’s going to win,” said someone else.

“No, that’s gonna be my brother.”

“My fiancée!”

“My wife!”

While Xie Lian smiled in innocent bliss throughout this lively exchange, Ruoye rolled his eyes. Humans could be so naive. 

Dragons had all kinds of innate skills that grew in power as they became older. One of the most basic ones was to judge music. If a dragon thought a musician was good, then they were. Objectively. 

Despite his feelings about San Lang the person, Ruoye was confident that he had it in him to win a competition against every other bard in the mortal realm. And this meant that he could. 

To be honest, as far as Ruoye was concerned, the only one who could do better than him was Xie Lian, who could earn his place up in the Heavenly Court just by showing up at the door and starting to sing. But it was better to stick with the plan.

The competition started and everyone around them shut up. Meanwhile, Ruoye leaned against Xie Lian’s head and was rewarded with some gentle patting. 

The mortal musicians came out one by one to present their numbers. Most of them were mediocre. A handful of them made Ruoye want to throw the roof on them to shut them up. Unfortunately, they were allowed to finish their piece and even got some enthusiastic cheering from the humans accompanying them. 

Even fewer participants were worthy to be participating on the stage. They had potential, but it was only that: unrealized potential. Thus, as Ruoye was concerned, better luck next time. 

San Lang was the last one to be called to perform. E’Ming had transformed back into a pipa, so the bard took a seat on a chair in the middle of the room. By then, the audience was already tired, and they were rude, thinking that their bard had been the victorious one, so what need was there to listen to the last one?

Ruoye was about to start the biting routine when San Lang placed his hands and plucked a string. That single sound was so clear and so pure that everyone fell silent. All eyes and ears turned to San Lang. 

As soon as that note vanished, the bard played his song. It was one that Ruoye hadn’t heard before, but it spoke about nostalgia and it spoke about love. Under San Lang’s skillful fingers, E’Ming sang about the pain of things lost and the joy of things recovered. 

Throughout the performance, even though all eyes were set on him, San Lang kept his focus on one person. Ruoye’s position, so close to this person, allowed him to see San Lang’s soft expression, his half-lidded eyes and almost-shy smile. 

Worst yet, he seemed honest. 

The little dragon turned his head slightly to look at Xie Lian. His human friend held the pendant San Lang had given him with one hand. He smiled back at him, and tears shone on the corners of his eyes.

He wasn’t the only one, though. Despite not being the recipients of the melody, the rest of the audience was affected. It was impossible not to be, though. Ruoye himself felt he could almost forgive San Lang for having intruded and disrupted his life.

After this, no one would dare to question who deserved to be the winner.

“Congratulations! Now you can leave us alone!” Ruoye croaked in dragon tongue as he floated inside their room. 

San Lang’s eyes began to narrow, but Xie Lian had come in behind Ruoye and San Lang’s face lightened up. He proceeded to ignore Ruoye, something the little dragon couldn’t say bothered him. 

“San Lang! Oh, San Lang! That was… That was… So beautiful.”

San Lang reached out and covered Xie Lian’s hands with his. Xie Lian didn’t recoil or show any kind of disgust, to Ruoye’s disappointment. It wasn’t a surprise, but the little dragon was still disappointed.

“Gege,” San Lang said. “I’m so glad you liked it.”

“I heard what the priest said. You’re leaving in a couple of hours, right? Have you thought about the pieces you’ll play at the Heavenly Capital? They’ll expect at least one but it's good to have a backup. Don’t make that face. You do have to go. It’ll be good for you and your career. I do have some advice. Listen to me: most of all, don’t antagonize the Heavenly Emperor. It’s bad luck.”

San Lang sighed.

For a moment, Ruoye thought San Lang would start again about how he didn’t care about the heavens or his career, but he seemed to have developed common sense while on the stage. He took a deep, resigned breath, and let go of Xie Lian’s hands only so he could go retrieve a small chest from under the bed.

“I have something for you, gege.”

Xie Lian laughed softly.

“Something besides the pendant you gave me?”

“That was for luck. This is to celebrate.”

“Really, I should be the one giving you things.”

San Lang pretended he didn’t hear that and placed the chest on the bed. 

“Go ahead, gege. Open it.”

Xie Lian did and was left out of breath. 

Curious, Ruoye went to coil himself around the beams of the bed canopy. 

As he did, Xie Lian retrieved from the box an exquisite set of white robes with golden accents. Even Ruoye had to admit it was a beautiful thing and that Xie Lian would look regal in them.

“This is—”

“For you. I was hoping you could dance and sing with me while I play.”

“But…”

“I already cleared the competition. There can’t be rules against it anymore.”

Xie Lian hugged the robes.

“San Lang, I—I’m really grateful that you thought of me. But I can’t go to the Heavenly Capital.”

“Gege…”

“Please, don’t ask. Just accept it. Go and play for the Heavenly Court, and thank the Emperor for the chance and take any reward or boon he gives you. Don’t defy him. It’s a dangerous affair and there should be no need.”

A long silence followed. 

So, San Lang was being sent away. Exactly what Ruoye had been looking for all this time. Yet, after witnessing this scene, the little dragon couldn’t help but feel a little bad, although he didn’t pinpoint exactly why. 

He should be happy, shouldn’t he? He was finally getting rid of the annoyance and life would go back to normal.

“Take the little one with you,” Xie Lian said, interrupting Ruoye’s train of thought.

No, more like throwing a mountain on it, making it crash.

It took Ruoye a long moment to process what Xie Lian meant and who the little one was, even though that was what Xie Lian kept calling him. When he did, his yelp in dragon tongue came out at the same time as San Lang’s protest.

“What? Why?”

“I can’t go, but I want to know what happens, and he can tell me. Since he’s been learning how to write, this would be good practice.”

“I can let you know,” San Lang said.

“Yes, but it’s not the same. I would love to have a third party’s perspective.”

San Lang looked as pained as Ruoye felt. The latter was going to present a stronger protest about how this was the absolute opposite of what he wanted, when Xie Lian turned to him. He looked him right in the eyes, and it wasn’t fair.

Xie Lian’s eyes shone in the same way they did back when Ruoye met him, the mysterious way that convinced the little dragon to glue himself to the human, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to deny him anything.

It seemed like it was the same for San Lang since he also stopped complaining. 

“Take good care of each other,” Xie Lian said when the priest came looking for San Lang. 

Ruoye hugged Xie Lian’s face and nuzzled him. 

“I will tell you every single detail, I promise,” he murmured in dragon tongue while he tried to write the highlights of his message on Xie Lian’s shoulder.

 “Thank you,” Xie Lian said. 

Not much later, a priest came to guide San Lang to the distance shortening array that would take him to the Heavenly Realm. Ruoye floated behind him, doing his best to keep enough distance not to touch San Lang but also close enough to constantly remind the bard of his presence. 

The mortal priest stopped at the entrance of the distance shortening array. He bowed as San Lang and Ruoye passed through it. The first went with his eyes looking ahead, his lips pressed into a tight line. He walked with the pride and arrogance of a king, which made the little dragon feel he needed to compensate for his lack of manners, so he was the one who nodded to the priest.

“What’s the need for being so rude,” the little dragon said as he followed the bard through the portal, not feeling at all embarrassed by trash-talking someone behind their backs when they were unable to understand the dragon tongue.

As expected, San Lang kept moving forward, walking at a brisk pace.

On the other side of the distance shortening array, a heavenly official from the Middle Court waited for them. 

“Welcome—” he began, but San Lang interrupted him.

