Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Fish Takes the Bait

Yi An could easily discern Ao Guang’s underlying meaning: this was nothing more than discarding the donkey after grinding the millstone. Once Yi An returned victorious, the Ten Thousand Dragons Armor would be handed back, and as for the so-called additional reward, it was empty promises.

But none of that mattered, for Yi An had no intention of returning. Now, everything was prepared; all that remained was the east wind to set the plan in motion.

Ao Guang had taken the bait. Yi An’s scheme was already half a success.

He knew when to stop, for pressing further would likely provoke Ao Guang’s wrath. Therefore, once he had secured the Ten Thousand Dragons Armor, he agreed without hesitation.

With Yi An’s confirmation, the Four Seas Dragon Kings immediately departed to make arrangements for their younger kin, preparing them for entry into the Ancestral Land. This time, there was neither fanfare nor ceremony; the legacy of the Ancestral Dragon was too vital to risk even the slightest mishap.

Ao Xiuxiu was entrusted with the task of accompanying Yi An, a role she accepted with delight.

“Brother Yi,” she explained with gentle earnestness, “the Ancestral Land is suffused with sinister, corrosive energy. A moment’s carelessness can lead to dire consequences. Within, you must focus your mind and remain calm; do not let your attention wander. If your mind becomes clouded, it will be perilous. Even my father cannot make exceptions—each dragon may enter the Ancestral Land only once in their lifetime to receive the baptism of bloodline. Though you are human, within the Ancestral Land, aside from being unable to undergo the bloodline ascension as the dragons do, there are no other restrictions. Still, your opportunity is singular. The Ancestral Land opens for three days; most of the first day has already slipped away. You have very little time left.”

Ao Xiuxiu spared nothing, sharing all she knew about the Ancestral Land and its dangers.

It was the first time in her life she had cared so deeply for a man.

At first, her interest in Yi An was due to external circumstances, but as she got to know him, she discovered his erudition and gentle disposition—he was the finest companion one could hope for.

Compared to the boorish “talents” of the dragon clan, Yi An shone all the brighter.

“Thank you, Miss Ao, for your guidance. I will be cautious,” Yi An replied solemnly, nodding. The Ancestral Land was piled high with the bones of countless generations of dragons; the sinister energy Ao Xiuxiu described was likely formed from accumulated grievances.

Ao Xiuxiu and Yi An chatted intermittently, mostly about Yi An’s experiences among mortals, with Ao Xiuxiu subtly probing his preferences. She never once mentioned Yi An’s marital status, confident she was second to none.

It was not until the Four Seas Dragon Kings reappeared before them that Ao Xiuxiu finally paused, though she still had much left unsaid in her heart.

Originally, Ao Xiuxiu would not have been so eager, but ever since Ao Guang agreed to betroth her to Yi An, she found her feelings shifting unexpectedly. Thoughts long buried surged forth like a tide, unstoppable.

Though she had initially resented her father for treating her as a bargaining chip, she could not object when the chosen person was Yi An.

She was more than willing, with no trace of resistance in her heart.

With preparations complete, the Eastern Sea led the way into the Ancestral Land, followed by the Southern Sea…

Once all the dragon scions had entered, Ao Xiuxiu turned to Yi An and said, “From here on, it’s all up to you.”

Yi An nodded slightly. He already wore the Ten Thousand Dragons Armor; though it appeared weighty, it was unexpectedly light and fit seamlessly, causing no discomfort. More importantly, it was concealed—the armor vanished from sight as soon as Yi An donned it, leaving no outward trace.

This spared him many troubles.

Yi An sighed inwardly. Truly, it was a post-celestial treasure. Though not as powerful as pre-celestial treasures, it was nonetheless rare and invaluable. As Ao Guang had said, even in ancient times, the armor would have caused envy among many.

Post-celestial treasures differ from pre-celestial ones. Yi An had no fear of Ao Guang’s precautions; the moment he donned the armor, it belonged solely to him. Pre-celestial treasures, however, possess their own spirit and intelligence, and that is the chief distinction.

Pre-celestial treasures can be branded with their owner’s soul imprint, making them nearly impossible to claim unless one’s strength far surpasses the original master. Fortunately, Yi An’s Azure Lotus Banner had lost its previous owner, and the soul imprint had dissipated along with them.

Entering the Ancestral Land, Yi An felt some trepidation at the thunderous entrance, but the Ten Thousand Dragons Armor proved its worth; the lightning struck him harmlessly, feeling no more than a gentle tickle.

Once inside, a wave of sinister energy greeted him. Yi An steadied his mind, banished all distractions, and advanced swiftly toward the pre-celestial treasure, guided by the Azure Lotus Banner’s spirit.

Pre-celestial treasures are born of heaven and earth—untouched by mortal, divine, demonic, or spectral hands. Though they possess spirit, it is not the same as sentient wisdom.

Meanwhile, at the entrance, the Four Seas Dragon Kings and Dragon Queen conferred. Ao Xiuxiu had already been sent back; the girl’s heart clouded with infatuation, Ao Guang could only shake his head in exasperation.

“Brother, we’ve instructed our younger kin to keep watch over that human boy in the Ancestral Land, to guard against any mishaps,” Ao Qin said.

“Indeed. The boy is, after all, an outsider. We cannot stake all our hopes upon him. But why did the Ancestral Dragon’s legacy choose a human rather than one of our own?” Ao Shun wondered aloud, his mind filled with questions.

“It may be coincidence, but I doubt there are so many coincidences in this world. I suspect that boy possesses some extraordinary qualities,” Ao Guang replied objectively. He did not dismiss a person solely based on their race; the dragon clan was not inherently superior to others. Those boasts were nothing but self-deception.

The nobility of a race is not declared—it is determined by strength. In ancient times, the dragon clan stood at the pinnacle of the four great races; none dared underestimate them. But in later ages, why did everyone dare trample upon the dragons?