Snakes are cold-blooded, patient creatures that lurk in the shadows, waiting to strike their prey with a fatal blow before coiling their soft bodies around them.
Snakes are dangerous—venomous and capable of harming people. Most people fear them deep in their hearts. Shuanglian was no exception. Her legs went weak, and she could barely stand.
A hand gripped her waist, steadying Shuanglian as she stood. The water rippled around them. Snakes were truly sinister—how could such terrifying creatures exist in this world? Frightened, she clamped her legs together, trapping the snake, and cried out for Nezha to help.
"Wuu… Nezha, Third Prince… save me, save me!"
Sobbing, Shuanglian couldn't wake from the dream, sniffling and weeping, hoping Nezha would come to her rescue soon.
She truly was pitiful—alone in a strange world, and the only person she knew, Nezha, was supposed to be her protector, yet his temperament was unpredictable. Whether in a good mood or bad, he always found ways to bully her.
Like right now—she was crying so pitifully, but Nezha probably wasn't coming. He was likely somewhere watching the show.
She sobbed and shivered, her hands slapping at the water's surface, splashing droplets onto her own face.
Shuanglian finally opened her eyes, only to meet Nezha's gaze directly. She was completely naked, water dripping from her cheeks, even the tip of her nose damp.
Shuanglian thought the water on her face was from her own splashing in the dream. Feeling guilty, she quickly lowered her head.
Nezha didn't move at first, then said, "Shuanglian, you were drooling in your sleep."
Those words startled Shuanglian. She wiped at the corners of her mouth with the back of her hand. Nothing there.
Nezha spoke again, twitching his fingers slightly, striking first: "Nervous, are we? You actually dared to clamp down on my fingers."
The Little Clam Spirit froze on the spot, released her legs, and backed away to the wall of the bath. After about half a minute, her lips curved downward, and a sob escaped her.
Wuu…
Mom, Dad, Nezha is bullying me!
The Little Clam Spirit's face was streaked with water droplets as she wiped her tears. But she had woken from the dream too early, leaving things half-finished, and her lower back ached terribly.
Ever since this morning, when he'd had his fun, she'd been suffering ever since. She'd endured until now, with the sun already setting, and Shuanglian's discomfort had only grown worse.
She looked at Nezha timidly. He was washing his hands in the water as if nothing had happened, leaning against the pool wall with his eyes closed. He moved closer—half an inch away—and his arm, resting behind him, wrapped around her.
Shameless. Shuanglian felt her face burn with embarrassment.
She reached for the clean clothes on the shore. The moment her fingers touched them, Nezha, who had been resting with his eyes closed, suddenly opened them. Her hand trembled, and the clothes fell into the bath.
Acting as if it had nothing to do with him, Nezha closed his eyes again.
Seeing the clothes drift away, the Clam Spirit walked slowly through the water, reached out to grab the soaked thin garment, and hugged it to her chest as she retreated into a corner.
Behind Nezha, a round jade plate materialized, holding a wine flask. He suddenly spoke to the Clam Spirit in the corner: "I bought some Sanle Wine on West Street today. It's a Persian drink that made its way to Chang'an. Want some?"
Shuanglian was curious. She hesitated for a long time, then slowly approached. Nezha poured the wine for her and kindly handed it over.
Shuanglian soaked in the water, only her shoulders and head visible, fine downy hairs on her face glistening with moisture. Her nose tip was red from crying, and a wicked idea stirred in Nezha's mind.
He poured more Sanle Wine—a full cup to the brim.
Shuanglian took a sip. The Sanle Wine tasted like alcohol, not as fine as Jade Nectar, but it had a rich complexity of flavors—slightly tart on entry, with a sweet aftertaste.
Sanle Wine was alcoholic, and Shuanglian drank too much, her cheeks flushing pink. Nezha's hand didn't stop, continuously refilling her cup.
Nezha said, "Good, isn't it? Finish it all—don't waste this prince's goodwill."
"It's good." Shuanglian hadn't eaten anything today, and she did feel hungry. Unable to refuse the Third Prince's kindness, she clutched the cup and gulped it all down, her eyes growing hazy. "It's good, I finished it… thank you, Third Prince."
Nezha waited until she'd drained every drop, then said, "Sanle Wine has a strong kick."
Shuanglian's body was already sore, and now the alcohol made her feel numb and hot, her stomach swelling like it was filling with water. She sensed something was wrong. Her calves stirred beneath the water, sending ripples across the surface.
Nezha asked, "What's wrong?"
"I need to get out." Shuanglian's fingers unconsciously gripped the stone wall. Her body, tense with anxiety, made the sensation even more intense. But she hadn't forgotten—it was all because Nezha had tossed her around this morning that she'd been suffering all day.
She reached for the soaked clothes, but Nezha's hand pressed against her lower belly. "Drank too much? Let me rub it for you."
"A little." Shuanglian's voice was barely a whisper. All her attention was focused on fighting the pressure building in her bladder. Her feet shuffled restlessly against the bottom of the bath, clearly in terrible discomfort.
Nezha's scorching palm pressed down. The Little Clam Spirit burst into tears in that instant, clamping her legs shut with all her might and shoving him away.
She draped the dripping outer robe haphazardly over herself, the hem of her skirt trailing across the water's surface. Her clothes were too soaked to wear properly, so Shuanglian simply covered herself with the garment, her hands scrambling up the stone wall as her slender legs kicked through the water, struggling desperately to climb out.
Across from the bath stood a screen, with lush green grass beyond it. The Little Clam Spirit stepped onto the grass, wiping her tears, stumbling as she searched for a place to relieve herself.