“Get this through your head,” he said in a cold, commanding voice, not even bothering to look the heavenly official in the eye. “I’m here to play one piece and then I’ll leave. Is that clear?”

The heavenly official was understandably confused. Ruoye too, for that matter. It was as if the soft bard whose music made Xie Lian laugh and cry with joy had been replaced by a demon when they crossed the threshold of the heavens.

“What—” the god began only to be interrupted again.

“What I said. Now show the way. I don’t want to waste time.”

Offended, their host was about to protest, but San Lang turned to glare at him. 

The god shivered and turned around.

“This way,” he forced himself to say.

So, Ruoye had been right and there was something wrong with those eyes.

San Lang scoffed and followed the god to a room the bard could use to get ready for his presentation. It was magnificent, big enough to house even one of Ruoye’s larger relatives. The decorations were elegant and timeless, the carvings, delicate, and all the fabrics, exquisite. A handful of trays on a table next to the large window had all kinds of first-rate food, the kind impossible to find in the mortal realm. 

Ruoye took note of everything while he hurried to call dibs on a rare peach which happened to be his favorite. He floated back up, holding the piece of fruit, which was wider than his torso, against his chest.

“Your turn will be in half an hour. Be ready,” their host said before heading back to the door.

“Oh, you bet I will,” San Lang said while the heavenly official was still within hearing range. “I don’t plan to stay in this pigpen one more second than what I have to.”

Ruoye could feel the tension on the god’s jaw when he left. Nevertheless, their host managed not to rise to the bait and leave with his dignity more or less intact. 

“Rude,” Ruoye chided in dragon tongue. “So, so rude. You should be grateful that you got a chance to earn a position in the heavenly court. Xie Lian is going to be so disappointed to know that, as soon as we set foot in the Heavenly Capital, you became such a little b—”

San Lang grabbed Ruoye by the middle of his torso and brought him closer to him so they could be eye to eye—human nose to dragon muzzle. The movement was so sudden that Ruoye's peach fell from his hands, landed on the floor with a thud, and rolled under the bed.

“Listen, you malformed noodle,” he began. “I’m here only because His Highness asked me to. No other reason. As for you, you’re alive because he likes you. So thank him. Thank him today and thank him every single day of your pathetic existence.” He made a pause for effect before continuing in the same frosty tone. “However, he’s not here now and that’s your own fault. Therefore, if you want to keep on breathing, you will keep your opinions to yourself. Is that clear?”

Terrified, Ruoye nodded and whimpered before being released so he could go hide behind a large slice of watermelon. He had been so disturbed by the incident that it took him a long moment to realize that the bard had threatened him using the dragon tongue.

The little dragon took a peek from behind the watermelon while he considered the situation. 

San Lang was on the other side of the room checking on E’Ming, having him change shape to different instruments, maybe trying to decide on the piece he would play for the Heavenly Emperor. Other than that, he looked—and felt—like a normal human, like the hundreds Ruoye had met in the mortal realm.

Ever since they met him, San Lang had never paid much attention to Ruoye, ignoring him most of the time. However, now that he thought about it, he had grown colder and more distant after Ruoye started insulting him to his face.

The little dragon might just have to start rethinking his entire life and choices. 

Part of him wanted to start questioning San Lang about not telling him about knowing his language earlier, but he was still too scared by his threats. There was also the fact that humans couldn’t normally speak it, never mind with such good pronunciation. 

Which meant that San Lang might not be human. 

But, then, what was he? 

A group of heavenly officials of the Middle Court, none of which was the one who made that brave attempt at welcoming them, appeared at the door.

“The Heavenly Emperor awaits you,” they announced. 

“About time,” San Lang said. E’Ming’s current form was a small flute he carried with one hand. He turned to Ruoye. “Let’s go, noodle. You have to report this, don’t you?”

Ah, he was right. Still, Ruoye kept a healthy distance between him and the bard, attentive to everything and everyone around them as they went by. He memorized all he saw to later tell Xie Lian and to calm down his nerves. Besides, he’d soon be able to see the Heavenly Emperor in person. 

For a second, the little dragon imagined himself thanking the emperor for all the prayers he had seen answered. In response, he would get head pats—the kind Xie Lian gave him, only more godly. 

That would be impossible, of course, but dreaming was nice.

The hall was big and shiny. Not as much as the great halls of the dragons, but it was good enough for the more human-shaped, human-sized gods. It was full of them too. They stood around the hall in several rows, one behind the other. 

There seemed to be two kinds of gods: the ones wearing elegant robes made of fine silk and the ones wearing military armor on top of the robes made of fine silk. All of them wore either crowns or hairpins with either embedded or dangling jewelry. Shiny stuff that was nice to look at. 

Next, one of the heavenly officials who led them there introduced San Lang as the winner of the competition down in the mortal world. A soft buzz rose from the audience. Some of it sounded excited. Others sounded scornful. But most of it sounded patronizing.

San Lang didn’t seem to care. Neither about that nor about where he was. He didn’t even bow as deeply or for as long as he should have in front of the Heavenly Emperor. 

On the other hand, the Heavenly Emperor didn’t seem to pay much mind to the lack of decorum. He raised his hand and the hall fell silent. 

“Welcome to the martial hall, young bard. As promised, if your performance is up to the challenge and we find it pleasing, you’ll receive a reward beyond anything a mortal could dream to aspire.”

San Lang didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at the one who sat on the throne while he offered him unfathomable riches. Checking the tension on E’Ming’s strings—who had changed into a pipa when his master stood in front of the throne—, seemed more interesting. A most ridiculous thing, since cursed instruments never went out of tune. They took pride in always being ready to play, no matter the circumstances.  

More whispers ensued, this time criticizing San Lang’s actions, but the Heavenly Emperor squashed them quickly. 

“You may begin when you’re ready,” he said.

“Mmm,” San Lang offered as an only acknowledgment when he was done pretending to check on his pipa. 

San Lang took a seat on a chair another heavenly official brought and placed E’Ming in position. He let out a sigh that sounded more like a scoff and began plucking the strings. It was melodious, but it wasn’t a song just yet. He was building up anticipation, asking for—no, demanding —the gods’ attention.

He got it. All the gods in the martial hall kept silent and fixed their gazes on the figure sitting at the bottom of the dais. After a moment and a few random notes, San Lang finally began playing his song. A few bars in, however, something amazing happened.

A beautiful voice, a gorgeous, sweet, breathtaking voice, began to sing from the entrance of the hall. Upon hearing it, San Lang’s eyes widened, shining delight chasing away the dullness that had covered them until then. 

San Lang’s music stopped being the protagonist, and, just like the day they met, it became the wings in which Xie Lian’s voice elevated and took over the hall. 

Because yes, that was Xie Lian coming down the corridor formed by the gods standing at either side. Despite wearing a golden mask, he was easy to recognize; his voice was unmistakable. Besides, he wore the expensive robes San Lang had bought for him, which billowed behind him with his every move, since he danced as he approached, and his dancing was as beautiful as his singing.

Although there was no longer a point for Ruoye to describe San Lang’s performance to Xie Lian, the little dragon still committed every single detail to his memory. 

Even though they had so easily captured everyone’s hearts, it soon became obvious that Xie Lian danced and sang only for San Lang, and San Lang played only for Xie Lian.

When they were done, the silence extended beyond the echo left by the last notes of the song. Then, as if a shared impulse had taken hold of them, the gods started to applaud. Even the Heavenly Emperor, very demurely, hit the back of one hand with the tips of the fingers of the other. 

