Dragon Boat Secret Realm 33: The Beautiful Dream

Clinging to the dragon’s sleek, elongated body, Su Qing pressed her cheek against its smooth scales to shield herself from the fierce wind pressure, feeling the sacred creature’s trembling breath beneath her.

This was a scene she’d fantasized about as a child.

Now, as it became reality, beyond the indescribable thrill and excitement, she felt a deep sense of confusion and melancholy.

She realized once again that for Qiu Yange, the past held a bitter ending.
@Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

Qiu Yange had placed the inheritance in a mirage, a place reachable only in the rain, born from imagination.

If, as Su Qing and Tian Ning had envisioned, following the peach tree above the fish’s lair led to the outside world, someone who knew a clear path forward wouldn’t pin their hopes on an unreachable illusion.

Su Qing’s thoughts lingered briefly before the dragon carried them into the clouds, diving into the mirage-like illusion.

Her heart jolted as she looked up, momentarily believing she’d returned to Falling Spring Island.

The layout was identical—terrain, climate, everything replicated perfectly.

Tian Ning noticed too, gripping her Xue Jin Sword warily.

The dual-colored dragon circled the island, then dove toward a small house in the fishing village—Xiao’e’s home from the illusion.

It stopped, its five-clawed feet touching down, bowing humbly half a meter above the ground, as if in fear of the house’s occupant.

Su Qing understood—the rest of the journey was theirs alone.

The trio dismounted.

Their mission complete, the dragon merged into a tattered New Year’s painting on the door, becoming a crudely drawn dragon chasing five spirit beads. The yellowed paper depicted a cloud-riding dragon, its brushstrokes simple, almost childish, like something bought at a village market. Only the fire and water beads were colored, marking their return.

Back in this familiar courtyard, Su Qing felt a rare unease.

No gentle Kui-jie to comfort her, no exuberant Xiao’e to grab her hand, proclaiming, “She’s here for me!”

Just a lonely, desolate yard.

They’d come this far; there was no turning back.

Exchanging glances, they prepared to knock.

“We must be polite,” Tang Yue Ling, usually the least courteous, said cautiously. “A Returning Void cultivator might be inside.”

Even if deceased, such a figure’s lingering presence could overpower them.

But the door creaked open on its own, unprompted, swinging inward.

A hoarse voice spoke, “Won’t you come in?”

“We’ll intrude, then,” Tang Yue Ling replied, bowing first. She glared at Su Qing and Tian Ning, hissing, “Hurry, be polite!”

Su Qing and Tian Ning bowed, though, heaven knew, they were the dorm’s most courteous. They weren’t slighting Wu Jing True Immortal—it was just jarring. Xiao’e, their recent comrade, was now a cold, majestic master.

The voice inside remained neutral, unbothered by their actions.

Su Qing took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Crossing the threshold, a breeze swept through, blurring Tian Ning and Tang Yue Ling’s figures behind an invisible barrier. They each entered a separate space.

The path ahead was theirs to face alone.

Trusting her friends, Su Qing cautiously surveyed her surroundings.

It was an ordinary carpenter’s workshop, much like Xiao’e’s room.

The scent of wood filled the air.

Dim yellow light filtered through a small window, illuminating scattered tools—saws, axes, planes—beside an unfinished craft. A chipped oil lamp sat on the table’s edge, its solidified oil coated in thick dust.

It had been untouched for ages.

The walls were covered in detailed charcoal sketches. In the corner stood a hundred-slot treasure cabinet, each holding a dusty artifact. If a dragon bone and five spirit beads could hide in a crude painting, who knew these objects’ true nature?

Her intuition screamed: everything here was extraordinary.

The hoarse voice spoke again, “As a reward for passing the Dragon Boat trial, you may choose one item.”

“Anything?” Su Qing asked.

“Of course.”

“May I examine them closely?”

“Be my guest.”

With permission, Su Qing studied the cabinet’s artifacts. As she approached, translucent text appeared above each, like a game interface.

Had Xiao’e designed this too?

She read the descriptions.

The first artifact was an unremarkable hourglass, its tier beyond her ability to gauge. Its description promised chaos outside—it controlled time, speeding or rewinding three days, stacking their outcomes.

In critical battles, it could dominate, reversing situations or enabling preemptive strategies.

Su Qing’s heart raced. She clutched her chest, moving to the next slot.

