Since the day Long Wangchu was born, this was his first time setting foot within the territory of a God Kingdom.

It wasn't that the Dragon Sovereign was unable or unwilling; rather, he truly lacked the face to bring this fellow out to make a fool of himself before the various God Kingdoms.

Within the borders of a God Kingdom, there was almost no Abyss Dust. To Long Wangchu, every wisp of aura here felt like soul-soothing celestial dew, making him so cautious that even his breathing became tentative.

Led all the way to the Son of God’s Palace, he witnessed the magnificence of the God Kingdom. His eyes twitched and his throat bobbed almost incessantly. Standing before the palace, as the doors swung open, his eyes bulged uncontrollably, unable to close for a long time.

Those ancient wall carvings, flowing with strange and eerie light, released the aura of several types of exotic Abyssal Crystals¹, most of which he couldn't even identify. Pure Abyssal Crystals, which only high-ranking dragon scions in his clan were qualified to receive, were actually used here as mere paving stones beneath his feet, stretching across his entire field of vision.

Looking upward, heavy silken banners embroidered with the national crest of the Weaver’s Dream God Kingdom hung down or drifted above the high pavilions and palace roofs, the largest being a hundred feet in size. He was all too familiar with the Profound Jade Silk needed to weave these banners...

Because within the Dragon Race, only his clothes as the Young Master were worthy of such a luxurious material.

Long Wangchu’s head instinctively shrank back a fraction, and his palm uncomfortably gripped the sleeve at his side.

Green wood, which was rarely seen even in small patches within the Dragon Race—or even the entire Ancestral Dragon Mountains—surrounded this place in lush emerald, further adorned with various luxurious and exotic flowers. Servants moved among them, every one of them dressed in opulence and possessing an extraordinary temperament.

As the Young Master of the Dragon Race, he undoubtedly enjoyed the best resources of his entire clan. Although he knew of the prosperity of the God Kingdoms, he had never imagined that the gap between the Dragon Race and a God Kingdom—the gap between himself and the Son of God of Weaver’s Dream—was actually so vast.

They were worlds apart, existing on entirely different planes.

Behind him, Long Qianxin stood with a straight back and an unchanging expression, though in truth, he was sighing repeatedly in secret.

"Senior Dragon Attendant, Brother Wangchu, you two distinguished guests have traveled far. It has been a long journey."

A clear voice rang out as Yun Che strode forward, wearing an exceptionally warm smile. Wherever he passed, servants and guards stopped and bowed, welcoming him respectfully. Within that humility was a respect that came from the bottom of their hearts... for as they performed their salutations, there wasn't a hint of trepidation or fear on their faces, only smiles they felt no need to restrain.

Only then did Long Wangchu pull his gaze away from the various heart-shaking and dazzling sights to look at the approaching Yun Che... but this time, the look in his eyes had changed drastically.

Under the overwhelming impact on his perception, he could no longer remember the etiquette Long Zhiming had repeatedly drilled into him. He instinctively took a step forward, bowed deeply at the waist, and raised his hands in salute, his lips pulling back into what was meant to be a smile.

However, he smiled far too hard—so hard that the lines at the corners of his eyes were squeezed into flattering wrinkles. He tried so hard that the face which should have displayed the majesty of the Dragon Race’s Young Master instead presented a lowly state filled with panic and fawning.

"Greetings... to... the Abyssal Son of God."

The corner of Long Qianxin’s eye, who had forced himself to remain calm throughout the journey, twitched violently for a moment.

A dignified Young Master of the Dragon Race, meeting a peer, actually used the word "greetings²." Combined with this "unsightly" appearance, if the Dragon Sovereign were here, he would likely cough up a mouthful of old blood on the spot.

Yun Che seemed slightly taken aback for a moment before his smile returned. "Brother Wangchu is a distinguished guest from afar; you must not perform such a grand salute. Although I am of Weaver’s Dream, I am also half-part of the Dragon Race. I am very happy that Brother Wangchu has graced us with his presence. Please do not be formal; treat this as your own home."

As he spoke, a strand of profound energy gently lifted Long Wangchu's arms.

Long Wangchu naturally realized his own abnormal state. He lowered his hands and hurriedly adjusted his expression, but his back remained slightly hunched, and his face still bore a lowly air that originated from the depths of his heart and could not be hidden. "The Abyssal Son of God is too kind... haha... too kind."

Behind Yun Che, Meng Zhiyuan silently lowered her head, using almost all her willpower to suppress the urge to roll her eyes.

Long Qianxin’s chest heaved, then he stepped forward and gave a slight bow. "Abyssal Son of God, we are truly uneasy about disturbing you like this."

Yun Che smiled and said, "Senior Dragon Attendant, what are you saying? Brother Wangchu’s arrival is actually helping me fulfill my Master’s dying wish; how can you call it a disturbance? Please, Senior and Brother Wangchu, move to the guest hall so I may show some hospitality."

