Sixty-three Dragons (1)


    Mister Long waited quietly for his wife toe back. Mengmeng leaned on one of his hands, giving a furry and ticklish sensation.


    Outside, snow was falling heavily. The courtyard was very quiet, but it wasnt like the destion of before. He gently closed his eyes and cast his spiritual consciousness outwards, gradually enveloping the pce that had once been his lonely residence


    In the kitchen, the messy Burning Grass had been neatly arranged and ced together. Various spices and seasonings were neatly arranged in the kitchen cab, and the spiritual rice was stored on the lower shelf in a small bag. The three little chicks cage had been ced in the kitchen, with a heating stone inside. They were huddled together, ying some unknown game.


    Behind the kitchen of the side hall was a piece of unpavednd where the soil had been mostly dug up. There was an iron shovel ced nearby.


    On the corner of the wall, there was a bloodstain left by her carelessness before, which had now turned dark red.


    The long corridor led to the main room, which was filled with her traces and scent.


    The courtyard was quiterge, but it used to be very empty. Now, several nt seedlings had been ced there, mostly under the eaves. There were one or two nts that had gone beyond their boundaries, swaying with the wind, with snowkes falling on their tender shoots.


    Ah, she also had moments of sloppiness.


    A smile shed in his eyes. Mister Long cautiously moved his legs, and the paining from his bones due to the curse made his cheeks pale for a moment.


    He had actually gotten much better these days. The time he spent awake was gradually getting longer, and the fifth fragment of his original core was about to be sessfully connected. However, most of his spiritual energy remained sealed, and using it for flight or to alleviate the pain was too extravagant.


    After all, he still had no way to obtain spirit stones, and his previous umtions had been plundered in that battle.


    He had to rely on his wife for support.


    So, he needed to be frugal.


    Sometime soon, he would try to venture outside and bring back some things.


    Thinking of that persons appearance made Mister Long feel that the pain had alleviated slightly. The tips of his toes touched her slippers, and most of his feet were left bare.


    Mister Longs cheeks burned. His feet were very big, and his wife had forgotten to buy him shoes.


    As he moved, the feathery chirps backrest disappeared. The tiny creature, still snoring softly, toppled onto the table but remained stubbornly asleep, enjoying a deep slumber.


    Mengmeng was still very young and needed long hours of sleep every day.


    Mister Long paid no attention to it. He propped himself up on the table, the faint breeze swaying his light blue robes. His once strong legs felt as if the bones had been broken, and piercing pain shot from his fingertips all the way through his meridians. His muscles stiffened, and any movement caused excruciating pain deep within his bones.


    Although his legs appeared intact, they were already decaying from within.


    Unable to rely on his spiritual power, Mister Long could only move inch by inch with the strength of his arms. He was worse than an ordinary mortal, worse than a cripple.


    Mister Longs knuckles turned white. He finally walked beyond the reach of the table, but there was still a long way to go to the door and the pain had already caused beads of sweat to form on his forehead.


    He turned to the side and caught a glimpse of himself in the copper mirror in front of the wardrobe


    Terrifying curse marks covered his face, resembling flowing ck and red blood. They crisscrossed densely, starting from his temples and disappearing beneath his cor. The long hair at his temples clung wetly to his face, creating a stark contrast with the pale areas untouched by the curse marks. His lips were bluish-purple, his forehead bore grotesque broken horns, and his appearance was hideous, resembling a monster.


    Mister Longs pupils contracted. He knew that he was now very ugly, but he had never seen his current self with his own eyes.


    He couldnt fathom how he had the confidence to think that his wife had any other feelings for him.


    After all, in her eyes, he had always been this way.


    It wasnt a self-deceptive appearance, but a scar-covered, disabled, and unattractive dragon.


    A profound emotion welled up in his eyes, and Mister Long suddenly felt disgusted with himself


    She took care of him wholeheartedly, not disgusted by his ugliness or bothered by the trouble he was. Yet he, relying on her kindness andck of defences, attempted to get closer and be more intimate with her every day.


    He


    He had wanted to drag her down to hell with him.


    As Mister Long looked at the somewhat distorted reflection in the bronze mirror, darkness welled up in his heart, and a broken gasp escaped his throat.


    He didnt haveplete certainty that he could protect her fully.


    But still, he felt a greedy, despicable, selfish, and overbearing desire to be with her.


    The desire to possess her was stronger than any other longing he had ever known.


    His palms were drenched in cold sweat, and a sudden surge of pain emanated from the cursed area in his bent leg. The suppressed curse seized the opportunity to intrude, attempting to disrupt the impending connection of the fifth fragment of his original core. His spiritual consciousness blurred for a moment, and concealed beneath his long robe, his legs transformed into a dragon tail. The scales rapidly turned withered and yellow, tearing through his trousers.


    Mister Longs longshes trembled in pain, and blood slowly trickled from the corner of his lips.


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