Luo Qingchuan silently took out his phone.
“Do you have a personal social media account?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s add each other.”
“Mm.” Chen Yanyu realized she felt little joy.
Clumsily, she swiped the screen and added Luo Qingchuan.
“Can I ask you another personal question?”
“Go ahead,” Luo Qingchuan’s tone softened. “If I can answer, I will.”
“You…”
Chen Yanyu hesitated.
“Why cultivate demonic arts? It’s dangerous, frightening… people will misunderstand you later.”
*You seem like a good person.*
*Why?*
*To even ask this…*
Luo Qingchuan opened his mouth, then paused.
“To protect myself. And because it’s all I know.”
He murmured softly, recalling a classmate’s old question:
*“Why push so hard? You’re exhausting everyone with your drive.”*
*“No one shares the path to immortality with me…
Beneath the spring sun of the Luo River, I sing my song.”*
In the boy’s fox-like, bewitching eyes—eyes that held no innocence—lay a loneliness mirroring hers…
and helplessness.
The difference?
He refused to accept it.
He defied fate.
A gentle smile lit Luo Qingchuan’s eyes. “Gain strength. Protect yourself. You should too.”
“Huh?”
“If someone hurts you, use your fists.”
He swung his right fist lightly, hoping she’d learn to guard herself.
*He’s actually lecturing me…* Chen Yanyu bit her lip.
“Is someone threatening you? Are you forced into this? Is your situation dangerous?”
His words sparked uneasy suspicion. She gripped his arm.
“Don’t hide it. Tell me. I’m stronger than you think.”
Her voice was soft yet stubborn.
*…She’s so easy to deceive.*
Luo Qingchuan stayed silent, eyes like an eerie abyss.
*Yes. It could work.*
*Use Chen Yanyu. Kill the chosen one—Zuo Tian.*
*Eliminate the threat.*
*Zuo Tian has a guardian… but a few tricks could lure that white-haired dragon girl into battle.*
*Even if Chen Yanyu dies—*
*No… not “even if.”*
*Preferably.*
*Let her die.*
*The Dragon King of the Eastern Sea would rage.*
*The hidden dragon rises from the abyss; all beings bow.*
*Ten-thousand-foot thunderbolts would reduce Zuo Tian to ash.*
*Just say the word…*
Chen Yanyu’s reflection trembled in his pupils.
*She’d obey. I could weave endless lies to send this foolish girl to her death.*
*Then… my happy life awaits.*
*But…*
*But…*
“No need.”
Luo Qingchuan smiled, a flicker of self-mockery.
“Why?”
Chen Yanyu held his arm, her golden eyes wide with confusion—lost like a fawn searching for home.
“If someone bullies you… we can face them together. I don’t mean to cling… but if you’re struggling, needing help… come to me.”
She needed an answer.
Pedestrians brushed past. Cars honked impatiently. Sparrows chirped from branches.
Every soul rushed toward tomorrow.
Amid the noise, Luo Qingchuan gently pressed her small, slightly cold hand.
“I want the world to treat you gently.”
Each word cut clearly through the chaos.
He looked at the little dragon girl—remembering her past, the tragic future foretold.
His heart was fragile.
He hated this nauseating empathy… yet thanked it for keeping him human.
*At least… I still choose to be good.*
Fate stood like a tiger in the road.
He would fight it. Never yield.
Chen Yanyu froze.
Luo Qingchuan’s smile softened. “I can handle it. It’s not your burden. Getting involved puts you in danger. Thank you for your kindness, Miss Chen.”
Her eyes shimmered. Bewildered. Speechless.
That sudden tenderness—irresistible—cracked her defenses again.
*…My heart still races for him.*
She stammered, “How did you know my surname was Chen?”
Silence fell around them.
Luo Qingchuan’s smile stiffened.
*…Careless.*
Flustered, Chen Yanyu pointed at him. “Can you read minds?!”
“Ahem.” He waved his phone with a grin. “Your WeChat shows your real name.”
“Huh?”
Relief flushed her cheeks. She snatched her phone to edit it.
*Phew.*
“How… should I call you?”
“Luo Qingchuan.”
“May I chat with you later?” She smiled sweetly. “I don’t know anyone else.”
Her contacts held only him.
He nodded. “If I’m free, I’ll reply.”
He understood her loneliness.
He’d offer kindness—until she found friends.
With her dragon identity, after the spiritual revival, crowds would gather. Suitors would flock.
*Or… would that make her lonelier?*
Chen Yanyu called a car back to Falling Immortal Hotel—her luggage still in the lobby.
They walked in silence. A faint sorrow clung to her.
Luo Qingchuan waited until she was safely inside before leaving.
With time to spare, he bought the latest flagship phone and headed toward high school.
He didn’t need to attend.
Truth was, Luo Qingchuan skipped daily—and teachers dared not intervene.
… … …
Su Yingsnow sat in the literature club, fingers tracing the cracked corner of her phone. She typed a post:
*[Day One of Missing You.]*
The future swordswoman blushed in her uniform, hair tied in a youthful ponytail—like a girl lost in first love.
Just before posting, she paused.
Scrolled back. Found one name among few contacts:
*[Note: Zuo Tian]*
Slender finger tapped.
Status bar appeared.
*[Delete]*
Gone.
As if erasing him from her life.
*No more heartache over someone insignificant.*
*I have my Chuanchuan.*
A relieved, carefree smile bloomed in her eyes—bright as stars rising in the night.
A curly-haired girl glanced up from her phone. “Su Yingsnow… are you in love?”
“Mm, Senior Gao.” She admitted openly. “I have a boyfriend.”
Su Yingsnow—always aloof, celestial, untouchable—now glowed with quiet happiness.
Unthinkable.
Gao Rongrong’s mood soured.
“Who? That childhood friend who can’t cultivate? What’s his name…”
“No.” Su Yingsnow shook her head, eyes crinkling. “His name… is Luo Qingchuan.”
Gao Rongrong froze.
*My target… stolen.*
*By Su Yingsnow—the girl who’d grown weary of Luo Qingchuan’s endless confessions.*
She let out a hollow laugh. “The guy who confessed dozens of times? You agreed just like that?”
“Why not?” Su Yingsnow’s lips curved, rosy and serene.
Gao Rongrong smirked. “You should’ve made him wait. Saying yes too soon makes you seem easy.”
“Really?” Su Yingsnow’s voice stayed gentle. “If Luo Qingchuan confessed to *you*, you’d say yes immediately. Or throw yourself at him—his family’s wealthy. Isn’t that the kind of ‘business’ Senior enjoys?”
Gao Rongrong’s face tightened.
The pure, ladylike Su Yingsnow—rumored to be ice—spoke with quiet steel.
Brows furrowed, voice sharp: “Su Yingsnow. That’s too much!”