The residence was newly built, and the rooms were clean. Her bare feet pressed against the bluestone slabs. Shuanglian's lower back ached terribly—somewhat like the feeling from this morning, stuck in between, unbearably uncomfortable.
Why was it like this? It didn't feel at all like the urge to relieve herself from her past life.
What she didn't know was that Shuanglian had consumed too many immortal pills. She was now half-immortal, practicing Bigu fasting, and mortal needs no longer applied to her.
Her usual cravings for food were simply due to her fondness for eating and the pearl-nurturing. Whatever she ate went into her stomach and dissolved away, leaving nothing extra to expel.
So it still wouldn't work now, even with his palm pressed against her lower abdomen.
It would be like this…
Nezha waited behind the screen, idly stirring the water. After a long silence, he called out from a distance, "Shuanglian, are you really angry?"
"Nezha, Third Prince, don't bully me…" She moved reluctantly, every step an agony, the ground beneath her feet slippery. Shuanglian stood trembling.
Nezha: "Alright, alright. Come back, it'll be fine."
"…Third Prince, I'll be right back." Shuanglian's brows furrowed slightly, her voice barely a whisper.
Shuanglian's belly had shown no reaction for a long time. The clothes draped over her were blown by the wind, sticking to her skin, uncomfortable. Trembling on her slender pale legs, she walked behind the screen, poked out half her head, her dark bright eyes brimming with watery light, secretly stealing a glance at Nezha.
Nezha leaned against the pool's edge, upper body bare. His long hair unbound, his handsome features hazy and blurred in the mist.
Nezha was nothing like a snake's coldness—his pupils were crimson, the red at his brow and the corners of his eyes stirring something restless. Soaking in the pool, a faint lotus fragrance drifted to her nose, drawing her forward.
In the morning, the body she held was scorching hot, knowing no restraint. If she embraced another, that person would know their limits, but Nezha would wind his hands and legs around her—hands gripping her waist, legs pressing over hers.
And Nezha had no patience either. If he wanted something, he wouldn't wait like a snake… Nezha would pounce and bite like a tiger or wolf.
Shuanglian touched the teeth marks on her neck, her belly swelling even more.
"Not coming?" Nezha rested one hand on the pool's edge, idly toying with the flower that decorated the sanle brew.
Her fingertips twitched slightly.
Shuanglian recognized those fingers that had caused such mischief earlier.
Nezha's fingers were long and jade-like, beautiful to behold, with thin calluses on his pads. They were always forceful, liking to bend, toy, press at will—with a bit of applied force, crushing the flower's stamens.
Shuanglian's taut nerves loosened, her whole body going soft as noodles, barely able to stand by gripping the edge of the screen.
It was already past midnight, and tomorrow had come. The Dragon King, under the Jade Emperor's command, had brought rain from the heavens. The sound of rain splattered, each drop audible, wetting the lotus flowers painted on the screen.
Nezha listened to the sound of water. His ears were extremely sharp, able to distinguish which of those rain sounds were not rain at all.
The Little Clam Spirit had lost the water that kept her alive, and was already near death.
Shuanglian's hands clung to the screen, shaking beyond measure. Shame and mortification nearly killing her, teeth clenched against teeth, unable to utter a single word.
Behind the screen. Nezha knew she wasn't crying.
His voice was clear and open, deliberately teasing: "Little Clam Spirit, is the sound of your crying really that loud?"
"Don't cry. This prince will make it up to you, alright?"
Today's rain fell lightly, because the Dragon King of Jinghe had defied the Jade Emperor's decree.
Yesterday, the Dragon King of Jinghe had heard that the diviner Yuan Shouchang's predictions were as accurate as the gods', and had specially made a wager with Yuan Shouchang, betting on when heaven would send rain.
Who would have thought Yuan Shouchang would state the Jade Emperor's decree without a single error. Just as he returned to the Dragon Palace, the decree for rain arrived.
To flaunt the Dragon King's authority, he privately altered the timing and amount of rain, violating the Heavenly Laws—his death sentence was approaching. For the sake of a small wager, to lose his life—truly not worth it!
The Dragon King could only go beg Yuan Shouchang to save his life.
Yuan Shouchang's words echoed in his ears: "You have violated the Heavenly Laws and committed a capital offense. Heaven will send the Officer of Records Wei Zheng to behead you. If you wish to live, go beg Emperor Taizong of Tang. Wei Zheng is his loyal minister. If the Son of Heaven intervenes, Wei Zheng will surely agree."
After the Dragon King of Jinghe begged Emperor Taizong, Wei Zheng was summoned into the palace.
Thus, the Dragon King of Jinghe gained a moment's respite, broke free of his restraints, transformed into a dragon, and fled.
The news reached Guanyin Bodhisattva. Muzha stood respectfully in the courtyard, saying, "I have already caused Wei Zheng's soul to leave his body, to slay the Dragon King in a dream. But the Dragon King broke free of his restraints and escaped through a wisp of water vapor. Though Wei Zheng is an Officer of Records executing Heaven's orders, his physical body is mortal—he cannot catch up to the Dragon King." [Note]
Guanyin Bodhisattva looked at the sky and sighed softly.
This scheme had been laid for too long, from the Dragon King to the mortal ruler, every step had to be watertight. Yet she had not anticipated that Emperor Taizong's imperial promise would actually hold Wei Zheng back, wasting so many hours. Nor had she expected the Dragon King to have such means of escape—his audacity greater than the heavens.
Dark clouds gathered over Chang'an. The Dragon King must be slain today. She said to Muzha, "Go fetch the Third Prince Nezha."