It was as if the wind and snow swirled around it, roaring to fend off any who dared to spy.
Outside Amai, more and more people noticed the dancer’s unusual posture— her head remained tilted back for an unusually long time.
They struggled to keep balance against the abnormal wind. The intense stage lighting was too dazzling, and some audience members began complaining.
Yet, as they squinted upward while grumbling, they too were engulfed by the same overwhelming silence that befell Amai.
At that moment, silence seemed like a terrifying virus, rapidly spreading from one section of the stands to the entire area.
“…What’s wrong with you?” Some latecomers asked their neighbors, only to be waved off stiffly, their clothes tugged as eyes were forced upward.
That person: “?…!!!!”
Mu Yiyang’s live stream was no less intense, but even more baffling.
“Why did the streamer suddenly stop focusing on the stage? Where’s the camera pointing? It’s all golden and blinding; I can’t see anything! My eyes are going to go blind!”
Even the crowd’s gaze couldn’t contain the dragon’s massive silhouette in the sky, let alone the tiny glowing screen.
“Streamer? Are you still there? Why aren’t you speaking???”
“I have to say…” After a long pause, the live viewers noticed the golden glow on screen slowly moving, and once again heard Mu Yiyang’s voice.
But they found they could hardly understand him.
“Ten years of jinxing for today’s dream come true, I think it was worth it.”
“Everyone, tonight’s show is legendary; no one can top it, I say so.”
At this point, Mu Yiyang seemed calm, but the next moment, the chat read, “Please turn down your volume, high energy incoming.”
…High energy? What high energy??
Then, earphone users were bombarded by overwhelming screams, dying on the spot from the shock.
Chaos erupted before the Saen Clan’s dragon bell. The royal city’s security faced its greatest crisis yet, as even the guards refused to work.
The golden dragon in the sky was flawless; not even the most famous artisans could carve the arc of its visible portion.
It hid among the clouds, but the clouds couldn’t contain its entire form. Occasionally revealing a side, it seemed to hold ancient, majestic power that intimidated all.
“Is this real? Or fake??” Logic told people the latter, but their emotions wanted to believe the former.
As everyone wrestled between reason and feeling, no one noticed that the dancer on stage had gone blank, dragged into the Spiritual World.
“Amai.”
This time, the Spiritual World was an endless white expanse.
Beiyuan was the only color within it, quietly standing in this space, as tiny as a dot yet seeming to control the entire world.
He just called her name, and the girl suddenly felt she understood his meaning.
“…Are you leaving?” Though hard to describe her feelings, after everything tonight, Amai found she was no longer surprised by the day’s events.
—This world can’t keep him.
If born to soar the skies as a dragon, he shouldn’t be bound to the earth; landing is only rest. Afterwards, he must leave, no one can stop him.
No one.
“So, you really are… a dragon?” The girl couldn’t help but ask, lowering her voice as if afraid to disturb something.
Beiyuan smiled faintly and nodded. “Yes.”
Amai looked incredulous, seeming ready to pinch herself to confirm reality.
“So I really met a real dragon… and we’re still talking!?” She paused, then asked, “Will we see each other again?”
Beiyuan thought a moment, “Maybe.”
Amai: “Can’t I come to see you?”
Beiyuan: “It’s difficult. This world probably doesn’t have a ticket to fly there.”
“Oh…” Amai replied softly, lost in thought, then calmly said, “I understand. Then—”
“Goodbye, Beiyuan.”
“Goodbye, Amai.”
The white Spiritual World gradually blurred, and Amai sensed her spirit was being pulled back to her body.
Here, they seemed to simply say farewell calmly.
But at the last moment, driven by impulse, she urgently shouted, “Goodbye… I mean, remember to say goodbye to Sinsid and also the cat for me! I’ve always wanted to pet it but never dared— not because I dislike it…”
“I’ll pass it on.” Beiyuan smiled, noting everything.
As Amai prepared not to speak again, she suddenly heard him say one last thing,
“I really like your dance, Amai. It’s truly beautiful, the best I’ve ever seen. I’m honored to witness it.”
At that moment, the usually composed girl finally broke down in tears.
Amai: “Me too…”
Amai: “I’m deeply honored.”
What could be more glorious than dancing for a dragon, created by a dragon’s inspiration and acknowledged by the dragon itself?
Nothing.
Throughout history, all ice dance heirs have tried their best to convey this message, the highest praise dreamed of for generations—and now, in Amai, it was fully realized.
The next second, Amai opened her eyes, back in the real world.
Before her was a starlit stage, and in the distance, the stands filled with a dense crowd.
She tested her feet and found her skates fully restored and flawless.
Moreover, the blades shimmered with dazzling golden light, just like the scales of the dragon she remembered.
…Wow! Thank you, Beiyuan!
Amai blinked with moist eyes, tears welling, but a radiant smile blossomed across her face like never before.
All who watched sensed the sudden change in her aura.
Previously, Amai’s admiration for dragons was inherited from ancestors; now it was heartfelt, born from her own emotions. Like a phoenix reborn from fire, she moved the entire audience with her passion.
She even created her own dance steps— an entirely new ice dance was born! Or perhaps, she was rewriting the legend from a thousand years ago!
“Wow, I think Amai’s in a great state now,” Sinsid, who had calmed down on the clock tower, stroked his chin, thoroughly enjoying the scene.
“She’s just found clear outlines from a vague concept.”
Beiyuan suddenly appeared beside Sinsid, startling him.
Sinsid looked up at the fading dragon in the sky, clearly puzzled. Beiyuan took the chance to explain, “I replaced it with a Dragon’s Breath illusion. I just learned this new skill recently and am testing it.”