Neither Xie Lian nor San Lang seemed to care. They remained gazing at each other inside of a special bubble where only the two of them existed. 

Xie Lian approached San Lang and extended his hand to help him stand up. E’Ming turned once again into a flute his owner hurriedly placed in his sash before taking the offered hand. They stood there, looking at each other, without letting go in the time it took the Heavenly Emperor to descend from his throne and commend them up close.

Immediately, Xie Lian jumped behind San Lang, who subtly extended a hand to protect him. 

Ruoye decided this would be a good moment to descend and curl around Xie Lian’s neck. He was warmly received, with Xie Lian holding him close with shaking hands while he did the best he could to keep his breathing under control.

“Admirable,” the Heavenly Emperor said. “This has been a touching rendition of a wonderful song. You have pleased us.”

The crowd cheered again. 

“Thank you,” San Lang replied. He bowed again and, again, he didn’t do it in the proper way. 

“As promised,” the Heavenly Emperor continued, “you will receive a great reward later today. Meanwhile, we would like to honor you with an invitation for dinner.”

When San Lang opened his mouth, even Ruoye could tell that he was about to reject the invitation. But Xie Lian squeezed his arm.

“Don’t antagonize him,” he whispered as close to San Lang’s ear as he could.

“Fine,” San Lang ended up saying.

The Heavenly Emperor nodded.

“Go rest now,” he said, gesturing to the side. “You’ve earned it.”

“Thank you,” San Lang said.

The same heavenly officials as before returned to surround them and guide them back to the room from before. On their way there, Xie Lian’s hand found San Lang’s and held onto it tight. 

Ruoye averted his eyes, looking back at the multitude they had left behind. The Heavenly Emperor stared at them from the corner of his eye. It was probably a coincidence, but the little dragon couldn’t help but shudder at that expression of contempt.

San Lang closed the door on the noses of the heavenly officials, ignoring their complaints. Ruoye was sure that he would have suffered the same fate if he hadn’t come in curled around Xie Lian’s neck. 

The bard’s next move was to walk straight toward Xie Lian. As he did, Ruoye felt deep in his bones that he should make himself scarce, so he flew up to the ceiling beams. 

San Lang’s firm and decided hand stopped short from touching Xie Lian’s mask. In his moment of hesitation, he looked into Xie Lian’s eyes between the slits of the mask. 

“Can I, gege?” he asked in a soft voice. 

Xie Lian nodded and guided San Lang’s hand to his cheek—or more like to the mask’s cheek. 

“Gege,” San Lang repeated as he removed the mask and placed it on the table next to them. “Thank you for coming.”

After a second of hesitation of his own, Xie Lian guided San Lang’s hand to his cheek, and he pressed his hand against it. 

“How could I not?” Xie Lian murmured. “Although… Perhaps we should leave this place as soon as we can.”

“Do you mean… that you want to elope with me, gege?”

Xie Lian’s eyes widened in surprise and his jaw fell open slightly. However, he recovered quickly and a small smile appeared on his lips. Then, he gave the slightest of nods.

San Lang smiled back. It was more like a smirk but, at least from Ruoye’s advantage point, it looked sincere. 

He leaned forward.

“Alright. But first…”

He leaned further and Xie Lian began to raise himself on his toes.

Yet, before they could kiss, a dark voice came from the door, which had been forcefully opened while no one was looking.

“I see. So it was you in the end,” the Heavenly Emperor said in an icy tone of voice, addressing Xie Lian. 

He stood by the door, holding the door leaf he opened with one hand, and a sword with the other. He looked at them with so much disgust that Ruoye felt like he needed a thorough bath.

Xie Lian quickly moved to stand between San Lang and the Heavenly Emperor. 

“Leave them alone,” he said. “They haven’t done anything to you.”

Everything about Xie Lian was regal and commanding, and his eyes shone with bright defiance. All his hesitation and nervousness had disappeared—although maybe he had just covered them under a mask of authority. 

Nothing in the Heavenly Emperor’s poise changed. Just as calm as before, he took a step forward. The hand he had on the door moved ahead with his palm pointing downward in an appeasing gesture. 

“Don’t worry,” he said, addressing Xie Lian. “I’m already over you. I’ve come to discuss something else.”

Neither San Lang nor Xie Lian were appeased, though. Actually, San Lang took a step forward and stood in front of Xie Lian, leaning forward in a protective gesture that now wasn’t subtle. 

“We’re leaving now,” he said in a voice as commanding as Xie Lian’s.

“Of course,” the Heavenly Emperor said. “You are not prisoners here. However, by rejecting my invitation after accepting it, you have offended me. How do you plan to make amends?”

“We don’t have to do sh—”

“I want your instrument,” the Heavenly Emperor continued, talking over San Lang as if he had never started speaking. “A cursed instrument of that quality would be a good addition to my collection.” He raised the sword to point at San Lang. “Hand it over.”

“No,” said Xie Lian and San Lang at the same time.

The Heavenly Emperor frowned and his mouth became a thin line. 

“Defying me comes with a heavy price.”

He was getting ready to strike and he was the only one with a weapon. 

Or was he?

Ruoye didn’t know what came over him. He acted on instinct when he dove down from the ceiling to sink his claws into the godly flesh of a certain imperial face. 

“Get out of here!” Ruoye yelled at San Lang in dragon tongue. 

San Lang didn’t waste time arguing and Ruoye hadn’t expected him to. Instead, he grabbed Xie Lian’s hand and dragged him to the corridor.

“Little one!” Xie Lian exclaimed, but San Lang wouldn’t let go of him.

Ruoye didn’t see their escape, since he got busy scratching the Heavenly Emperor’s face. He infused his claws with as much spiritual power as he could while he carved the godly flesh, causing the most damage he could. It wouldn’t be lasting damage, and the little dragon recognized himself as a weakling when compared with the god emperor who ruled the heavens. 

Yet, he had his priorities clear and he knew where his loyalty was.

Fun was over when the Heavenly Emperor grabbed the little dragon by his middle section only to throw him away. Unable to control his fall, Ruoye crashed against the wall. The room around him spun violently for a while. When Ruoye could focus his eyes again, he saw the Heavenly Emperor glaring at him with pure hatred. By then he had healed his face and healed the blood from his robes, making it seem like nothing had happened.

“I’ll deal with you later,” he growled before walking away, in pursuit of the other two.

Ruoye then tried to get back in the air to warn Xie Lian, but he crashed into another wall again, this time an invisible one. 

He pushed with his shoulder. He pushed and pushed and pushed but he got nowhere. 

He was trapped inside a magic circle, a strong one, and he would stay there until the one who had cast it decided to let him go, and he didn’t have time to waste.

He didn’t have time! 

There had to be a solution.

Since he couldn’t break the trap, he tried to push his claws between the shield and the floor in the hope of pushing it up enough for him to squish himself out. 

It didn’t work. No matter how much he tried, how much he scratched, all he got was hurt nails. In the end, it felt like they would shatter for nothing and the idea made him nauseous. 

Ruoye shuddered and turned around just to see if something inspired him.

Then, he saw it. 

While he tried to dig under the magical shield, his tail had scratched the wall behind him. The scratches weren’t deep or anything, but they were there.

Hoping that the dome wouldn’t close on him as he worked, Ruoye tried to break the wall, taking apart the wood planks. 

He managed. He opened a hole big enough for him to go through. It wasn’t a perfect circle and it wasn’t free of splinters, but his scales protected him. 