Long Qianxin said, "I appreciate the Abyssal Son of God’s kind intentions. However, I am only here on escort duty. Now that Wangchu is by your side, I should return as soon as possible to report back and put the Dragon Sovereign’s mind at ease."

As he finished speaking, before Yun Che could say anything to urge him to stay, Long Qianxin held out his hands. With a flash of profound light, a massive pale bone casket appeared, containing dozens of various glowing Dragon Race treasures intertwined with an extremely dense dragon aura.

"These are some meager gifts personally prepared by the Dragon Sovereign. Our Dragon Race is poor in resources, and these will likely fail to catch the Abyssal Son of God’s eye. They are merely to express the gratitude of the entire Dragon Race. I hope the Abyssal Son of God will not look down on them."

Yun Che’s gaze swept over them, then he reached out and gently took a piece of soft armor covered in dragon scales. He praised, "The aura is ancient yet still contains hidden majesty. This must be the scales left behind by a powerful Ancestral Dragon senior. I shall accept this gift, and in doing so, I accept the full weight of the Dragon Race’s kindness. This is enough; any more would instead damage the friendship between myself and the Dragon Race."

His eyes and smile were incredibly clean, without the slightest hint of disdain for Long Wangchu’s pathetic display. His words and actions were extremely sincere, lacking any sense of looking down from a position of impending grace.

Long Qianxin sighed inwardly and did not persist. He withdrew the other gifts and bowed once more. "Then everything shall be as the Abyssal Son of God wishes. I shall return now to report. I leave Wangchu in your care."

"Please inform the Dragon Sovereign that in as little as a month, or at most half a year, Brother Wangchu will surely be reborn," Yun Che said with a smile. "In the name of the son of the Dreamless God Regent, I guarantee Brother Wangchu’s safety."

Long Qianxin smiled faintly. "Even if my Dragon Race did not trust ourselves, we would never distrust the Abyssal Son of God and the vast Weaver’s Dream God Kingdom."

"Farewell!"

Long Qianxin departed, leaving quite decisively and hurriedly, fearing that if he stayed any longer, his own old face would be dragged onto the ground along with Long Wangchu’s.

Leaving the Weaver’s Dream God Kingdom, he turned back to look, sighing long and hard in his heart... Long Wangchu acted like a tyrant within the Dragon Race, fearing nothing. But standing next to Yun Che, whether in temperament, speech, or bearing, they were as different as heaven and earth, as distinct as clouds and mud.

"Brother Wangchu, please."

Yun Che stepped aside and raised his hand, his smile as gentle as a breeze blowing over spring water without causing a single ripple... yet no one could see the terrifying dark undercurrent hidden beneath that smile.

"Uh... the Abyssal Son of God should go first."

Long Wangchu was trying hard to recall the etiquette the Dragon Sovereign had instructed, but his dragon spine remained half-bent, as if pressed down by some invisible force, having forgotten how to straighten up.

"Hahahaha!" Yun Che laughed heartily. "I heard that Brother Wangchu rarely steps out of the Dragon Race; it seems that is indeed the case. This is my private palace; there is no need for any restraint... Never mind, Brother Wangchu, follow me."

"Alright." Long Wangchu nodded, trying to show a smile that was agreeable yet did not lose the integrity of the Dragon Race. "Having just arrived at the God Kingdom, I am indeed a bit unadjusted. I have... made a fool of myself before the Abyssal Son of God."

Yun Che nodded slightly and led the way forward.

Long Wangchu followed behind with light steps, instinctively restraining his aura for fear of causing offense. His gaze shifted slightly toward Meng Zhiyuan, who was walking alongside them. Upon catching sight of that beautiful, flawless profile, he was momentarily dazed, his eyes unable to look away for a long time.

Meng Zhiyuan looked straight ahead, a shallow smile on her face, but her jade fingers were slightly clenched. She was calculating whether she should invade his dragon soul and make him fall flat on his face right then and there...

Forget it, I shouldn't cause trouble for the Young Master.

Arriving at the guest hall, Yun Che stopped and turned around. "Brother Wangchu has traveled far and needs to rest. I will give orders to prepare a banquet. If you have any needs, please feel free to ask; do not be polite."

Long Wangchu felt quite overwhelmed by the favor, but he finally remembered the main business and said hurriedly, "No, no, there's no need for that, Abyssal Son of God. Before leaving, that old... uh, my father repeatedly instructed that the only thing to do on this trip is to concentrate on receiving the dragon bone and dragon marrow bestowed by the Abyssal Son of God. Other than that, I am not to cause any trouble for you."

Yun Che nodded slightly, appearing deep in thought. After a moment, he said, "I understand the Dragon Sovereign’s worry and urgency. However, once the transfer and inheritance of the dragon marrow and dragon soul begins, Brother Wangchu may have to stay within the profound formation for several months without leaving for even a second."