“I carefully investigated these past days,” Beiyuan shifted tone, “When the Space Vortex appeared that day, there was the Ghost Spider Lady, the Wind King, you and me— multiple intense energies collided.”
“You mean…” Sinsid’s expression grew serious, “If many different energies collide again, the vortex will reappear?”
“Most likely.” Beiyuan paused, “But I don’t yet know the required intensity level; accidents might happen, and it could be dangerous.”
Though Beiyuan clearly stated the risk, Sinsid seemed to trust him completely and ignored the danger mentioned.
“Then what are we waiting for?” Sinsid grinned lazily but powerfully as he stood, “What do you need me to do?”
Beiyuan opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a sound like helicopter rotors.
Sinsid looked down and saw numerous small flying vehicles rising beneath the clock tower, braving the fierce wind to approach— or more precisely, approaching the golden dragon in the sky.
“Patrol robots? Projection Crystal Balls?” Sinsid hadn’t seen these before, but in the Wanzu World there were similar devices, so he immediately guessed.
Beiyuan said succinctly, “Camera drones.”
Sinsid nodded knowingly, “Looks like they’re not daring to overstep.”
Otherwise, they wouldn’t just send drones to test the waters. For a true dragon, these inorganic lifeforms were like insignificant flies— destroy, chase away, or ignore them, depending on the dragon’s mood.
Sinsid’s gaze fell on Beiyuan, curious about the dragon lord’s mood today.
Fortunately, Beiyuan seemed in a good mood and said, “We need to speed up.”
Beiyuan had already heard the intensifying discussions below. Even the Saen Clan didn’t fully understand the situation and dared not speak out before clarifying.
“So you didn’t prepare this in advance?” Fazel had just dismissed a servant who came asking and clenched the armrest, his fingers slightly whitening from stress.
The Saen King looked surprised, “I thought you made a holographic projection because you were unhappy about being kept in the dark regarding the Wanzu affairs.”
“Wanzu? What does this have to do with the Wanzu?” Fazel’s expression changed after hearing this from a passerby. Dark currents surged in his black eyes, but he never shifted his gaze from the golden figure in the sky, his voice cold, “Old man, what else are you hiding from me?”
The elder knew this was real anger and immediately said, “That’s a long story…”
“Your Majesty, Your Highness,” a servant hurried over and nervously interrupted, “Duke Kanbesi, General Motelike of the Northern Border, the Six-Winged Clan’s envoy, Lucien, and others…”
The servant gasped, listing a long series of names, all of high status. People wouldn’t rush to question their hosts at such a time if they weren’t important.
Servant: “They want to know what exactly the golden dragon in the sky is about.”
These people even risked abandoning their usual caution, etiquette, and pride, showing how urgently they wanted the truth and how turbulent the situation was beneath the surface.
Not to mention the Saen Clan’s dilemma and everyone’s debate over authenticity— these people were outside Beiyuan and Sinsid’s considerations.
After fulfilling their agreement with Amai, they planned to leave casually.
“Do you have Crystal Stones on you?” Beiyuan suddenly asked.
Sinsid nodded and took out a handful from his leather pouch at his waist, “These are to power Silver Star. Not sure if you want them… Wait, you ate them?!”
Energy consumption in the real world had slightly warmed. Beiyuan didn’t look at Sinsid’s stunned expression and nodded, “Start.”
“…” Sinsid exhaled, turning his left hand into a cannon muzzle, charging energy all at once, then looked at Beiyuan, “What about you?”
Beiyuan smiled faintly, “Having it is enough.”
He pointed to the illusion of the dragon in the sky. The Dragon’s Breath illusion was already formed and didn’t require further energy consumption.
With that, everything was ready.
At the same time, the Yan King straightened slowly after receiving Beiyuan’s signal, opening his mouth as red molten energy gathered inside.
The next song was stirring and had just reached its climax, as if someone had made a final decision, awaiting a trial of faith, or a final farewell.
At the last clear beat, the dragon in the sky suddenly blurred, then turned into a dazzling light, hanging like a sun in the night.
Two powerful beams shot from the clock tower, colliding with the brilliant sun in the sky.
“Boom—”
An unprecedented surge of energy swept through the high sky instantly.
This was why Beiyuan had chosen this location partly because of Amai and partly because the Dragon’s Bell was atop the tallest building, preventing ordinary people from being caught in the aftermath.
The drones that had flown halfway up instantly disintegrated in the energy wave; the sky brightened as if day, and people on the ground couldn’t open their eyes.
Beiyuan suddenly looked up, “Vortex.”
Sinsid: “It’s appeared!”
At this moment, only they a few were unaffected.
As the twisted space of the familiar vortex appeared in the air, Beiyuan reached out and grabbed Sinsid’s belt, while the Yan King instinctively hugged Egg Bar’s clothes.
Sinsid cried out “Eh eh?” as Beiyuan pushed off the clock tower and leapt into the sky.
The fierce wind swept them into the vortex.
In the last second, Egg in the Yan King’s arms suddenly cracked, followed by Sinsid’s exclamation: “The Egg hatched!? At this moment?…”
The rest of the words were lost in the chaotic space vortex.
When everyone’s vision cleared, the sky had returned to its original silence. Stars sparkled everywhere as if it had all been a distant dream.
But this couldn’t be a dream, at least not one shared by tens of thousands present.
The audience sat stunned in the stands, unable to accept what had happened.
On the stage, the dancer raised her head with calm expression, slightly bowed, confidently taking her bow.
Her lips carried a dazzling smile, completely different from the shocked or dazed crowd, as if from now on, her life would only be filled with smiles and no shadows.
—See?
Not long ago, someone firmly said, “She knows what she must do.” At that moment—
“She will always smile.”