Once he was out, the next order of business was to find Xie Lian. And San Lang, he guessed. 

Perhaps it would be a safe bet to follow the screams.

He had been right. 

Xie Lian and San Lang had made it to the edge of the heavens. The latter was ready to jump but the former kept watching back at the palace.

Could he be… worried about Ruoye?

Well, in that case, he wouldn’t have to wait anymore. Since no one expected him, the little dragon flew at full speed over the martial gods who were pointing their weapons toward the fugitives. A handful were lying on the ground, unconscious, and some of the ones still standing sported bruises.

Still, none of them looked up and Ruoye managed to get to Xie Lian, slowing down at the last moment so he could press himself against his chest without making him lose his balance. As soon as he did, he got a tight hug. 

“Here you are! I was so worried! You were so brave!”

“Gege, we need to go now. You can praise him later,” San Lang said. 

Despite the rush, Ruoye detected a degree of annoyance in the bard’s voice. Well, it wasn’t the little dragon’s fault San Lang didn’t get hugs. He didn’t know what San Lang had done this time they were separated, but Ruoye had been very brave, as Xie Lian had just said. 

Either way, Xie Lian and San Lang were back to holding hands as they got closer to the edge, now both of them ready to jump. As they did, Ruoye remembered that mortal humans were not able to fly as he did. 

How did they plan to land safely in one piece? 

They couldn’t pretend he’d carry them to carry them both to safety! Maybe if he were bigger… As things were, Ruoye might be willing to make an effort for Xie Lian, but he couldn’t make any promises about making it far, with the spiritual energy he had already spent. 

On the other hand, there was a chance they had discussed an alternative to dying from free fall before he arrived.

Please, be the second, Ruoye prayed… Well, as things were, he couldn’t pray to the Heavenly Emperor anymore, could he? Or to any other of these people here. Thus, he redirected his thoughts to the old dragon god. Yes, he might have been missing for centuries, but at least he hadn’t threatened Ruoye’s friend or thrown Ruoye to a wall.

Finally, they jumped, right before the gods surrounding them could touch them.

Then, they fell and fell and fell… going down as fast as Ruoye had first done when he left his home and set out to explore the mortal world in what felt like another life. 

It seemed like they had done it. They had escaped the influence of the heavens and all that was left was…

“San Lang!” Xie Lian yelled suddenly in anguish.

Ruoye took a peek from the arm where Xie Lian held him with and saw that he had let go of San Lang’s hand. He was still easy to find, though, although his situation was terrible.

The Heavenly Emperor had come down riding a sword and held San Lang by the throat, taking him away from Xie Lian and Ruoye, dragging his back against the rock underneath the Heavenly Capital. 

“San Lang!” Xie Lian repeated, louder and more desperate.

“Gege! Don’t be afraid!” San Lang groaned through his constricted throat. Without missing a beat, he raised his hand and pushed a formidable amount of spiritual energy toward Ruoye. Then, he spoke in the dragon tongue. “Take him away and get him to safety or I’ll have your head, you hear me?”

Of course Ruoye wanted to get Xie Lian to safety, and now that he had temporarily become ten times stronger, he felt like he actually could. 

“You could have done this the entire time?!” Ruoye yelled back.

“Go!” San Lang mouthed, and that was it.

Ruoye had his orders. He was to take his human friend away and now he had the strength to do so. Only to escape, though. Even if he had wanted to turn around to fight, there were too many gods coming against them. He would lose, no matter what. 

Therefore, he did as he had been told. The little dragon crawled to Xie Lian’s back to take hold of his robes. Then, supporting his weight with his tiny claws, he redirected the fall and flew away as fast as he could. 

Xie Lian didn’t make it easy, though. He kept swinging his hands and kicking the air.

“Go back!” he yelled. “ Go back! Don’t be disobedient! We can’t leave them there!”

But Ruoye didn’t go back. He couldn’t. Not as they were now.

The little dragon could only force himself to imagine that the cracking he heard behind them was caused by rocks falling down and not human bones breaking.

Ruoye flew as fast as he could to escape the heavenly capital, and he had to look ahead to avoid obstacles in case the gods decided to throw them any. Thus, he didn’t know what Xie Lian saw, but it couldn’t have been good. Ruoye wanted to tell him not to look back, but Xie Lian didn’t understand him. Although, even if he did, Ruoye wasn’t sure he would have listened either way.

With his heart broken, Ruoye forced himself to ignore Xie Lian’s pleas to go back. Pleas that soon became orders and angry commands. But if San Lang hadn’t come back for him when the Heavenly Emperor trapped him—and Ruoye meant this as a compliment—, then the little dragon had to do his part as well.

For both of them, Xie Lian’s well-being was top priority—whether Xie agreed or not. 

Ruoye found a nice plateau to land on right before he used up the spiritual energy boost he got from San Lang. Most of all, there was a nice, thick forest to cover them, and they would have easy access to several caves they could hide in if necessary. 

He deposited Xie Lian gently on the ground and evaded the hand that got very close to either grab him or smack him. Ruoye wasn’t sure but he didn’t want to find out. He had been expecting it too, with the way he had so aggressively gone against Xie Lian’s wishes. 

“Why?!” Xie Lian yelled. “Why didn’t you go back? Why did you make me leave him?!”

“Because that’s what I had to do,” Ruoye murmured in the dragon tongue. He was floating at a distance with his head hanging down and his shoulders dropped. “Because you’re important to us and we have to take care of you. And because that’s what he asked me to do.”

Xie Lian raised his head and yelled up to the heavens. It was a scream so raw that came from so deep within him that it must have left his throat hurting. Then, he fell on his knees, hugging himself as he cried.

“I can’t understand you. I hate that I can’t understand you. I hate this weak body. But, most of all, I hate myself for thinking it would be fine for him to go there. For telling him to go. For thinking that nothing would happen if I went there. That Jun Wu wouldn’t be so greedy. I was wrong. I was so wrong. I wanted him to shine and all I got— All I got was— San Lang! San Lang, please! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

He folded on himself again, holding himself and with his forehead almost touching the ground, and he cried. His pain was so deep and so obvious that Ruoye felt it in his bones.

It hurt to see him like that, but he couldn’t go back and undo his actions. 

With his head lowered, Ruoye flew slowly toward Xie Lian.

“No. It was my fault,” Ruoye said. “I wanted him to participate in the contest because I wanted to get rid of him. Turns out I’m really efficient, huh.”

One day, he’d be able to put all of that in writing to explain himself, but not now. Right now, he wasn’t strong enough.

As soon as he was within reach, Xie Lian grabbed him. Ruoye tensed up, half expecting the human to exert his revenge on him. 

He had been wrong. Instead of squeezing or hitting him, Xie Lian held him tight against his chest.

“I’m sorry, little one,” Xie Lian said. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You did the best you could, and you were very brave.”

Ruoye curled up against Xie Lian. 

Once more, he was the one getting the hugs and being called brave. However, this time, a heavy weight in his stomach prevented him from enjoying it.

“Oh, no. Look at you. You’re hurt,” Xie Lian murmured after wiping his face with his sleeve. 

He was looking at Ruoye’s back, and only then he realized that yes, he was in pain. The little dragon must have been injured when the Heavenly Emperor threw him against the wall or when he crawled through the hole he made in the wall to escape. 

Xie Lian stood up, still cradling Ruoye, and began to walk.

“I’ve been here before. There’s a spring nearby if I remember correctly. It should help you.”

“What about you?” Ruoye said. “Who’s going to help you?”

