Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Old Dragon’s Plan for Creating Offspring

“Hey, brat, what are you staring at? I’m right here.” Just as Mo Bufan was glancing around in confusion, a deep, resonant voice sounded from nearby.

Startled, Mo Bufan turned to see a figure shrouded in a hazy white glow—a man approaching two meters in height, with snow-white hair and robes, and a sharply contoured face set in a look of clear displeasure.

“Greetings, Ancestor Dragon,” Mo Bufan immediately cupped his hands in respectful salute.

The man in white robes curled his lip. “Didn’t expect that after a hundred thousand years, you youngsters would still recognize me.”

Mo Bufan seized the chance to flatter him. “How could we not, Senior? In your day, you were the overlord of the Immortal Realm, your might echoing through the ages. Even if a million years passed, I doubt anyone could forget you.”

The white-robed man curled his lip again, muttering to himself, “After all these years, I still feel good when someone flatters me, heh heh...”

Mo Bufan’s heart was pounding with unease. Never had he imagined that he would encounter the old dragon himself today, much less that the dragon seemed to be waiting specifically for him.

From what he’d overheard before entering, it was clear the Ancestor Dragon was waiting for someone with the Nine Yang Physique. Such a fortuitous trait was the hallmark of a story’s protagonist. Was he truly meant to play that role? It was a daunting thought. Protagonists always bore crushing responsibilities, and his own shoulders hardly seemed up to such burdens.

After the old dragon finished speaking, Mo Bufan glanced furtively around. The Dragon Ancestor’s Immortal Hall gleamed with dazzling splendor. Rare treasures lay everywhere, too numerous to count—especially the “King of Herbs” plants scurrying about the floor.

There was a ginseng with roots trailing behind it like a court lady’s gown, each strand meters long; a lingzhi mushroom nearly half a meter in diameter; two small trees, over two meters tall, hung with fiery red, human-shaped fruits; a tuft of grass that shone with a milky radiance, emanating currents of mystical energy; and a humanoid polygonum multiflorum, busily preening its own leafy branches...

Any one of these treasures would have immortals fighting tooth and nail for it, and there were hundreds here. As for the heaps of gold, silver, and jewels, and the countless divine weapons drifting about, they were simply beyond reckoning.

It was said that dragons were avaricious, hoarding treasures by nature. Seeing this, Mo Bufan realized it was no exaggeration.

But the most dazzling treasure of all lay at the very heart of the immortal hall: a fist-sized pearl radiating with a seven-colored glow. If one looked closely, dragons could be seen swimming within its iridescent depths. Clearly, this was the ancestral Dragon Pearl, the legendary treasure the dragon clan had sought for ages.

What was odd, however, was that next to the pearl lay an orange tabby cat.

An utterly ordinary, fat orange tabby.

At this moment, it was curled up on the dragon throne, lazily asleep.

“What do you know about me?” the Ancestor Dragon suddenly asked.

Mo Bufan froze, racking his brains for everything he’d read about the old dragon. But as memories surfaced, his headache grew. In the cultivation world’s histories, not a single record portrayed the dragon in a good light.

This old dragon valued wealth above all. In ancient days, he’d wiped out several powerful ocean clans in his quest for certain treasures. He was renowned for his licentiousness, scattering his seed everywhere, and had even tried to seduce the wife of the famed War Emperor—though he’d failed and been beaten for his trouble. Still, he shamelessly proclaimed that not winning her heart was the greatest regret of his life.

Reportedly, he was also cold-hearted, having sired nine sons only to abandon them all; even when his own race faced extinction, he didn’t lift a finger...

His only redeeming quality, perhaps, was that when the Demon Clan invaded, he was the first to answer the War Emperor’s call, fighting to the bitter end without retreat.

Mo Bufan hastily replied, “Everyone says that you, Senior, are a man of passionate temperament, unfettered by worldly ties—dashing, free-spirited, and unconstrained. When it comes to matters of great importance, you never hesitate. For the safety of the Immortal Realm and the prosperity of all races, you fought a decisive war against the Demon Clan...”

“Nonsense!” the old dragon snorted. “I’ve never done so many good deeds in my life.”

Mo Bufan shuddered, not daring to say more. Who knew if this eccentric old monster would destroy him on a whim?

“I’ve never done much good,” the old dragon went on. “All that talk about being free-spirited really just means I did whatever I pleased.” As he spoke, his expression grew distant. “Hmph. The trouble I caused back then could fill volumes, and enemies... well, I’ve made them all over the world. But what of it? I was strong—who could do anything to me?”