A mirror, the Thousand-Mile Mirror, a storage artifact. It captured anything reflected—living, dead, human, beast, ghost, even bonded items—defying reason. Its space-time array froze time inside, preserving contents.

Su Qing swallowed hard. She needed a storage artifact like this.

The third was a plain clay pot filled with soil, called Breath Soil. It accelerated spirit plant growth tenfold, and the pot held hundreds of acres of spiritual fields—a cultivator’s dream.

…

After reviewing dozens of slots, Su Qing’s awe turned to numbness.

Too many treasures overwhelmed her.

The voice didn’t rush her, letting her take her time.

“Chosen yet?”

Su Qing shook her head, pausing. Carefully, she asked, “May I see you?”

A breeze swept through, flipping pages on the table and rustling wall sketches.

Wu Jing True Immortal’s voice replied, “Very well.”

The chipped oil lamp sparked, its wick igniting, casting a figure in the light.

Who’d have thought this humble lamp was a rare soul-revealing artifact?

Qiu Yange emerged.

Not of this era, her legend shone in Xiaoyao Immortal’s time. Centuries later, only a frail soul remained.

Su Qing expected a weathered cultivator or a frail elder.

Instead, Qiu Yange appeared as a young girl, with Xiao’e’s face and Zhang Wenhui’s fiery eyes.

Her hair was a wild mess, untamed without someone to braid it.

She’d grown up alone, strong, forging a legend through talent and effort.

Yet, nearing death, her greatest regret was wishing for a different start, a better ending.

Su Qing softly called, “Xiao’e.”

Xiao’e gazed back, emotionless.

“These aren’t what I want,” Su Qing said. “I want to know the original ending.”

…

“As a reward for passing the Dragon Boat trial, you may choose one item.”

Tang Yue Ling declined. “My friends passed the trial. I was just along for the ride.”

The voice asked, “Didn’t Sword Sect tell you?”

“What?” Tang Yue Ling frowned, sensing missed information.

“The main quest was to find clues to the seventh-tier Dragon Boat and help it return. You did that,” the voice explained patiently. “Your friends cleared the Falling Spring Island illusion—a hidden quest.”

Tang Yue Ling, half-confused, felt this echoed Su Qing’s cryptic talks.

Puzzled, she said, “Wasn’t the goal to gather the five spirit beads and summon the boat? I didn’t find any beads or summon it—how did I pass?”

She’d been stuck in the fish’s stomach for two months.

The boat being there was pure coincidence!

“Gathering the beads was the first trial’s quest,” Wu Jing True Immortal replied. “Fixed quests lead to path dependency, unfair to early explorers and dull. Each trial’s main quest changes for variety and challenge.”

Seeing Tang Yue Ling’s confusion, the voice added, “These are Xiaoyao Immortal’s words. I agree with some of her ideas, but she said this.”

What a mess.

Tang Yue Ling didn’t fully grasp it but understood she’d passed, at the cost of ten emptied storage bags.

The reward was hers rightfully.

She turned, raising a blood bead from the fish’s stomach, used to guide her there.

When Su Qing and Tian Ning were unconscious, she’d tearfully stored it.

Guan Jiayu’s incident warned not just Tang Shitao but her too. Her life wasn’t just hers; her safety affected others.

Despite her caution, this disaster forced Shitao to shed heart-blood to find her.

“Your treasures are priceless, but I have a request,” Tang Yue Ling said, eyes glistening. “Trapped in the fish, my sisters worried, using a blood technique to find me.”

“It’s a vicious method, damaging their foundations. I ask for medicine to heal her.”

She’d gained little in the realm, losing many artifacts. Healing elixirs were common, but foundation-repair ones were rare.

Her family likely had them, but they might not use them on Shitao.

If Shitao’s injury wasn’t healed before leaving, hiding Tang Yue Ling’s disappearance, her family might punish Shitao, Xueshan, and Qimei further.

As sisters, Tang Yue Ling couldn’t allow that.

Her pride hid her family’s constraints. As the Tang family’s young miss, she was free outside but bound by elders, patriarchs, and rules within.

She didn’t want Su Qing or Tian Ning to know her vulnerability. With the reward, she chose medicine over treasures.

Wu Jing True Immortal agreed. “Very well.”

Tang Yue Ling exhaled in relief.

…

“As a reward for passing the Dragon Boat trial, you may choose one item.”

