592: Chapter 592 Where He Is

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the Immortal Court.

Deep within the curtains, the figure of Qin Zhaoer, who had also been sleeping for a long time, suddenly saw her eyelashes tremble slightly.

The next moment, her eyes slowly opened.

At first, her gaze was still a bit dazed, staring blankly at the top of the canopy, as if she had not yet recovered from her dream.

After a long while, that unfocused gaze gradually gathered bit by bit.

"...I've returned."

In that soft murmur, it was unclear whether it was relief or loss.

Yet, a crystal-clear teardrop fell quietly from the corner of her eye without warning, disappearing into her hair.

It seemed to be the latter.

The little maid waiting on the side was the first to notice her mistress had awakened. She shuddered, ignored everything else, and hurriedly stood up, tiptoeing out to call the other maids in.

Before long, several figures stood respectfully before the couch.

Even the snow-white spirit fox coiled on the spirit jade soft couch propped itself up, its eyes looking timidly into the canopy, not daring to move.

This mistress's temper was notorious in the Immortal Court.

Arrogant, overbearing, and fickle. If one accidentally annoyed her, the light punishment was kneeling, and the heavy one... no one dared to imagine the consequences.

So, even though everyone had arrived, no one dared to speak first. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the head maid to speak.

As the head maid, she was accustomed to her mistress's temper and was more composed than the others, knowing she should be the one to start.

After steadying herself, she stepped forward half a step and spoke softly.

"Young Miss, you have finally awakened."

These words were spoken with extreme caution.

In truth, no one knew what the Young Miss had been doing during this sleep.

Whether it was Cultivate, healing, or something else, no one knew, and no one dared to ask.

Everyone assumed the mistress had been in seclusion, so they followed up with congratulations.

"Congratulations on ending your seclusion, Young Miss!"

As the words fell, all the maids in the room held their breath and lowered their heads, waiting for the first instruction from this ancestor after opening her eyes—most likely, she would be finding fault with someone again.

However.

On the couch, Qin Zhaoer did not speak but slowly propped herself up.

Once she sat straight, she belatedly noticed something and raised her hand to gently wipe the corner of her eye.

On the back of her finger was a cool dampness.

Looking at the tear stain, she was stunned for a moment, and her lips curled into a wistful arc.

The maid on the side hurriedly stepped forward, carefully supporting her and placing a soft pillow behind her mistress.

Her black hair fell like a waterfall along her snow-white shoulders and neck; her cloud-gauze nightgown hung loosely, making her figure appear even more delicate. In the laziness of just waking up, there was an indescribable allure.

Without any makeup, she was already a peerless beauty capable of mesmerizing the world.

Yet, the first sentence this peerless beauty asked left everyone in the room stunned.

"Where is... Qin Wangchuan?"

"Has he... woken up yet?"

The voice was very light, very soft, and very complex.

There was melancholy, sadness, the daze of waking from a big dream, and an indescribable attachment.

Looking so melancholy, where was there any trace of her usual arrogance and overbearing nature?

All the maids in the room were stunned.

Was this still the mistress they knew?

"Replying... replying to Young Miss," a maid answered timidly, "His Highness the Divine Son has already ended his seclusion."

"He has ended his seclusion."

Qin Zhaoer responded softly, her eyelids drooping slightly.

"That is good..."

"That is good..."

As she spoke, she suddenly chuckled.

How silly.

She had known it all along.

Knowing it was just a trial, knowing that even if he died, he would return here safely.

Yet that day, in that small courtyard, when she saw his cold corpse.

She still cried.

Crying so hard, so heart-wrenchingly, as if they were truly separated by life and death.

Knowing it was fake, she still couldn't stop.

Tell me, if this isn't being a fool, what is?

The maid secretly glanced up, a sense of surprise inexplicably arising in her heart.

Today's Young Miss seemed... a bit different.

The arrogance that kept people at a distance, the hostility that could flare up at any moment, were all gone now; her expression was so gentle that people could hardly recognize her.