Yet, he did realize that caring for him had at least distracted Xie Lian from his grief, so he didn’t press too much. Besides, he was in pain, sore, and tired. If he wanted to be of use, it would help to feel better.

Xie Lian found the spring and, with all the care in the world, he placed Ruoye in the water.

“Here, little one. There used to be a sanctuary here. It’s long gone now, but the spring remains. Rest. You’ll be fine when you come out.”

All right, this might not be the blessed stream in the Water Master’s temple, but…

Normally, water from a spring this high on a mountain was the next best thing to a stream blessed by a human god. Yet, this water was superior. It was… 

It was as if it had been blessed by a dragon god. 

Ruoye had felt something like this only once. 

At the end of the first year of their formal education, as part of the ceremony, young dragons were allowed to swim in a blessed fountain, an experience none of them ever forgot. The water was clear and fresh and pure, and covered them with delight, healing, and spiritual energy.

This felt exactly the same.

Ruoye wondered if Xie Lian knew or if it had been a lucky find. He would ask later, when he was out. At the moment, he submerged in there and relaxed, feeling the water work in all his sore points, including his heart. 

He didn’t notice when he fell asleep, but when he woke up, the sun was up high. He had been under the water for at least one day and one night. His mind was as clear as it had ever been, and he didn’t feel any physical discomfort any longer. However, when he came out from the water, he didn’t find Xie Lian anywhere. 

There was, however, a piece of paper pinned on a tree. The message on it had been written in Xie Lian’s delicate calligraphy.

Dear little dragon,

You will be better without me getting you into trouble. My heart will always cherish the memory of your friendship and your loyalty. I’m sorry that I was unable to reciprocate them as you deserve.

Be happy for the rest of your life.

And that was all. 

Just like that, Ruoye had been discarded and abandoned. 

No. He hadn’t been discarded. This had been Xie Lian’s attempt to protect him. Misguided as it was, Ruoye felt touched. 

He wished he could tell Xie Lian all of this. Or, at least, write it for him. 

Well, he still could. He just had to find him. 

The plateau was huge, and the mortal world was even larger, and Xie Lian could have taken any path and gone anywhere. However, that didn’t worry Ruoye as much as it would have before spending a few hours under blessed water.

The spring had replenished him, giving him as much spiritual power he was going to get without an external boost. He should be able to cast a tracking spell using Xie Lian’s letter as a starting point.

As he worked, the little dragon found himself thankful to his past self for having paid attention to that one class. 

The spell guided Ruoye to a landfill that looked miserable even by landfill standards. But he found the one he was looking for.

Xie Lian sat on the ground, hugging his knees and with his back against a pile of garbage. He wore his usual plain robes and stared at the ground. 

Ruoye approached slowly, doing his best not to scare him. He did surprise him, though.

“Little one! What are you doing here?”

Ruoye set the letter on the ground and he wrote, “Friend,” on the dust next to it. He didn’t feel like he had to elaborate.

Xie Lian looked like he had spent hours crying. Yet, tears showed on the corners of his eyes, which he quickly wiped away. Then, he reached out to pick Ruoye and get him on his lap. 

Ruoye let him do, cuddling first against Xie Lian’s chest and then crawling up to coil around his neck, the way he had done so many times before. Xie Lian allowed it, patting him once he was in place. 

“I still think you’d be better away from me.”

Ruoye scoffed in response and pressed his head against the human’s. 

In response, Xie Lian leaned his head on Ruoye.

“Is this how things are going to be?”

“Yes,” Ruoye wrote with his claw on that shoulder.

Xie Lian sighed and chuckled. After that, they remained in silence for a long time, just hugging each other.

“I miss him,” Xie Lian murmured after a while. He brought out the medallion San Lang had given him from between his robes and held it tight in his hand. “His voice, his smile. The way he played music, and the way he…” He stopped and took a deep breath. “Little one, what did he say to you? I know he told you something in dragon tongue. Even though I’m unable to understand it, I can recognize it.”

“To take you away and keep you safe,” Ruoye wrote on Xie Lian’s shoulder. He would keep San Lang’s threat to himself. It wasn’t a good moment to be petty.  

“I see.” Xie Lian teared up again. “Thank you,” he said again. “For telling me and for keeping your word.”

Ruoye felt tears falling on his scales, but he didn’t move. He didn't try to see Xie Lian’s face. He deserved as much privacy as he could get and the little dragon had imposed himself enough for one day.

And, so, they stay like that the rest of the day and the entire night.

The next morning, Xie Lian stood up and started looking into the trash for scrap he could sell, like he used to do. He moved slowly, mechanically, as if every gesture caused him pain beyond anyone's imagination, and he never hummed a single note. 

Ruoye didn’t blame him. He flew to the side to let him work, although keeping his eyes on him all the time. After a while, since nothing bad seemed to be coming for them and Xie Lian was focused on separating the sellable from the unsellable, Ruoye though he could help. 

The little dragon navigated the piles of trash until he saw one that seemed promising. He landed there—avoiding all bottles—and removed things around with his tiny hands.

Most of what he found there was either too dirty for his taste or too broken to be of anyone’s interest. However, after moving several objects away, he discovered a flute. It was a tiny flute, the kind that would fit in any human’s sash or sleeve, easy to transport—easy to use to disrupt other people’s calm when they least expected them. A prank that would end up in the flute getting punished. 

Ruoye stared at the instrument while a sense of guilt crept all over him. 

E’Ming had been yelled at and confined into a chest because of him, and also he had been kidnapped and taken by the Heavenly Emperor at the cost of his owner, and that had also been his fault. The cursed instrument didn’t deserve that. He hadn’t deserved either of those things. What he deserved, Ruoye decided while looking at Xie Lian’s back, was to be with someone who cared about and looked after him.

While this imagined happy ending sounded great, there was a big problem: E’Ming was now a piece of treasure in the Imperial Palace of the Heavenly Capital. 

Part of Ruoye wanted to go back and rescue him, but he also had to keep Xie Lian safe, and the Heavenly Capital was a dangerous place for him. 

“What have you got there?” Xie Lian asked from behind him.

Ruoye looked up and cursed himself for not hiding the flute in time. But now he could only show it to his friend.

Xie Lian grabbed it, his brow knitting once again into a pained expression as he looked at the flute.

“Ah. True. I had been so caught up with myself and I forgot— Oh, poor E’Ming. He doesn’t deserve to be in the hands of someone like Jun Wu. I have to get him out of there.”

Resolution had come back to Xie Lian’s face, along with a sparkle to his eye. It wasn't a happy sparkle, but it was an improvement over the dullness that had covered them until then. 

“You don't have to come with me if you don't want to, little one. This will be dangerous.”

Ruoye scoffed as offended as he could.

“I am not leaving you alone!” he exclaimed. 

Even if Xie Lian couldn't understand him, he hoped the tone carried the message. 

It did. 

“You are so determined.” 

There was a shadow of a smile on Xie Lian’s face, the first one since they had left the Heavenly Capital. It was as the moon was coming out in the middle of the darkest night, and it meant the world for Ruoye. 

Xie Lian offered his arm and Ruoye climbed on it. 

“Come on, then. Let's go save E'Ming. This is what San Lang would have wanted.”

Xie Lian had a secret way to get into the Heavenly Capital that even the gods didn’t know about. This elevated the number of questions Ruoye had about Xie Lian to… To be honest, he had lost count.

The mortal realm’s side of Xie Lian’s entrance to the Heavens was in a large cave. Not only was the door hidden in the back, whoever wanted to go through it would have to activate it by arranging rocks to that of the correct password. Once again, that was dragon magic. Strong dragon magic. 

