CH 142

Sixty-two Dragons (3)

This gave Mu Wanwan some confidence. She made an appointment with Uncle Zong to meet again in ten days, then got ready to go to the Leisure Pavilion to broadcast some information.

As she was about to leave, Auntie Yun suddenly called out to her, “Lassie, wait.”

Mu Wanwan halted and looked at her.

Auntie Yun smiled softly, her eyes filled with gentleness. “Come, give me your hand.”

Mu Wanwan didn’t know what Auntie Yun wanted to do. She extended her hand, and in the next moment, she felt a sharp pain in her fingertips as Auntie Yun swiftly took out a pendant from her pocket and absorbed the droplet of blood from Mu Wanwan’s finger.

Auntie Yun hung the pendant around her neck. “It’s a little trinket that can conceal your cultivation level. I have no use for it, so you take it. Don’t thank me, or I’ll get angry.”

Mu Wanwan: “…”

All the words in her mouth were stuck in her throat, unable to be spoken or swallowed.

Auntie Yun’s expression was gentle, and her kindness towards Mu Wanwan was much purer than that of the orphanage director, leaving her feeling somewhat at a loss.

“Don’t think about it, hurry, go. Uncle Tie doesn’t like people being late,” said Uncle Zong, chasing Mu Wanwan out without any show of courtesy.

Mud Wanwan felt a pang in her heart; she just clutched the pendant and nodded.

She spent two medium-grade spirit stones and three curse-removing Spirit Returning Pills at the Leisure Pavilion to broadcast her message, waiting to contact Jiu Qing during her next outing. By the time she went to Uncle Tie to pick up the wheelchair and walked for a long time to find Hongye at the market entrance, snowflakes began to fall from the sky.

White and cute feather-like snowflakes landed on her face, but they carried a sense of coldness.

It was snowing.

Mister Long was still wearing thin inner garments, and Mengmeng’s feathers also seemed a little sparse.

The light gray clouds reflected in Mu Wanwan’s eyes, casting a gloomy shadow.

“Madam, let’s go back quickly,” Hongye’s clear voice rang out, and Mu Wanwan nodded in agreement.

Wearing a low-quality veiled hat she just bought for three silver coins, Mu Wanwan boarded the ox cart and began to head home——

She wondered what Mister Long was doing now. Would he be looking forward to her bringing back something delicious? What expression would he have when he saw the foldable lightweight wheelchair Uncle Tie made?

Just thinking about it filled her with anticipation.

While Mu Wanwan was making her way back, Mister Long was playing a game with Mengmeng.

To be precise, Mister Long was “playing” with Mengmeng.

With his wife not at home, he could move without having to conceal himself. Walking felt like he was stepping on needles, though.

Sitting in Mu Wanwan’s designated seat, Mister Long held the back of the chubby chirp with one hand, and supported his chin with the other, absentmindedly rolling Mengmeng back and forth.

Seeing it fall on the cushion and clumsily climb back up to bite his finger, Mister Long found it rather amusing. =w=

In fact, he has long been unable to bear seeing his wife spoil this chubby chirp. Mengmeng had good roots and already showed some abilities despite being a fledging. However, it lacked physical activity and had a soft and clingy nature. It would just chirp and act pampered all day, competing with him for attention. How truly annoying.

Mister Long lowered his eyelids slightly. His slender fingers deftly dodged wave after wave of Mengmeng’s attacks. Annoyed, the fat chirp took advantage of its weight and suddenly pounced on his finger, stubbornly clinging to it and pecking at his fingertip with its light-yellow beak.

“…” Mister Long narrowed his eyes and let it be. He then rotated his wrist, causing Mengmeng to tumble and roll over.

“Chirp…” Mengmeng felt so wronged and was on the verge of tears.

Why does this big bad dragon always bully me when Wanwan wasn’t at home? Mengmeng can’t take it anymore!!

A fleeting smile appeared on Mister Long’s lips as he watched Mengmeng turn its butt to face him. His dark black eyes glanced outside the window seemingly casually as he suppressed a somewhat expectant heart.

It was still early.

It hasn’t been all. All he had to do was to watch over the spiritual plants she had planted with her own hands.

On the windowsill, the last Condensed Snow flower bud quietly stretched out its tender leaves. The room was tidy, and everything was neatly organized.

Mister Long sat on her chair and waited for a long time.

He waited from dawn until the dark clouds closed in, until Mengmeng, no longer angry, tiredly leaned against the back of his hand and fell asleep.

He waited until he saw snowflakes falling outside, floating and drifting, little by little, as if falling upon his heart——

She had left in a hurry today and did not bring an umbrella with her.

“Is it cold?” A cold voice suddenly rang out, yet it was like melting snow, with an ambiguous meaning.

Mengmeng, half-asleep, rubbed against his hand and let out a soft chirp, as if saying, “Mengmeng isn’t cold.”

A burst of low and hoarse laughter filled the room, but it quickly dissipated.