Dragon Boat Secret Realm 19: Giant Fish

**Dragon Boat Secret Realm 1**

With Tian Ning’s presence, no one dared speak up. In their group, late Qi Refining was already impressive; Tian Ning’s late Foundation Establishment outclassed them by an entire realm.

The geniuses who pushed hard were terrifying.

Red Sun Sect’s members sweated in the chill, white mist rising from their heads, but they gritted their teeth, not daring to shiver. Their leader, the senior brother who’d bought Li Jian, forced a smile. “No issue at all—just a misunderstanding. We’ll head back now.”

With such a backer, Su Qing felt emboldened, standing tall beside Tian Ning. “Any objections? If this debate isn’t over, we can restart.”

Tian Ning’s gaze swept them coldly. “Debate me instead?”

“No, no!” The senior brother shook his head, his smile more pained than a grimace. “It was our mistake—we’ll seal the mines. From now on, Sword Sect leads; we won’t act on our own.”

His face-change was masterful, drawing boos from the crowd.

“Spineless—figures they’d resort to tricks. With this, Red Sun Sect’s reputation is ruined outside the secret realm.”

Red Sun’s group looked awkward but forced brighter smiles under Tian Ning’s glare.

“I understand,” Su Qing said, scanning the others, especially Red Sun’s allies. “And the rest of you?”

A clever one shouted first, “We follow Sword Sect’s lead—align with them!”

The crowd echoed, “Sword Sect’s way!”

Tian Ning’s mere glance, laced with impatience, made their voices more fervent, soon chanting in unison, “Align with Sword Sect!”

Before absolute power, pride and dignity meant nothing. To avoid a beating, looting, and feeding to the fish, better to bow early.

Sword Sect, bound by shared honor, swelled with pride. Even the usually sullen Chen Mu couldn’t complain, shrinking to avoid backlash.

Su Qing exhaled inwardly. She hadn’t been fully confident against Li Jian, but with victory and Tian Ning’s arrival, everything aligned perfectly, bolstering her.

The group fight was over. Next steps, she’d discuss with Tian Ning.

Back at the shelter, Tian Ning followed Su Qing. She’d built it spacious for potential roommates, simple yet cozy.

Tian Ning, undemanding and quality-averse, found it fine and moved in. They’d shared a dorm for three years—habits formed.

As Su Qing applied Chen Minjing’s herbal paste, she briefed Tian Ning on Dragon Scale Island’s anomalies—from spirit liquid to parasites to the underground sounds hinting at the island’s possible life.

Tian Ning frowned. “When seeking Ice Jade White Fruit in the northern archipelago, I rested on a small island. Waking, it had drifted ten li. I realized it wasn’t an island but a sea turtle’s shell.”

She spoke plainly, but Su Qing knew Tian Ning, a cultivation fanatic, wouldn’t sleep through ten li of drift unless gravely injured and healing.

“Perhaps this island lives,” Tian Ning said. “But Dragon Scale Island is far larger than a turtle.”

Su Qing shivered. If the land beneath them was a creature’s back, how massive must it be?

If so, what was the spirit liquid?

Its blood?

That rumble during mining—its heartbeat?

The louder sounds near veins explained the liquid’s flow—only there could it gush endlessly.

If true, Su Qing dreaded the island awakening.
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Tian Ning added, “One way to confirm danger: has the Daozi arrived?”

Su Qing replied, “No. Not him—nor Shen Liuye.”

Ji Xingjian from Hefeng Sect hadn’t either, likely still en route from Daylight Island, too far to return promptly. She’d set that aside.

Tian Ning’s face chilled. “The Daozi never risks danger. He chooses the safest path.”

This touched on Qi family secrets Tian Ning couldn’t share directly, so she gave a rule.

Su Qing smirked. “So, we can predict from him. One of his few uses.”

Tian Ning, hating the Qi family, nodded solemnly. “You’re right.”

Su Qing mused, “Then the island might be dangerous. But with the trial here, getting everyone to leave won’t be easy like sealing mines. Yanyi and Hefeng would resist. Without evidence, just speculation, I’d have to visit each sect. They’ll decide for themselves.”

“I’ll go,” Tian Ning said.
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“I’ll join you,” Su Qing added.

“Alone,” Tian Ning said, shaking her head, handing Su Qing a storage bag.

Su Qing probed it with divine sense—plenty inside. “What’s this?”

“Souvenirs.”

Tian Ning rose, sword on back, heading out. At the door, she paused, frowning. “What should I say?”

She realized this required words—a weakness.

Su Qing thought. “With your sword, say whatever.”

…

Tian Ning gone, Su Qing examined the bag, glimpsing two years of her friend’s journey.

Deepest was a sheet of flame-fin shark skin, the whole family: deep blue base, pearl-like sheen, vivid red fins. Beautiful and tough, ideal for talismans or artifacts.

Next, first-tier high-grade and second-tier low-grade spirit plants, mostly wood-attributed, thick leaves and deep roots, thriving in cold lands. Frost-white Star Grass had little medicinal value but an enduring scent, perfect for sachets.

Then, translucent jade stones, frosty white snow ore, odd ugly roadside flowers, and a third-tier golden-edged snow gull feather, exquisite in white and gold.

Among them, the rarest was the Ice Jade White Fruit’s companion, Fragrant Cold Fruit. Per *Herbal Compendium*, they shared habitats, often appearing together. Tian Ning must’ve gathered it alongside the fruit.

Thinking of Tian Ning collecting trinkets en route, Su Qing’s heart softened.

Through these, she saw Tian Ning’s world.

Smiling, Su Qing shook her head, starting treatment. Her wounds were three types: lightning burns, qi depletion, and muscle strains.

