The Beautiful Top Is Always Playing Innocent - Chapter 3

This little bird was miserable.

I crawled beneath the covers to reflect on my behavior, but they were so soft and fragrant that I fell asleep instead.

The instant I entered the dream, mist rose around me and a dragon’s cry echoed through it.

I couldn’t hear clearly, but the sound was intimate, its trailing note curling like a hook. Heat spread through my entire body.

I followed the voice.

Gradually, I heard water and caught a dense, sweet fragrance. The damp earth beneath my feet became undulating scales.

Sight, scent, taste, and touch—all were incarnations of the dragon.

Trapped in the dragon lord’s illusion, I couldn’t move.

“Qing Yan.”

The low, suggestive voice struck me like a blow to the head.

Trembling, I stared at the figure standing with his back to me.

The mist made his already flawless skin seem even more delicate, but powerful muscles shifted beneath that softness.

I ought to have been afraid. Instead, I longed to draw near.

The scales beneath my feet carried me forward.

His features grew clearer: long silver-white hair, brilliant golden slit pupils, and sinewed arms.

In one strong, elegant hand, he clutched a fiery-red tail feather and breathed in its scent.

The sweetness in the air thickened.

I knew this was a dream. I knew the Ancestor could not possibly possess one of my tail feathers. Yet my body burned beyond my control, and I even shared the feather’s sensations—the heat of his breath, the scorching warmth of his palm.

Whether from sweat or mist, my feathers grew sodden.

The dragon’s scent enveloped every inch of me.

I was truly…

going mad.

I closed my eyes and chanted, This is a dream. This is a dream.

Birds might adore beauties, but a dream like this…

Dreaming such things about a beauty was far too disrespectful.

I had already angered him during the day, and now I was having this sort of dream at night.

I refused to become a lecherous bird!

“Wake up! Hurry and wake up!”

The more desperate I became, the more it felt as though a hundred-jin boulder pinned me down. No matter what I did, I could not wake.

And the dragon scales beneath my feet kept pushing me forward, until I collided with that unbearably fragrant body.

I shuddered and opened my eyes in panic, straight into a pair of brilliant golden eyes veiled in moisture.

He called my name languidly. “Qing Yan.”

…

I jolted awake.

But the damp, sticky feeling around me remained. I looked like a bird fished straight out of the water.

One glance and anyone would know I had just done something wicked.

Guiltily, I curled my claws inward, only to feel a sting in my palm. Looking closer, I saw the afterimage of something like a dragon scale flash and vanish.

…

A dragon scale.

The shame from my dream engulfed me again.

How had my dream become so vivid that I was hallucinating afterward?

I plunged headfirst beneath the covers and screamed helplessly.

“Cheep, cheep, cheep!”

The mountain air was chilly at night.

Like a thief destroying evidence, I gripped the merfolk gauze I had dampened in my beak, dragged it laboriously to a stream, and let the current carry it away.

As the gauze disappeared, my shame finally eased.

It was only a dream.

A perfectly… perfectly natural birdly occurrence.

I submerged my entire body in the stream, closed my eyes, and silently recited scripture.

The spiritually rich water washed the stickiness from my feathers, and my mind gradually calmed. I released a long breath.

The meditation art passed down by my ancestors was truly effective. At that moment, I felt my whole birdly being had transcended.

The temptations of the mundane world had nothing to do with me.

I opened my eyes, ready to make a graceful exit.

The instant I did, I went rigid.

Warm mist drifted before me again. Not far away, the Ancestor soaked in the water. His lower half had become a coiled dragon tail, while his bare upper body rested against the bank, beautiful eyes half closed in feigned sleep.

Me: “…”

Forefathers, you deceived me!

What happened to your vaunted meditation art?

Why was I dreaming again?

My feet churned through the water like twin wheels of fire as I swam for my life, terrified the beauty would misunderstand.

But ropes always snapped at their thinnest point, and fate delighted in tormenting lecherous little birds.

Before I made it half a li, the Ancestor lifted me on the tip of his tail and brought me close to his face.

His voice was languid. “What are you doing here?”

“Cheep, cheep, cheep.” I-I-I…

His beauty left me flustered. My feet clutched uncertainly at the tip of his tail, but I remembered the little nub I had squeezed swollen earlier and feared hurting him again.

I loosened my claws and plopped onto his tail instead.

…

The scales were cool.

So cold.

I hissed at the chill, then chirped with awkward politeness, “Cheep. Cheep, cheep, cheep.” Good evening, Ancestor.

“Good evening to you too.” He looked soft and delicate and showed no desire to roast me over charcoal. Instead, he said gently, “You are not of the dragon clan. You needn’t call me Ancestor.”

I cheeped a question: What should I call you, then?

“My name is Cang Li. Call me whatever you please.”

“Cheep?”

Huh?

He understood me?

My eyes lit as I sought confirmation. His smile grew even more indulgent. “I understand.”

Cheep, cheep, cheep!

What a wonderful dragon.

Not only was he kind to the little bird who had offended him, but he understood me and had even told me his name!

I was doomed.

What was I supposed to do now that I liked him even more?

I wanted so badly to dance my courtship dance for him.

But since my rebirth, my tail feathers hadn’t fully grown in. My bare little tail was ugly.

Cheeks puffed, I sprawled dejectedly across Cang Li’s tail and gave a mournful cheep.

He transferred me to his palm. “Are you feeling unwell?”

I nearly sprang up brimming with vigor.

Then it occurred to me: if I were ill, perhaps Cang Li would take me back and nurse me.

Wouldn’t that mean I could cuddle the beauty all day long?

I gave myself an approving thumbs-up.

Think boldly, act boldly—that was how one captured a beauty’s heart.

I rolled onto my back, stuck out my tongue, and began feigning illness. “Dizzy, cheep.”