Ruoye realized that it was about time he stopped thinking that it was coincidence. Xie Lian had a connection with dragons that went beyond his association with Ruoye. As soon as he could, he would get to the bottom of this.

After crossing the threshold, Xie Lian glided down a dark corridor with elegant steps. 

“Keep quiet, little one,” Xie Lian murmured. “If you notice anything, write it on my shoulder, all right? The plan is to get in, find E’Ming, and get out. Nothing more.”

“I understand,” Ruoye wrote. 

“He’ll be in Jun Wu’s treasure room. I know where it is. He only goes there when he has a new item to add to his collection—or once every ten years to admire it.”

Ruoye decided this once he would be brave and asked.

“How do you know?”

Xie Lian stopped and remained quiet for long enough that Ruoye thought he wasn’t going to answer. However, in the end, he did.

“Once, long ago, he wanted me to be part of his collection. At the beginning, he told me I was beautiful, that he was the only one who could take care of me properly. I believed him. For a while. One day, he offered to show me his treasure room, and that’s when I realized what he wanted me for. I was not going to give up my freedom, and he couldn’t have kept me against my will. I tried to fight, but he was faster. 

“Once he had shackled me, he magnanimously declared I could be as free as I wanted. But he had stripped me from… everything I had. From who I was, and from my people, and he banished me to the mortal world. 

“That’s how I ended up here, I guess,” he continued. He covered his mouth with his hands because he couldn’t help a bout of nervous laughter. A moment later, he continued. “That's how all of us ended up here like this. It’s my fault, more than you know. I—”

Ruoye rubbed his head against his cheek.

“It’s not your fault,” Ruoye wrote on Xie Lian’s shoulder. “And you’re not alone. I’m here.”

Xie Lian took a deep breath and scratched Ruoye’s head. 

“You’re right. You’re here.” He sighed. “We can talk about this later. We have a mission: E’Ming needs us.”

With that, he tightened his fists and resumed his way. It was as if having a mission, as he called it, helped not to spiral into despair. Ruoye wasn't sure if that was an admirable trait or one to worry about. He guessed that he’d figure it out once they were back with the cursed instrument. 

Right now, they had to focus. 

Ruoye felt the moment they crossed to the Heavenly Realm, just when he did the first time, when he joined San Lang. Soon, they reached a sliding door. Xie Lian opened it slightly and took a quick peek. Once satisfied that there was no one around, he opened enough for them to go through. 

Once closed, the door seemed to be a section of the wall, matching perfectly and seamlessly. Xie Lian and Ruoye were now in a dark room, surrounded by barrels that emanated a strong smell of alcohol. A wine cellar, then.

Since the gods had just had a celebration some days before, there probably wouldn’t be anyone here for a few days. 

Good choice, Ruoye thought.

Outside of the cellar, they found a dark corridor whose only light came from torches embedded on the walls. Xie Lian navigated it without hesitation. Whenever they ran into a guard, he pressed himself against the wall or jumped to hold himself against the ceiling with as much help as Ruoye could give him. 

Some minutes later, they reached the treasure room. As Xie Lian had predicted, the Heavenly Emperor wasn’t there. 

Xie Lian stared at the door. Ruoye understood why immediately: the lock was magic. Complex and formidable. Impossible to break if one didn’t have the key.

“Little one,” Xie Lian murmured. “Do you still have some spiritual power in you?”

“Yes,” Ruoye wrote. “Plenty.”

“Fine. Do exactly as I tell you. We’re going to break the alarm and the lock. Are you ready?”

Ruoye nodded, and he followed Xie Lian’s instructions to the letter. 

With patience and accuracy, Xie Lian guided him through a complex spell, the kind that his elders would have only taught him a couple of centuries in the future. 

At first, he wasn't sure he could do it, but, then, Ruoye heard when the spell clicked and the door swung open. He was out of breath, but filled with an indescribable sense of achievement.

Xie Lian patted his head.

“Good job, little one. I knew you could do it” 

The Heavenly Emperor’s treasure room was full of crystal vitrines and shelves of all sizes and shapes, which held all kinds of objects in them. Some of those objects were blessed and others were cursed, but all of them exuded spiritual power, dormant or otherwise, and they were rare. Each would be worth a fortune anywhere. 

None of that mattered, though. Ruoye and Xie Lian were there for one reason only, and they found him right away. 

Because of his status as a new arrival, E’Ming, the cursed instrument, was in the foremost, central vitrine, waiting for them. 

Well, he wasn’t waiting for them, but it felt like that. 

“Oh, dear,” Xie Lian said, grinning when he set eyes on E’Ming. “Jun Wu must have thrown a fit.”

“Hehe, yes,” Ruoye wrote.

Inside the case lay a simple whistle. An ugly thing made out of mud, the kind an unskilled toddler would make. It had nothing to do with the elegant pipa he was most of the time. Even his flute form had more dignity than this. 

“Good job, E’Ming. Keep that shape, it’ll be easier to smuggle you out,” Xie Lian said as the whistle opened his tiny red eye and shivered when he recognized them. 

Xie Lian opened the vitrine, grabbed E’Ming, and placed it inside his sleeve. 

“Now, let's get out of here before anyone finds us.”

Ruoye wondered if Xie Lian would ask him to put the alarm spell back before they left, but he never got to find out what his friend's plans were. 

As soon as he opened the door, they ran into the Heavenly Emperor himself. 

“You!” Xie Lian exclaimed, coming to an abrupt halt. 

“I’m the one who should be saying that,” the Heavenly Emperor—Jun Wu—said.

He frowned for a second, as if considering his next steps—and then he moved out of the way. 

“Walk with me, Your Highness.” 

Ruoye hissed at Jun Wu, but Xie Lian placed a finger on his nose to make him stop. After that, he followed the emperor, all meek and compliant. Too docile for Ruoye’s taste. After the betrayal, the little dragon wanted nothing but to sink his teeth and claws in that disgrace of a god.

“Do you remember,” Jun Wu said as they walked through a gorgeous garden, “when I said I was over you?” He made a pause and let out a regretful sigh. It sounded fake. “Well, I was wrong. I still want you to be mine. I realized it when I saw you leave a second time.”

“A second time?” Xie Lian spat. “The first time you kicked me down from the heavens.”

Jun Wu bothered to put a pained look on his face.

“And the second time you were kidnapped by that disrespectful thing you have around your neck, if you want to split hairs. But let’s just allow bygones to be bygones,” he hurried to add. “The point is that it pains me to see you like this. Stay, Your Highness. You’d be well taken care of. Pampered even. I’ll restore you to your former glory, and you’ll be able to watch over that cursed instrument currently up your sleeve—and even keep the baby dragon if you want, as a treat.”

Xie Lian pursed his lips.

“You’d only ‘restore me to my former glory,’ as you call it, because, otherwise I’m of no use to you. No thank you. I’d rather keep living as I have so far: free and happy. I’m leaving now, and I’m taking both E’Ming and the little one. ”

He increased the pace and the Heavenly Emperor stopped where he was, allowing the first to gain some distance before speaking again.

“Free? Maybe, but happy?”

Ruoye felt Xie Lian’s entire body tensing up, and the little dragon prepared himself to go for Jun Wu’s jugular. 

Xie Lian, however, had better control of himself and he kept walking. 

But Jun Wu wasn’t done pressing his thumb on the injury.

