The Dragon Keeper - Chapter 4

4

Dong Rao recovered completely.

Her mother, distressed by her illness, sent her to a hot-spring estate in the mountains with some girls she knew.

Since it was an outing for young ladies, Gengchen could not conveniently stay. He escorted her to the estate, then went back down the mountain.

In the morning, the girls picked fruit in the woods, sweet and tart and bursting with juice. That afternoon, they visited the estate’s little deer, which bounded over for the grass they offered and licked their hands afterward.

After supper, they soaked in the hot springs. Trailing their fingers through flower petals on the water, they chattered about recent events. A new resident, the charitable Master Liu, was giving out porridge and medicine and had become very popular. Someone had supposedly seen a ghost on the other side of the mountain, so the grown-ups would not let them go there.

Yet once they returned to their rooms and everything grew quiet, Dong Rao could not sleep.

She pushed open the window. A cool night breeze swept in, carrying the scent of mountain woods.

One of the estate’s rabbits had just had a litter, all little fluffy snowballs. Dong Rao had found them so adorable that she had taken one to hold. Now she leaned by the window, stroking it absentmindedly.

Some of her friends had said they might not be able to come out and play anymore. They were old enough for marriage negotiations, and their families were already looking for matches.

She did not understand what was so good about getting married.

Her mother, for instance, had supposedly been quite a formidable wandering swordswoman. After marrying, she had stayed home to help her husband and raise their children. Her father was very good to her, but what was interesting about staying home?

Out there were endless mountains and roaring rivers, vast veils of misty rain and plunging waterfalls. Roadside inns and lonely temples. Heroes and wandering swordsmen.

“Gengchen has it so good…” Dong Rao murmured without thinking.

He could go wherever he wanted. She could not even go to the other side of the mountain.

But Gengchen was going to become a god.

He had already stayed beside her for thirteen years.

Once he went to heaven, would she have to marry someone she did not know and spend the rest of her life in some great walled house?

As her thoughts wandered, the rabbit grew tired of being petted and leaped out the window.

She hurried outside to find it. The little thing was fast. She was bending to inspect the flower beds when a white bundle appeared before her.

She looked up. Gengchen stood there with the rabbit in his hands.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in surprise.

“You called me.” His face was as expressionless as ever.

“No, I didn’t.” She pressed the scale hanging against her chest and tipped her head, thinking.

“I heard you.” He put the rabbit into her arms, entirely serious.

She hastily caught it.

He watched her for a while, his brows drawing together slightly. “You’re unhappy?”

“No.”

“You’re unhappy,” he repeated, certain this time.

“I’m not unhappy.” She shook her head and raised her fingers to count off the day’s activities.

“Today I ate fruit, petted deer, and soaked in the hot springs—”

“Why are you unhappy?”

His frown deepened. Alongside his confusion came an irritation and restlessness he could not understand.

He stepped closer, studying her from very near. Black eddies shifted in his golden eyes.

Dong Rao did not feel the pressure spreading from him. The rabbit did. It wriggled free and bounded away.

She let it go. Tilting her face up, she closed her eyes, loose strands of hair lifting beside her cheeks.

Then she asked a seemingly unrelated question.

“Gengchen, can you feel it? The wind from the other side of the mountain?”

She could not really explain.

Her life had gone smoothly, and yet thinking of what lay ahead made her lonely.

If she could not understand it herself, how could Gengchen?

She gave a small laugh. “Don’t worry about—”

Before she could finish, he nodded to himself, walked past her into the room, and found a cloak with practiced ease.

She was still bewildered when he shook it out and wrapped her from head to foot. Bowing his head, he very carefully tied the ribbons at her throat.

Then white light flashed, and an enormous black dragon appeared.

He was black as night from head to tail, his scales gleaming silver-white. Sharp angles and flowing lines somehow came together in perfect harmony. His eyes were pure golden amber around dark, slit-shaped pupils.

My dragon must be the most beautiful, most magnificent dragon in the world, Dong Rao thought dreamily.

And her dragon curved his body and lowered his proud head to her.

She did not understand.

So he simply nudged her onto his back.

She clutched his head in alarm. Before she could ask a question, he pushed off and shot into the sky.

A startled cry caught in her throat. When she came to her senses, they were high in the boundless night.

He flew high and steadily. Within a pale golden barrier, only a gentle breeze brushed the girl’s cheeks.

Her fear gradually vanished. She spread her arms, eyes shining, her smile bright and unrestrained.

The black dragon could not see her face, but he seemed to feel her excited breathing and heartbeat. And suddenly, scenery he had seen a thousand times became tender and full of affection.

He carried her over towers, cities, and mountain ranges. They saw the low-hanging moon and stars, the endless lights of human settlements, and the lush green world on the far side of the mountain.

Before dawn, Gengchen brought her back to the estate. He even caught the runaway rabbit, put out her candle, and closed the window.

Only when her breathing steadied did the boy’s tall figure disappear into the morning mist.

Inside the room, Dong Rao opened her eyes.

She pressed a hand over her heart, and over the scale resting there.

It was warm, as if steeped in hot-spring water, as if filled with soft cotton.

She could not keep the corners of her mouth from lifting.

Eating new sweets made her happy. Playing with her friends made her happy.

But this was different.

They had lived together for thirteen years. He understood her, just as no one understood him better than she did. Her happiness and sorrow, her hopes and frustrations—all of them had found a home.

She wanted to stay with him forever.

But she dared not say it.

In the end, he would become a god.