This surprise also fell into Qin Zhaoer's eyes.

In normal times, if the maids dared to show such an offensive look, they would inevitably be punished, perhaps even by her own hand.

But at this moment, she couldn't even be bothered to cast a glance at them. She just sat there in a daze, her gaze landing on the flowing spirit light outside the canopy, her thoughts drifting very, very far away.

Ten Directions Immortal Court.

This world was the Holy Land that countless people dreamed of stepping into, the place of supreme glory.

She was home; she should be happy.

But for some reason, upon returning this time, not only was there no joy in her heart, but it was filled with an indescribable melancholy.

She still wanted to stay a little longer, to stay in that place.

...No.

As this thought crossed her mind, Qin Zhaoer's eyes suddenly sharpened.

Stop lying to yourself.

What she was truly reluctant to leave was never that place, but—the place where he was.

Once the thought emerged, the melancholy blocking her heart suddenly cleared up.

She raised her hand.

"All of you, leave."

The maids, as if granted amnesty, retreated silently, leaving only one person in the vast bedroom.

Qin Zhaoer lay back into the soft brocade quilt and slowly closed her eyes.

'Since I cannot return to the past... then, let me linger for a while longer.'

'Just a little while.'

Grasping onto the lingering aftertaste, she wanted to go back and take one last look.

Return to that small town.

Return to that small courtyard.

The curtains fell, isolating the flowing light in the room.

In the darkness, that small town paved with bluestone, that creaking courtyard gate, that figure who always looked at her indifferently, once again became clear before her eyes, bit by bit.

In a daze, it felt as if she had never left.

...

Qin Family Small World, True Dragon Realm.

In the core hinterland of the True Dragon Realm, inside the Ancestral Dragon Palace, there was a place specifically cleared for Dragon Gauze to Cultivate.

It was a scorched earth of crimson red, with several scorching suns hanging in the sky, baking it year-round, with not a blade of grass growing.

At this moment, on the scorched earth, an earth-shattering slaughter was unfolding.

An ancient Vicious Beast with a mountain-like figure, covered in profound black scales, was roaring and crazily pouncing and biting at that figure.

The one being attacked was a tall, peerless, and beautiful figure.

A white and blue Heavenly Qilin dress fluttered with her movements, and the ribbons around her body stretched and danced along with her, maneuvering between the fangs and claws of the behemoth—thrilling, yet indescribably pleasing to the eye.

It was Dragon Gauze in her mature form.

She was surrounded by flowing golden light; every punch and kick carried the Dragon might to shatter mountains.

There was no hostility of slaughter in those golden pupils, only a calm that was almost indifferent, as she firmly held the upper hand.

Meanwhile.

On the viewing platform not far away, a figure stood quietly.

If one were to say that Dragon Gauze's Heavenly Qilin dress on the scorched earth was the color of heavenly light, stunning, awe-inspiring, and ostentatiously eye-catching.

Then this figure was the exact opposite, the other pole.

Wearing a profound black long dress, deep within the ink color, fine scale patterns flowed with the light, emitting a faint watery hue, as if living creatures were swimming between the hem of the dress—cold, calm, and dignified.

One vibrant, one cold; one flamboyant, one reserved; just like the heavenly light and the abyss, each occupying one side.

When looking at the face above the hem, it made it even harder for people to look away.

Her skin was whiter than snow, her brows and eyes were cold; she was clearly a breathtaking beauty, yet she exuded a dignity that kept strangers at a distance, making people afraid to look a second time upon seeing her.

It was the Sacred Heir Fate Officer of the True Dragon Clan, Long Yue.

She looked at the figure flying on the scorched earth, and her usually cold brows and eyes curved involuntarily.

The hardships of these days were not in vain; this girl was truly getting stronger and stronger.

(Is the contrast here a bit impressive? Others would write about ice and fire, a contrast like "ice and fire dual heavens." But the writing here is blue-white and profound black, isn't it a bit invincible!)