“After what happened to that bard because of you, one would have thought… Really, Your Highness, what were you thinking? Such wonderful talent, wasted and gone forever.”

That went through Xie Lian’s defenses. He stopped and turned around to face the Heavenly Emperor.

“Don’t speak about him ever again,” he said. “You are not worthy.”

Jun Wu raised an eyebrow.

“ I’m not worthy? Who influenced him to defy me? I warned you that such an action came with a heavy price, didn’t I? You know that first-hand. So why didn’t you—?”

Xie Lian had reached the end of his rope. Without warning, he charged against Jun Wu, interrupting him mid phrase with a punch on his chest.

“Shut up!”

Ruoye flew next to him, his teeth bared and ready to be put to good use. 

Jun Wu remained unfazed. He stopped Xie Lian from grabbing his foot with one hand, and then he threw him away, toward a bridge. 

Xie Lian twirled in the air. Even though he managed to land on his feet, the force had him slide backwards a handful of meters. 

Ruoye, meanwhile, bit Jun Wu’s hand, sinking his teeth in as deep as they would go. 

Wincing and unable to hold back a displeased noise, the god grabbed the little dragon and pulled him until he forced him to let go. In the process, he tore his skin further, and Ruoye had the pleasure of drawing first blood.

However, while the little dragon licked the godly blood from his lips, instead of throwing him away like the first time, or like he had done with Xie Lian, Jun Wu squeezed him. Hard. 

And then harder and harder. 

Pain settled in Ruoye’s body. Pain that increased by the second. 

No matter how much he struggled, he couldn’t free himself from the god emperor’s grip. 

Jun Wu took his time. The look of contempt came back to his face, multiplied tenfold. 

“Leave him alone!” Xie Lian yelled.

He was ready to charge against Jun Wu one more time. However, before he could give one step, and when Ruoye’s scales were about to crack, a wall of fire came up from the ground right underneath Jun Wu. 

The Heavenly Emperor had to jump backward to avoid it, releasing Ruoye in the process. 

The little dragon flew away as well, barely managing to avoid singeing his tail. 

“Little one!” Xie Lian called, and Ruoye landed on his shoulders. “Are you alright?” 

Ruoye let Xie Lian check on him, but not for long, because they had to regroup. Xie Lian also understood that, so he kept it brief. 

“I don’t know where that came from, but we should take advantage of it. Let’s go.” 

Xie Lian crossed the pond with a swift jump and hurried to the other side of the garden. 

Jun Wu wouldn’t have it, though. He followed Xie Lian with the intention of intercepting him. However, another wall of fire erupted right where he intended to land, forcing him to jump backward in the air. 

As soon as he touched the ground, the wall of fire became a circle around him, trapping him. 

Ruoye was mystified. Fire that followed its target with such precision could only be caused by a fire spirit. Out of principle, he should be wanting to get out of there and drag Xie Lian back to the wine cellar. Yet, in the past few days, many of Ruoye’s preconceptions about life and how the world worked had been challenged if not completely shattered. 

Why not this one too?

Xie Lian did run away, though. 

Jun Wu was too distracted to do anything about it. He tried to put out the fire with blasts of spiritual energy. But no matter how many times he did it, the fire kept coming up again and again. At this pace, soon it would be impossible for him to catch up with Xie Lian.

In spite of that advantage, right when they were about to reach the corridor that would lead them to the secret entrance, a dozen guards showed up. They held their swords in their hands and they looked fierce. 

At the same time, the wall of fire around Jun Wu disappeared.

“It was too good to be true,” Xie Lian murmured, adopting a fighting stance. 

Ruoye agreed. He didn’t know if they’d be able to fight their way through, but he would not make it easy for them.

Xie Lian went for the first blow. He didn’t give Jun Wu time to speak a word. Like a whirlwind, he jumped on the guards. Ruoye did as much as he could, biting them and scratching them. 

The gods from the Middle Court weren’t expecting a small dragon coming from the invader’s sleeves.

“You’re useless!” the Heavenly Emperor yelled. 

He was about to join the fight when another thing happened. 

A new column of fire came up, different from the ones before. This time, it condensed into a human-like shape with well-defined arms, legs, a torso, and a head. 

Out of reflex, Ruoye ran to hide between Xie Lian’s neck and hair, hissing. 

He had suspected it before, but now he was sure: a powerful fire spirit had just arrived. 

Both Xie Lian and Jun Wu stared at him, the first in awe and, the second, in horror and anger. 

“How did that thing get in here?” Jun Wu hissed.

The fire spirit hovered above the ground, making his presence felt. 

If rumors were true, he would notice the nearest dragon, no matter how small, and destroy it. Being the nearest dragon around, and despite his resolution of giving him a chance, Ruoye shook from behind Xie Lian’s hair.

“Get the fire spirit!” yelled the leader of the guards. 

His underlings forgot about Xie Lian and Ruoye, and charged against the fire spirit. The latter waved his hand and created another cage of fire around them, trapping them.

Jun Wu grit his teeth and marched toward Xie Lian.

“I guess you’ll have to do,” he growled.

“What?” Xie Lian asked. 

Jun Wu grabbed Xie Lian by the arm first and then by the throat. Before Ruoye could bite him, though, he pulled not only the bandages Xie Lian wore around his neck, but also some kind of collar. Then, he tossed Xie Lian toward the fire spirit.

“Do whatever you have to do to get that thing out of my palace before he burns it down!”

Ruoye tried and failed to steer Xie Lian away from the spirit, but Jun Wu had thrown him with too much force. When the little dragon realized that, he got ready to use the spiritual power he had left to put off the fire his friend was bound to catch. 

However, Xie Lian wasn’t engulfed by fire when he came into contact with the fire spirit. Instead, the fire around the creature subsided to reveal a pair of arms that cushioned the impact and held Xie Lian gently. 

“Gege, I’m sorry it took me so long to get back to you.”

In shock, both Ruoye and Xie Lian realized that, yes, the fire spirit was, indeed, San Lang. He looked a bit older, though, and his back was broader. His left eye shone as brightly as it had before—or more—but, in his right socket, a flame took the place of an eye. 

But it was him.

Underneath the shock, Xie Lian had gone a bit red on his face. 

“San Lang…” he murmured, reaching out to touch San Lang’s cheek. Once more, tears appeared on the brim of his eyes, but this time, they had an entirely different meaning. “San Lang, you’re here.”

With a soft expression on his face, San Lang leaned against Xie Lian’s touch.

“Gege, I’m sorry. I kept meaning to tell you, but the timing never seemed right.”

Xie Lian shook his head. He smiled between his tears.

“It’s alright. You’re here. And that’s what matters.”

“You already suspected I wasn’t human, didn’t you?”

Xie Lian nodded. 

“The necklace you gave me. It’s a betrothal gift among your people, isn’t it?”

Xie Lian’s knowledge took San Lang by surprise. Now he was the one going as red as his clothes.

“Yes. And you knew…”

“I knew and I accepted it. I was also willing to wait until you were ready to explain.”

San Lang put on a pained expression.

“I was going to once we got out of here, but I had to make sure you were safe first. Fortunately, that sorry excuse for a Heavenly Emperor pushed me inside the city’s foundations, giving me access to the lava underneath. I got back not only the spiritual power I lent to your pet—”

“I’m not a pet!” Ruoye whined in dragon tongue. 

Xie Lian giggled.

“He knows you’re not a pet. He’s just teasing,” he replied.

Also in dragon tongue.

Ruoye did a double take. 

Had that really happened?

