CH 140

Sixty-two Dragons (1)

Upon hearing the price mentioned by Uncle Zong, Mu Wanwan started to have second thoughts.

Mister Long was still recovering, and he could only stay awake for a few hours each day. Perhaps it would be more beneficial to let him absorb the spirit stones instead.

But what Uncle Zong said next moved her a little.

“That guy has a terrible temper and isn’t very well-groomed, but if your idea is good, he might charge you a much cheaper price,” he said.

So, Mu Wanwan followed Uncle Zong through several alleyways until they reached a small and somewhat rundown shop. Uncle Zong told her to handle things herself and go back to the shop to look for him again later, then immediately dashed off as if hiding from something.

Mu Wanwan knocked on the door, opened it, and stood inside the cramped shop that was filled with all sorts of materials that it was almost impossible to find somewhere to place her feet. The air was dusty and carried an unpleasant smell. She saw a dwarf who was holding a hammer in his hand. Uncle Zong had said he was called “Uncle Tie1”.

Although cultivators were not particularly afraid of cold weather, Mu Wanwan rarely saw anyone wearing thick pants yet being bare-chested in such weather. Uncle Tie’s skin was a light green colour, and he could not be described as good-looking. There was a long scar from his ear to his lips, and a pair of slightly protruding deep brown glass eyes were hidden beneath his drooping eyelids, making him look a little scary.

His exposed body was covered with scars of all sizes, and occasionally, there was a flash of black smoke. Mu Wanwan blinked twice and thought she was mistaken.

“What do you want?” He raised his slightly cloudy eyes and spoke with a hoarse, wheezing voice.

“Senior.” Mu Wanwan bowed to him, and before she could state her purpose, she felt something akin to a sharp sword cutting through the air, coming straight at her. Instinctively, she tried to dodge, but she couldn’t avoid it and was hit, falling to the ground on her backside.

It wasn’t particularly painful, and after a brief moment of confusion, Mu Wanwan finally saw what had hit her—it was a… miniature iron hammer?

“I hate it when people call me ‘senior.’ Call me Uncle Tie, and get to the point,” said Uncle Tie. He chortled, and his pupils trembled violently as he stared intently at her. The scars on his face seemed to come alive, which was rather terrifying.

Mu Wanwan, “…”

She got up, picked up the small iron hammer, and dusted it off. “Uncle Tie, I would like to customize something that can assist with walking…”

Mu Wanwan briefly described her request, saying, “Because my husband’s legs are rather long, I hope the height can be adjustable.”

In truth, Mu Wanwan wanted to say that Mister Long’s tail was long, and according to modern wheelchair standards, it would probably be impossible to accommodate him. Just imagine, Mister Long, who already had half of his tail missing, having his tail scrape against the ground while she pushed him in a wheelchair—it would certainly not be a pleasant experience.

“Oh,” Uncle Tie didn’t even lift his eyelids. The fingers holding the iron hammer trembled slightly. “One low-grade spirit stone. Come back to collect it in three hours.”

“Eh?” Mu Wanwan thought she misheard and couldn’t help but ask, “Uncle Tie, is it really just one low-grade spirit stone?”

Uncle Tie didn’t even glance at her. As if impatient, he simply used the miniature hammer to push her out of the shop. Mu Wanwan fell to the ground, and stared dumbfounded at the closed door in front of her.

Uncle Tie’s temper was truly peculiar. She thought he disliked her, but who would have thought he only wanted one low-grade spirit stone.

Mu Wanwan stood up and looked at the grey sky. She was worried about her dragon and little chirp at home, so she hastened to buy what she needed. She had promised Mister Long that she would bring back meat.

Once he confirmed that the person outside had gone far away, Uncle Tie suddenly bent over and dropped the hammer that had never left his hand. It created a huge pit on the floor, causing all the surrounding materials to crash to the ground, turning the room into a chaotic mess.

However, he didn’t seem to care. His eyes trembled with a hint of dread—

She had his scent on her. Even after all these years, he still hasn’t forgotten the image of that figure’s back bathed in a sea of blood.

Uncle Tie clutched his head. Black demonic energy slowly seeped out of his body. Of the thousands of slaves from back then, there were probably not many who are still alive today.

Footnotes:

1 Uncle Tie: “Tie” here is the transliteration of the Chinese word for iron, which is what was in the raws. I chose to keep to the Chinese transliteration to be consistent with the rest of the names, as Uncle Iron would sound really odd.