“Don’t you agree?” He looked at Mo Bufan for a response.

“Ah?” Mo Bufan hesitated, recalling the War Emperor. But with a sheepish grin, he nodded anyway. “You’re absolutely right, Senior.”

The old dragon grinned, then curled his lip again. “Of course, that bastard War Emperor is an exception... Want to know why I risked my life to help him back then?”

Mo Bufan nodded eagerly. Of course, if the old dragon was bringing it up, he clearly wanted to tell the tale.

The old dragon let out a long sigh. “First, I owed him a debt. My power was great, but not so great I could disregard everyone. Once, after I got involved with the princess of the Kunpeng clan, their elders ganged up on me. I was nearly killed, but the War Emperor stepped in and saved me.”

At this point, the old dragon’s face darkened. “But mind you, I never asked for his help, nor did I feel grateful. That bastard just thought I could be useful to all the races, wanted to make use of me. As if I’d let him!”

“He spent days lecturing me, reciting grand ideals. I didn’t listen to a word. Instead, I tried flirting with his wife... heh heh... I even snuck a peek at her bathing...”

“Damn, you’re shameless!” Mo Bufan couldn’t help muttering.

The old dragon shot him a glance, then continued, “The War Emperor finally snapped and fought me. I lost, but I refused to accept it. Seeing him so furious yet helpless made me feel triumphant.”

A glint of satisfaction appeared on his face.

“And after that?” Mo Bufan couldn’t help asking.

“After that...” The old dragon’s face suddenly grew wistful. “He let me go, saying he hoped I’d reconsider his proposal and stop making trouble. Hmph, as if I’d listen to him... I was just tired of my old life, so I took a few disciples and planned to enjoy a quiet retirement.”

Mo Bufan couldn’t help but smile wryly. Clearly, the Dragon Ancestor was a man of great pride—though he had, in truth, heeded the War Emperor’s words.

“But I never expected...” The old dragon’s voice turned heavy. “Never expected everything would happen just as that bastard warned. The Demon Clan invaded, all the races suffered. The Immortal Realm, once the gathering place of the greatest cultivators, saw only the War Emperor and his two closest friends lead their clans into battle. The fighting was brutal...”

“What?” Mo Bufan was shocked. The histories he’d read claimed all of the Immortal Realm had joined the war—how could it have been just one man?

“Seems what you know is different from what I tell you.” The old dragon glanced at him. “Back then, I wanted to laugh at him. As the number one in the Immortal Realm, the eternal emperor, he never stopped preaching, and always put himself on the line for the common good. But in the end, everyone coveted his position, everyone hoped for his death. Only with him gone could other races hope to seize the supreme throne.”

He snorted coldly. “I might be a scoundrel, but I would never allow that.”

“My strength at the time wasn’t the greatest, but no one could beat me. So I made it clear: any race that refused to fight, I’d wipe out first. At first, they didn’t believe me—until I destroyed two clans in three days. Only then did they step up.” He spoke with pride.

Mo Bufan swallowed hard. Truly, the human heart was unfathomable.

But he couldn’t help but wonder—why was the old dragon telling him all this?

“Later, those races still tried to shirk their duty. In the end, they pulled their people out of the Immortal Realm, but their efforts did have some effect, heh...” The old dragon chuckled.

“You acted with great righteousness, Senior!” Mo Bufan said, bowing again.

With a sweep of his sleeve, the old dragon said offhandedly, “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m telling you all this?”

Mo Bufan nodded, but then quickly shook his head. “I wouldn’t presume to guess your intentions, Senior.”

“Enough, you want to know and that’s that.” The old dragon waved him off. “Because that War Emperor never fulfilled his wish, and I need to find someone to take up his mantle.”

Mo Bufan swallowed again. The role of protagonist had well and truly fallen on him.

“He shared your physique!” the old dragon declared. “You possess the body chosen by the Dao itself, capable of reaching the Nine Suns Realm. Only you can inherit his legacy!”

“I... I don’t think I’m up to it...” Mo Bufan stammered like a bashful maiden.

The old dragon merely glanced at him and drawled, “If you can’t, your son will do. Just remember what happened to that bastard—don’t put too much trust in others. Find your own way forward.”

“My son? My own way? Senior, I feel like you’re ignoring my opinion altogether,” Mo Bufan said, a little aggrieved.

The old dragon paid him no mind, instead pointing at Long Ling’er and Zhao Yuan’er, who lay nearby. “Hurry up and pick one. Give me a child while I’m still around. I’ll help you create a Nine Yang Physique stronger than your own.”

Mo Bufan was utterly flabbergasted.