“What are you doing?” Jun Wu yelled from where he stood. “Shouldn’t you be fighting? That’s what I freed you for!”

“Ah,” Xie Lian continued in dragon tongue. “If he wants me to fight, I guess I’ll have to.”

“Yes, gege,” San Lang said. “However, before that, could I have E’Ming back?”

“Certainly.” 

Xie Lian got the cursed instrument, still shaped as an ugly whistle, out of his sleeve and handed it to San Lang. 

“You’re a disgrace,” the latter said to E’Ming.

E’Ming shivered and transformed again, first into a flute and then into a pipa. 

San Lang’s expression changed slightly as if to indicate that this was better. Then, he grabbed Ruoye by his midsection and retreated a couple of steps to give Xie Lian space. He wasn’t gentle, but he wasn’t as harsh as Jun Wu had been, either—and he didn’t squeeze the little dragon. 

Ruoye didn’t feel like the fire spirit wanted to burn him either, so he didn’t protest. Much.

By then, the halls around the garden were at full capacity, not only with guards and soldiers, but also with other generals and civil gods. 

Jun Wu looked wild. The more people arrived, the more frantic he became—and, the more frantic Jun Wu became, the more curious Ruoye grew.

Xie Lian folded his hands into his sleeves and addressed the gods. When he spoke, he sounded and looked regal despite his humble, dirty robes. 

“The Heavenly Emperor has committed many sins throughout his life. The one he committed against me extended as well to my people, who were left without my protection. Recently, he made two mistakes. One: he released me from the curse he placed on me centuries ago. Two: he tried to hurt those I care about deeply. That, I can’t forgive. Therefore, I would appreciate it if the rest of you didn’t interfere. This is a personal matter.”

The gods remained in confused silence, and Jun Wu’s face became a mask of hate.

“You dare—?”

“Yes, I dare,” Xie Lian replied in an even more commanding voice, “because you dared first, even when I begged you not to.” He closed his eyes for one moment and, when he opened then again, they shone with a golden light. “It’s time.”

He took a step forward and his body began to change. Xie Lian became larger and longer and scalier. A magnificent set of horns came out from his forehead as his head shifted to accommodate them and he just wouldn’t stop growing. 

It didn’t take long for Xie Lian’s human body to transform into a large dragon that floated over the garden. But not just any dragon. This was the dragon god who had disappeared so long ago. Ruoye could tell just by looking at him.

Muffled gasps rose from the crowd. They expected this to happen as much as the little dragon did.

In all honesty, he felt quite dense for not figuring this out earlier. Looking back, there had been dozens of clues about his friend’s real identity. 

Ruoye risked a glance at San Lang and found him looking at Xie Lian with fascination. Fascination and love, he understood now. This was strange, given their species’ history, but Ruoye decided he would stop fighting it. As he had previously realized, this was a day for his beliefs about the world to be shattered.

Then, however, San Lang’s face grew upset. Ruoye followed his line of sight and saw that one of the martial gods had drawn his sword and was about to step forward to attack Xie Lian. 

“Who are you to threaten the Heavenly Emperor!” he called.

San Lang let go of Ruoye and plucked E’Ming’s strings. With that, he sent a blast of fire that landed right at the god’s feet. 

“Open your filthy mouth again and I’ll burn you and your entire bloodline to cinders! The same goes for the rest of you, do you hear me? His Highness has every right to take his revenge!”

The gods took a collective step backward. All of them realized that San Lang was strong enough and that he wasn’t bluffing. 

After all, this fire spirit had spent days absorbing the energy from the lava under the city, the very same that kept their rooms and their baths hot. All of them had spent millennia pouring spiritual energy to keep it going and making it stronger.

So yes, he could very well turn them all into a big bag of ash if he wished to.

Thus, it was only Jun Wu against Xie Lian. 

“I shackled you once! I will shackle you again, you ingrate!” Jun Wu exclaimed as he jumped toward the dragon.

Xie Lian roared on his way down, making clear that he didn’t agree. 

The Heavenly Emperor and the dragon god clashed. The impact created an energy wave that shook the entire Heavenly Capital. 

Without thinking, Ruoye tried to dart toward them to aid Xie Lian, but San Lang grabbed him again.

“You too. Abide by the rules.”

“Did you know?” Ruoye asked. “Did you know who he was all this time?”

“Yes, and my main goal has always been to free him. Now shut up and watch.”

“And to marry him?” Ruoye pressed, but San Lang didn’t respond.

The little dragon noticed that he hadn’t denied it either.

Above them, the fight raged on. Sparks flew every time Jun Wu’s sword hit Xie Lian’s claws, or whenever their spiritual attacks collided. It didn’t seem like it was an easy fight but, soon, Xie Lian started to prevail. 

Jun Wu folded backward as Xie Lian moved forward. Then, with a slap, Xie Lian made Jun Wu’s sword fly away, landing on the ground with a pathetic clank. With his other claw, he pinned him on the ground. 

He didn’t squeeze or press him until his armor broke, like Ruoye would have in revenge for the treatment he had gotten. Instead, he performed a spell on the Heavenly Emperor that dispersed all the spiritual energy he had and then…

And then Xie Lian let him go.

“I will give you the opportunity to cultivate your strength back. It will be difficult and it will take a long time, but it’s more than what you gave to me.”

“For what he did to you, Your Highness, that’s too soft of a punishment. He must be imprisoned,” said another voice coming from up high.

It was another dragon, an elder from Ruoye’s clan. He wasn’t the only one to come. Hundreds of dragons of all ages and sizes had congregated over the heavenly capital. They must have felt it when the dragon god’s energy came back to the world. 

“I’ll leave it to you to organize the trial,” Xie Lian said. “Right now, I have other business to attend to.”

He turned back to the ground. When he landed, he was in his human form again, the one Ruoye had met him as, and he ran to embrace San Lang. 

“Thank you,” he said. “For everything you’ve done.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Your Highness.”

Xie Lian smiled and wrapped his arms around the fire spirit’s neck.

“I like gege better.”

“Gege, then,” San Lang said, and leaned down to kiss him.

They kissed and embraced for a long time, seemingly forgetting the chaos around them. 

Meanwhile, Ruoye gave the stink eye to all the gods and dragons who dared to gape at the happy couple. 

What did they know? They hadn’t been there to see this story develop like he had.

“Little one,” Xie Lian called after a while. He looked the happiest he had ever been and his eyes shone as jewels. “Come here and tell me, what’s your name?”

“I’m Ruoye, Your Highness.”

“Ruoye, then. I would like to appoint you as my trusted bodyguard as a thank you for all your help. What do you say?”

“I say I’m honored!” Ruoye said, flying to Xie Lian’s shoulder. “Will you teach me more spells? That was fun.”

Xie Lian laughed.

“Of course I will. We’ll also continue our calligraphy practices. The three of us.”

San Lang didn’t protest out loud, but he made a face. 

Ruoye scoffed at the fire spirit. He might be Xie Lian’s bodyguard now, but San Lang would get to be the dragon god’s consort. What else could he want from life?

A fire spirit as the consort of a dragon god, who would have thought? 

Ruoye looked up and grinned at the confused looks from the other dragons. They’d come to accept this development just as Ruoye had, he was sure. Although, he didn’t envy the journey they had in front of them. 

Ruoye rested his head on Xie Lian’s shoulder just as San Lang opened over them an umbrella that had a red eye on the handle. With all these dragons around, of course it was going to start raining. But it was a soft, sweet rain, just as Ruoye anticipated the rest of their lives to be.