"I know that, I know," Long Wangchu said quickly. The persistent feeling of inferiority undoubtedly made him uncomfortable. He said cautiously, "If the Abyssal Son of God has no pressing matters at the moment, could we... could we directly..."

Yun Che looked helpless and nodded. "In that case... very well."

"Zhiyuan, close the palace doors. I will see no guests today."

Meng Zhiyuan watched as Yun Che led Long Wangchu into the cultivation space. The moment the barrier was completely sealed, she finally couldn't hold back any longer and let out an extremely angry and indignant low cry: "The Young Master is willing to damage himself just to help a piece of trash like that?"

"What 'Young Master of the Dragon Race'? He can't even compare to the Young Master's little toe... I'm so angry! I'm so angry!!"

"This is the Young Master's decision after all, don't be angry," Shangguan Helu comforted her softly... though she herself was also full of indignation.

"But I am angry! Even if the Young Master said it himself, I'm still angry!" Meng Zhiyuan stomped her foot hard. After a long while, she muttered in a low voice, "I'm afraid in this world, only the Young Master could be so foolishly kind-hearted."

In the space completely isolated from the outside world, with a barrier personally set by Meng Kongchan, not a single ray of light or wisp of aura could escape.

Yun Che’s footsteps stopped. He looked at the empty space ahead... his calm expression showed a crack that was on the verge of losing control, but in an instant, it was perfectly restored.

Behind him, Long Wangchu was already trembling with excitement. Long Zhiming had told him clearly that the dragon marrow and dragon soul Yun Che carried were so powerful they made even the Dragon Sovereign tremble. Completing the inheritance would surely allow him to be completely reborn.

In the future, there was even a high possibility of surpassing his father and touching the Dragon God Realm that the Dragon Race had lost for so long.

"Abyssal Son of God, I am ready. We can start anytime..."

Amidst his excitement and eagerness, he didn't forget to offer a compliment: "I am truly troubling the Abyssal Son of God."

"It seems Brother Wangchu is indeed impatient." Yun Che’s eyes slowly narrowed, and his smile took on an unfathomable meaning. "Coincidentally, so am I."

He raised his hand, and with a flash of crimson light, a small profound formation appeared in front of him, flowing with a faint crimson divine light.

"Brother Wangchu, please." Yun Che stepped aside.

Long Wangchu’s throat bobbed violently. He stared intently at the strange profound formation before him, as if gazing at a door of destiny that would completely rewrite his life.

He had never seen such strange crimson divine light in his life. From it, he vaguely sensed a spatial aura, yet it was vastly different from the spatial divine power he knew.

Mysterious and unpredictable, combined with an unfamiliarity that transcended his understanding, it did not arouse any suspicion. Instead, it made the throbbing in his heart intensify.

He took a deep breath, forced his mind to steady, and stepped into the crimson profound formation with a relatively calm posture.

And truly, he stepped through a "door of destiny."

The crimson light flashed, and the dimensions suddenly shifted. Before Long Wangchu could react, the world before him had turned gray and dark.

Dense Abyss Dust surged from the surroundings like a nightmare, covering his body and spiritual senses like layers of inescapable, heavy mire.

His pupils dilated, and his soul was struck with terror, as if suddenly falling into a nightmare. "This... this... this is..."

In the gray world, his eyes caught Yun Che’s figure. He spun around abruptly in horror and cried out, "What... what happened? Where is this... why does it look so much like... the Sea of Fog³..."

His voice, which started with a sharp edge of terror, gradually weakened until it finally faded away.

The shock in his pupils did not dissipate upon seeing Yun Che; instead, it slowly magnified as they contracted.

Yun Che was staring fixedly at him. He was still smiling, but accompanying the smile this time was an incredibly sinister coldness—a coldness so bone-chilling it seemed to seep from the bottom of an endless abyss of death.

This terrifying chill invaded his dragon pupils, then went straight into his body and soul, causing his blood to freeze completely in an instant.

"You..."

Long Wangchu’s lips moved violently, but he could only manage to shout one word before he could no longer make a sound. His throat felt as if it were being strangled by an invisible, icy demonic hand reaching out from Yun Che’s eyes.

No longer needing to pretend, no longer needing to endure or suppress, the crazily surging hatred wildly tore at every one of Yun Che’s soul strings. The blood in his body was running wild out of control, and his lowered hands were trembling uncontrollably.

The completely unleashed resentment made even Li Suo feel a soul-piercing chill, let alone Long Wangchu.

The corners of Yun Che’s mouth slowly pulled back. His pupils, dyed the color of the abyss by hatred, stared fixedly at Long Wangchu’s pale face. Finally, his parted lips released a slow voice:

"Long... Wang... Chu..."

"Wel... come... to... Hell!"