471: Chapter 471 Ahhhhh

Night fell.

The hall doors were pushed open.

Qin Wangchuan looked up, gazing at the familiar figure.

Still clad in that dragon-scale gown, still wearing that aloof, cold face.

Only, between her brows and eyes, there was a trace more... awkwardness than yesterday.

"The one attending tonight..."

Long Yue paused.

"...is still me."

Qin Wangchuan looked at her, saying nothing.

Long Yue's cheeks flushed slightly under his gaze. She turned her back, closing the door.

"I switched shifts with Ye Jianwei," she said softly.

Qin Wangchuan remained silent.

He simply watched her.

A moment later, he spoke:

"Come here."

Long Yue walked over.

She stopped before him.

Qin Wangchuan gave her a once-over.

Tonight's Long Yue seemed somewhat different from last night.

The dragon-scale gown still outlined her graceful curves, but her aura...

It had shed the youthful naivety, taking on a rather enticing flavor.

Ripe.

"This outfit will do," he said.

Long Yue's delicate frame trembled faintly.

This outfit referred to the black scale gown.

Her Fate-Scribe's robes.

The Fate-Scribe's robes symbolizing majesty and power.

Usually kept meticulously, but here, they became a playful little prop.

She nodded.

Then, she bent down.

Clad in the scale gown, stepping on jade-colored high heels.

Four limbs touching the ground.

Then, she raised her hands, offering over two silk ribbons she had prepared.

"Please, Dragon Lord..."

"...take the reins..."

As the words fell, her forehead was forced to tilt high.

That night, neither held back.

Silk ribbons snapped.

Scale gown scattered across the floor.

Switching to ceremonial robes, they continued.

Another night passed.

After rising, Long Yue's face regained its composed, icy calm.

Her legs trembling, she stood by the bed, bowing in farewell.

Then, she turned and left.

Yet, every night, she would come again.

Without words, closing the door and beginning the battle.

What Qin Wangchuan noticed was that the things she brought grew stranger each time.

The first time, it was hair-binding ribbons.

The second time, custom-made, slightly sturdier ones.

The third time, still ribbons, but in a different place.

Wrapped around her neck and dragon horns.

Each time, she would say the same words:

"Please, Dragon Lord..."

"...take the reins."

Qin Wangchuan didn't quite understand.

What did she think she was?

A mount?

But he didn't ask.

Assuming it was a True Dragon Clan tradition.

He didn't understand, but he respected it.

But in truth, this really was a True Dragon Clan tradition.

Since ancient times, some Dragons had been captured to serve as mounts.

Thus, the term "mount" became the lowliest word among the Dragon Clan.

It represented being controlled by another, becoming another's possession, losing all autonomy.

Yet, this was precisely what Long Yue liked.

In those brief moments, she wasn't a sinner, not a sacred heir, not a Fate-Scribe, not anyone's support.

She was merely an object.

An object belonging to him.

——

The final day.

The battle ended.

Long Yue rose, dressing neatly as usual, combing her long hair, restoring that aloof, cold face.

After learning of Qin Wangchuan's concerns, she spoke boldly:

"It is indeed a mount."

As she spoke, Long Yue raised a hand, her fingertip tapping a spot on her waist.

"Here."

She tapped again, behind her.

"And here."

"It's already been ridden many times."

Qin Wangchuan tilted his head, looking at her.

That face still wore the aloof, dignified expression of a Fate-Scribe, her brows and eyes even carrying a touch of businesslike seriousness.

But the words she spoke...

He couldn't comprehend how she uttered such things with that face.

"Moreover," Long Yue continued, her tone still flat, "I like it."

"I like that feeling."

"Not having to think of anything, not having to do anything, just..."

She paused.

"...enduring."

The hall fell silent for a moment.

Qin Wangchuan looked at her.

She looked back at him, not evading, not shy, just calmly returning his gaze.

As if reporting on a task.

"Then I shall take my leave..."

Before she could finish, her wrist was suddenly grasped.

The next moment, she was pulled back entirely.

That phrase "please take the reins" had, at some point, changed in flavor.

It became——

"Please, Dragon Lord..."

"...ride."

That day, the Divine Son Hall was unusually closed to visitors.

All callers were turned away at the door.

No one knew what was happening inside.

Only Ye Jianwei wore a face full of melancholy.

Sister Long Yue said she wanted to extend the time again.

"Why is she so mean?"

A full ten days.

When the doors of the Divine Son Hall finally opened, the first step Long Yue took was steady, her expression as normal as ever.

That face was still aloof, her brows and eyes even carrying more detachment than before.

As if those ten days behind closed doors were merely spent handling some top-secret official business.

But some things cannot be hidden.

As she walked down the corridor, her skirt swayed lightly, each step as if treading on clouds.

That face remained cold, yet the corners of her eyes and brows clearly held something indescribable.

Like spring water flowing beneath a frozen lake.

A passing Dragoness stopped, gazing dazedly at her retreating figure.

"Fate-Scribe... seems different."

"Different how?"

"Just... can't quite say."

Another Dragoness bit her lower lip, her eyes full of envy.

That laziness and satiation emanating from her very bones, those traces left after being fiercely doted upon—no makeup could ever depict it.

In the distance, several Dragon Princes stood with hands behind their backs, their gazes gloomy.

"Fate-Scribe... has finally descended to the mortal realm."

"Indeed, become another's possession on the bed."

They gritted their teeth, their tones full of bitterness and unwillingness.

That unattainably high Fate-Scribe, that icy mountain they had looked up to for centuries, now...

Belonged to another.

If they knew what Long Yue was like behind that door during those ten days—

What expressions had crossed that aloof face, what looks had filled those indifferent eyes, what words that mouth that rarely spoke had uttered time and again, the phrase "ride"...

They would likely suffer Dao Heart collapse on the spot.

Who could have imagined?

That outwardly aloof Long Yue, that Fate-Scribe revered by the entire True Dragon Clan, actually...

Had such a side.

Life went on as usual.

Long Yue still handled official duties daily, her face icy, her words concise, as if those ten days were merely an illusion.

Only occasionally, she would subconsciously raise a hand, her fingertips lightly stroking her waist.

Then, the corner of her mouth would curve into an extremely faint arc.

Finally, it was Ye Jianwei's turn.

"Sister Long Yue, didn't you say we were taking turns? How come you took twelve days all by yourself?"

"Special circumstances."

"What's so special?"

"Everything is special."

Long Yue didn't answer, simply turned and left.

Her skirt swayed lightly, her steps unhurried.

Leaving Ye Jianwei standing alone, melancholy giving way to excitement.

It's my turn!

——

A few more days passed, and an invitation arrived in Qin Wangchuan's hands.

Sent by the Yun Family, requesting a meeting.

Qin Wangchuan looked at the invitation, considering.

Since he had to return to the Myriad Dao Academy anyway, stopping by on the way was no trouble.

Thus, he agreed.

The night before departure, Long Yue came again.

She moved directly into the Divine Son Hall, saving much trouble.

For example, not needing to change clothes.

Clad in ceremonial robes, she pushed the door open, then closed it.

Qin Wangchuan once again rode his exclusive mount.