But good news: the lightning loosened her solid fourth-layer foundation, nudging toward fifth-layer. With the trial near, she didn’t suppress it, prioritizing breakthrough.

She ate Tian Ning’s Fragrant Cold Fruit. At the tongue, it was fragrant, melting into sweet, wood qi-rich juice that condensed into three spiritual liquid drops in her dantian.

Instantly, bone-chilling cold spread through her meridians, freezing her qi like hoarfrost.

Su Qing shivered, exhaling white mist. Too cold—her organs felt encased in ice. Though wood-attributed, the fruit carried chill. Another century, and it might turn to ice qi.

To counter, she tore a Nine Heavens Spirit Grass leaf, swallowing it. The fire-wood qi burst like a fireball, scorching her throat. The pure, burning energy coursed through, clashing with the cold, neutralizing it.

The warm qi cycled three hundred major meridians, fully absorbed. The speed shocked her—nearly double her previous rate. No wonder gifted cultivators advanced so fast—their qi conversion was superior.

Thanks to the Golden Silk Wood, she’d edged into gifted territory.

With her dantian refilled, wounds healed swiftly. A week later, charred skin flaked off like scales, revealing smooth, tougher flesh. Even a sharp dagger left no mark.

Body refining: injuries made her stronger.

Tian Ning returned after touring sects. Whatever she said silenced them—no more noise, mines sealed. Some left, but most stayed for the trial.

Su Qing and Tian Ning visited Medicine King Valley’s injured. With ice roots, the parasites froze solid, immobile. Healers then extracted them fully.

The victims’ roots were damaged, but they lived—a blessing.

Seeing the parasites, the crowd paled, legs buckling, stomachs churning.

It was a mutated fish leech, root-like with numerous tentacles, typically attaching to fish hosts to feed on blood.
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A pure parasite, it lived neither on land nor underground, only with hosts.

These had emerged from the mines.

With the leeches as proof, the spirit liquid’s nature was clear.

Dragon Scale Island was a colossal fish. The leeches on its skin barely registered, and cultivators mining its veins went unnoticed, like ants or mosquitoes.

Its cultivation must be profound.

Would it awaken?

What then?

Danger?

…

No answers. But many voted with feet, abandoning shelters that night.

Su Qing and Tian Ning stayed, agreeing: if danger arose, they’d teleport to the seabed prison.

Three months later, no trial news, but Su Qing broke through to fifth-layer Qi Refining.

Then, Tang Shitao, Tang Qimei, and Tang Xueshan arrived—not alone, but with dire news: Tang Yueling was missing.

They entered the secret realm and headed east for flame pearls.

En route, they were attacked by a sharkman tribe—ugly, not the beautiful legends, craving raw hearts and livers, turning Tang Yueling’s stomach.

Though grotesque, the sharkmen were formidable, each at early Foundation Establishment. Without the Tang elders’ high-tier defensive artifacts, they’d have perished.

After great hardship, they secured the flame pearl and escaped. Tang Yueling broke through to Foundation Establishment first-layer.

With over half the three-year secret realm passed, they rushed to Dragon Scale Island for the trial.

Everything seemed fine, until three days ago, Tang Yueling vanished.

No message, no clues—like evaporating.

Tang Yueling, though proud, wasn’t aloof like typical noble heirs. She treated her companions warmly, never acting superior.

She wouldn’t storm off in a huff; she was likely forced.

The Tang sisters used tracking artifacts, scouring the island, digging inches deep. Nothing.

Desperate, they sought Tian Ning and Su Qing’s help.

Though their bond with Su Qing and Tian Ning wasn’t deep, Tang Yueling’s life mattered more than past frictions. They discussed her disappearance.

Tang Yueling, from a wealthy background, lived luxuriously, never skimping. In Sword Sect, sect rules forced shared dorms; otherwise, she’d have used a spatial artifact for private comfort.

For the trial, the four Tang sisters shared one. The fourth-tier artifact was vast, divided into independent courtyards.

It detected intruders or movements. But Tang Yueling vanished without trace. Later, they found her chamber’s space gone.

She’d disappeared with her space.

Su Qing linked it to the seabed prison’s escapee. Jiang Xiaocao said it had spatial abilities.

Tang Shitao decided, “We can’t wait. We’ll use our bloodline secret technique to locate Yueling. Please help.”

The bloodline technique relied on blood ties. Sharing the Tang surname bound them.

Even if not direct sisters, they shared ancestry.

It could find Tang Yueling if she remained in the secret realm.

Tang Xueshan explained, “The family sent us as companions for this reason. With us here, Yueling shouldn’t face peril.”

Su Qing noticed Tian Ning’s disgusted frown.

The technique required heart blood, taxing the caster—rarely used lightly.

The Tang sisters insisted they couldn’t wait.

They refused another Guan family fate. After Guan Jiayu’s death, his three accompanying Guan side-branch disciples were recalled to build his tomb. Upon completion, they’d be drained of spiritual energy to guard it until mortal death.

Facing that, they couldn’t sit idle, enacting the bloodline technique that night.

Under the moon, Tang Shitao drew a gleaming curved blade, eyes closed, teeth gritted, stabbing her chest. Blood dripped into a white porcelain bowl.

Tang Qimei and Tang Xueshan formed seals, chanting. Golden runes rose from the bowl, and the red drops formed a thin line, snaking into the distance.

Tang Shitao, forgoing a healing pill, followed the line. “That’s Yueling’s location!”

Su Qing watched it weave through the air, plunging into a sealed mine.

A chill gripped her:
*Is Tang Yueling underground?*