Tian Ning decided instantly. “I want the Cold Core Ice Soul Stone.”

Rich in ice spirit energy, ten times stronger than Ice Jade Fruit, it converted water energy to ice, perfect for her cultivation.

Though less dazzling than other artifacts, it suited her best.

She knew only what she consumed was truly hers. Other treasures she couldn’t protect, but this stone she could absorb.

“Very well.”

The icy stone floated to her hand.

Its chill invaded her spirit veins, making even her ice spirit root shiver.

But this was what she wanted.

Holding it, she stood silently, thinking.

The voice didn’t press her, as if she were invisible.

This gave Tian Ning time to form her words. She looked up, asking earnestly, “The Chen family miss in the illusion—did she ever eat enough?”

Those brief days stirred vague memories of her own hungry childhood.

Those were tough times, blurred in recollection.

Wu Jing True Immortal paused, then said, “She starved to death.”

…

“Two years after Kui-jie was sent as a Flower God, the Chen family miss resisted fiercely. Lord Chen forced her to fast. She didn’t survive,” Wu Jing True Immortal recounted.

“After her death, my father, a renowned Falling Spring Island carpenter, was summoned to craft her coffin and burial items. A crafting issue stumped the artisans, so he brought me to the Chen Manor.”

“There, I pieced together the Flower God ritual’s truth through a peach blossom portrait, uncovering the fish demon’s identity and connecting with Zhang Wenhui.”

“The third year, another Flower God selection came. I and the village girl you played were chosen as sacrifices. Zhang Wenhui and I went for revenge, but the fish demon, strengthened by the paper god’s willpower from the prior ritual, was too powerful, even with new peach wood.”

“Zhang Wenhui died in the fish’s lair. My strong foundation spared me, kept as reserve food.”

Xiao’e spoke emotionlessly, like a machine. Her lingering soul, driven by obsession, lacked human feelings.

“At the next Flower God ritual, the fish had fully matured, demanding all the island’s youths.”

“The islanders resisted, planning to kill it, but it was too late. It swallowed Falling Spring Island whole. With some cultivation, I escaped.”

A lone rogue cultivator, Qiu Yange’s path was fraught with hardship. Yet not entirely solitary—she met another struggling rogue, later the famed Xiaoyao Immortal. Their bond was so strong that Qiu Yange entrusted her legacy to Sword Sect’s secret realm.

Years later, with enough power for revenge, the fish demon had become the sea’s overlord, empowered by the dragon bone.

She killed an overlord.

Extracting its bone and scattering its soul, Qiu Yange regretted its quick death—too easy, too happy.

It didn’t match a fraction of her pain.

It still bled, but her eyes had long dried.

She sealed its remaining soul fragment in the realm’s seabed execution grounds, bound by spirit-sealing pillars and lashed by Lock God Chains.

Its escape a century ago was her design—granting hope, then crushing it. Even if trial disciples failed, she’d kill it again.

It would never die, eternally suffering, mirroring her heart’s pain.

Xiaoyao Immortal saw her unhealable wound. “Try again, Tian Ge. Let yourself go.”

Qiu Yange replied, “I can’t forgive this ending.”

Xiaoyao Immortal said, “Countless will come to the realm. Someone will give you a satisfying ending.”
@Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

“If no one does?”

“Trust me,” Xiaoyao Immortal insisted. “Wait, and someone will.”

She was never wrong.

Now, Qiu Yange had her satisfying ending.

In a shore unreachable by the living, her best friend, her sister, Wenhui, and all she cared for awaited.

She could finally go to them, content.

“I love this ending,” Qiu Yange said. “So I’ll give you something.”

“It’s not a great treasure, but Xiaoyao Immortal and I agreed: if a Sword Sect disciple gave me a satisfying answer, I’d pass it on.”

The soul-revealing lamp fell, its oil spent, revealing a small white jade fragment.

This had kept her soul tethered.

The jade floated to Su Qing, light yet heavy, weighing on her heart.

As Qiu Yange’s figure faded, her final obsession dissolved. She closed her eyes, entering an eternal sleep.

In that unending slumber, she dreamed a beautiful dream.

In it, everyone was there. Kui-jie waved, scolding, “Xiao’e, your braid’s a mess again! I tied it for you—sit, let me fix it.”

“You, always so reckless. When will you grow up?”