See? They really do know each other.
Watching Jikuhir’s familiar expression toward Prince Zhu Bajie, Cang Xiaoxi couldn’t help but marvel once again at the wonders of genetics.
But in that instant, Jikuhir’s killing intent surged uncontrollably—startling the boy.
“How dare you show your face before me again, you good-for-nothing fat pig! For murdering my clansmen, you’ll pay with your blood!”
No sooner had she spoken than several icy spikes materialized above Prince Zhu Bajie’s head.
Just as bloodshed seemed inevitable, the prince literally clung to Cang Xiaoxi’s leg.
“Big bro, please save me! Even if you haven’t married Lisdel yet, I’m still your brother-in-law by technicality—you can’t abandon me!”
“Idiot! Let go! What nonsense is this fat pig spouting?!”
Prince Zhu Bajie’s tearful, wailing display was genuinely pitiful.
Even Cang Xiaoxi felt a tiny hint of sympathy.
But before that could settle, the mention of marrying Lisdel left him baffled. He frowned.
*Who is Lisdel? Since when did someone besides this clueless Dragon Sovereign want to marry me?*
Truth was, he’d completely forgotten Lisdel existed—or rather, never registered her at all. The boy’s attitude toward girls came with deep-rooted baggage.
Not something fixed overnight.
“Hey, who’s Lisdel? Ring any bells?” Cang Xiaoxi asked. Having spent the whole day with Jikuhir, he figured she might know.
“Fat pig—*who’s* marrying *whom*? Say that again!” Jikuhir ignored him, redirecting all her killing aura at the prince.
Feeling his life flash before his eyes, Prince Zhu Bajie released Cang Xiaoxi’s leg and stumbled back.
Trembling under her overwhelming presence, he stammered incoherently.
With the ice spike a hair’s breadth (0.01mm) from his eyeball, Jikuhir roared:
“Xiaoxi is *my* husband! You bastard—DIE!!!”
“Sorry! Ugh… uh…”
Beneath the Dragon Sovereign’s jealousy-fueled roar, the prince let out a choked gasp and collapsed—unconscious.
His lower half, once again, betrayed him.
Truly… *congratulations*.
“Tch. Unsatisfying,” the little loli clicked her tongue. “As expected—every human except Xiaoxi is utter trash. Not even worth hitting.”
*Dragon Sovereign’s Rule of Swagger: After the flex, drop extra taunts. And never skip praising your favorite person.*
She swept her waist-length silver hair, then waved cheerfully at Cang Xiaoxi without turning.
“Xiaoxi~ How was it? Was little Kuku amazing?”
“Mm, amazing! Never knew your claws were this sharp.”
“Aww, not *that* sharp~ Just enough to split a century-old tree with one swipe.”
“This fur looks usable for clothes. Seems soft, but actually pretty stiff.”
“Not *that* stiff! The fur on little Kuku’s tail is just—wait?! Do I even *have* tail fur?!”
Her eyes widened. She shook her scaly tail—finally realizing they’d been talking past each other.
Watching Cang Xiaoxi curiously stroke Fenrir’s claws, Jikuhir’s face crumpled.
“Waaah… Why do I feel so defeated? Is my charm really less than a silly husky’s?”
Her heart ached. He’d never looked at *her* like that. *Do boys just like fluffy things?*
But Dragonkin had no beast ears. Even their tails were armored in rigid scales.
*How do I become fluffy enough to catch Xiaoxi’s eye?*
Lost in pointless thoughts, tail swaying, she approached him with a gloomy pout.
“Done chatting with your ‘older brother’?”
“That fat pig is *not* my brother. Please don’t joke, Xiaoxi,” she waved weakly. “Anyway… what’ll you do with *it*?”
She pointed at Fenrir trapped in the stone cell. Though no longer radiating Boundless Realm pressure, Jikuhir’s calf twitched.
“I’ll take it back to the previous room,” Cang Xiaoxi mused, chin in hand. “If it awakened there, clues might remain.”
“Mm. I follow Xiaoxi’s lead. Whatever you say.”
To show sincerity—and soak up Xiaoxi essence—she lunged for a hug.
“Let’s go.”
He sidestepped cleanly, yanked Fenrir from the cell, and strode off without a glance.
“Mmm~ Xiaoxi… isn’t it time you accepted me?”
Pouting, she swayed her tiny tail and scurried after him—terrified of being left behind.
And so, one human, one dragon, and one husky returned to their makeshift base.
As for the forgotten prince: after waking from his faint, dragging his soiled lower half, he earned a new title upon returning home—*Chamber Pot Prince*.
When Lisdel later asked about Cang Xiaoxi, he stammered excuses about the boy traveling alone. She misinterpreted it as him training to become worthy of her—a beautifully layered misunderstanding.
It would take years, a multinational conference, and a reunion during Mosiri Kingdom’s summoned Sage discussions to finally clear things up.
…
“Hey, Dragon Sovereign—do you eat wolf meat here?”
“Probably not… Wait?! Xiaoxi, you don’t mean—NO! I’d never! Little Kuku only loves sweet Spirit Peaches!”
“Relax. Joking. I wouldn’t eat it either.”
Back at their temporary base—the room tangled with Fenrir’s mystery—the two debated the wolf’s fate.
“Just kill it. Clean. Simple. This little husky’s no match for Xiaoxi now,” Jikuhir said, eyeing the exhausted Fenrir.
“Must you be so violent? Your bluntness got you betrayed.”
“Grr… Can’t argue…”
Chided by this faux shota, Jikuhir drooped her head.
Through Cang Xiaoxi’s… *ahem*, guidance, she’d grown aware of her past recklessness as Dragon Sovereign—and why loyalty had shattered.
(She’d never admit it aloud. Not even for Xiaoxi.)
“Place it on the altar first. See if anything happens. Decide after.”
With earth magic, Cang Xiaoxi smoothly lifted the stone cell onto the altar beneath the Fenrir statue. “Stay alert.”
*BOOM!* Cyan-silver light erupted.
A holographic figure resembling Fenrir shimmered above the altar.
“Jikuhir!”
“Yes!”
They tensed instantly.
But the projection spoke as if unaware of them:
“Descendant of the dragon line carrying my friend’s blood—I am Cyberil Fenrir. Opponent and friend to the Primordial Dragon King. You understand.”
“Cyberil Fenrir?! The ancient Fenrir Clan leader?!” Jikuhir gasped.
But her unease ran deeper: *“Opponent AND friend? Weren’t they enemies?!”*
“Save questions for later. His ancestor’s still speaking,” Cang Xiaoxi murmured gently.
She nodded.
“You have many doubts. But this is only a recording—I cannot answer. I have one wish: take in this child. One day, it will aid you—answer why the Primordial Dragon King and I were friends… and become the force to shatter *that person’s* script…”
The projection vanished.
Within the fading cyan-silver glow, Fenrir on the altar began to shrink.
