Chapter 15: Slaying the Dragon and Beautiful Face

It was a dragon that Shu Guan found somewhat familiar.

In Shu Guan's entire life, well, including his previous life, he had never seen a real dragon, so why would he find it familiar the first time he saw one?

The dragon quickly arrived above the peach forest. It was about fifty meters long, covered in black scales, and there was only one horn on its head.

A broken and half-missing horn.

Shu Guan suddenly realized why he felt familiar when he saw this dragon.

It was because this dragon resembled the one carved on the pillar in the Immortal Temple, especially the half-broken horn on its head.

The dragon circled the air, lowering its head to look at the two people below.

Shu Guan also looked up fearfully at the dragon in the sky.

He never thought that there really were dragons in this world.

Any normal person would inevitably feel some fear when suddenly seeing a creature they'd only heard of in myths and legends right before their eyes.

However, when Shu Guan saw the dragon's eyes, he suddenly froze.

It was because he saw fear in those golden-yellow eyes, the same fear as his, even more profound fear than his own.

At this point, Shu Guan noticed that the dragon's circling body in the sky was trembling slightly.

Shu Guan looked at the dragon and was afraid.

The dragon seemed to be afraid of them too.

...What was it afraid of? Afraid of us?...

Just as a hint of doubt rose in Shu Guan's mind, the old lame man raised his hand again, grabbing the dragon in the sky.

The dragon's body in the sky was massive, and even when coiled, it was much bigger than the slope below.

The old lame man's body was small, like an ant in front of the giant dragon.

Yet the old man raised his hand and grabbed the dragon by the neck.

The dragon was still enormous, the hand still small.

But the dragon was held in that palm, not even daring to struggle.

It was a visually contradictory scene that made one feel like they were going to cough up blood.

Shu Guan stared at the scene in astonishment, forgetting his fear for a moment.

Immediately after, Shu Guan saw the old lame man raise his other hand and gaze deeply into his eyes with a strange look.

The next moment, the old lame man slapped the dragon's neck, severing its body into two parts.

The dragon's head shot up towards the sky.

Golden-yellow blood spurted from the broken neck, raining down like a downpour from the sky, drenching Shu Guan's head, body, and face.

A burning heat spread throughout Shu Guan's body.

Shu Guan cried out in panic and suddenly sat up.

...

Outside the wooden house, a ray of morning sunlight slanted in.

Shu Guan took a few breaths in rapid succession before gradually calming down.

...It was just a dream.

Feeling a damp sensation coming from his body, Shu Guan hurriedly looked down, thinking of the scene in his dream.

There was no golden-yellow blood on his clothes, but he had sweated a lot from the nightmare, causing his underwear to be somewhat damp.

Shu Guan shook his head, his mind still somewhat groggy, so he got up and prepared to go to the stream to wash his face with cold water.

When he walked out of the wooden house, Shu Guan looked sideways at the old cripple's grave and gave a bitter smile.

This was the first time he had dreamt of the old cripple after his death. He didn't know whether this was "The night of the seventh-day soul-revival" or not, but there was no heartwarming scene as he had hoped—instead, he had such a strange dream.

As the saying goes, you dream at night about what you think during the day. It seemed that deep down inside, he still couldn't accept that he would spend the rest of his life mundanely in this small mountain village.

Immortal Temple, Dragon, and the old cripple who was once suspected to be a hidden expert, as well as the seemingly ordinary yet somewhat mysterious mountain village, were all actually buried deep in his heart and had not been completely let go.

While walking to the stream, Shu Guan was thinking about why he had had such a strange dream and came up with an answer that he thought was reasonable.

When he arrived at the stream, he squatted halfway down, and scooped up a handful of water in his hands to wipe on his face. A cool sensation spread throughout his body, making him feel much more awake. Apart from that, he had slept well the night before, so his mental state was also much better and not as dazed as it had been a few days ago.

Shu Guan then got up to return home to eat something, grab a change of clothes, and come back here to guard the old cripple's grave for the seventh day.

However, at this moment, Shu Guan suddenly widened his eyes in disbelief, staring at his palm.

Somehow, there were many small black spots on his palm.

After several seconds of bewilderment, Shu Guan, trembling, dipped his face into the stream again.

He was somewhat excited and frightened.

Because he already knew what the suddenly appeared black spots on his palm were.

They were the black moles on his face!

Shu Guan gazed into the crystal-clear stream, which reflected his face.

His face still had many moles on it and seemed no different from before.

But Shu Guan knew that his face had changed!

He had been looking at this face for eighteen years.

Although Shu Guan had never counted how many black moles grew on his face, he still recognized at a glance that there were now fewer moles on his face.

Others might not be able to distinguish the difference, since very few people could look directly at his face for more than ten seconds, but Shu Guan could discern such subtle changes himself.

After that, Shu Guan looked at the black spots in his palm again and remained silent.

The moles had been on his face for eighteen years, and the old cripple had tried countless methods to remove them, even using poultices made from the seven-colored herbs, but all in vain.

Shu Guan had seen with his own eyes a young girl in the village who had a face full of freckles. After applying the juice of the seven-colored herbs on her face for three days, her face became as smooth and tender as a freshly peeled egg. This was even more effective than any high-tech skin care product from Shu Guan's previous life.

That was one of the reasons why all the women in Taoyuan Village were so beautiful—they all used the juice of the seven-colored herbs on their faces.

However, the magical herb couldn't cure Shu Guan's moles. The old cripple had searched the mountains for many kinds of herbs, but none of them could cure Shu Guan.

The old cripple had once told Shu Guan that the boils he had as a child were probably caused by something very sinister and poisonous. The old cripple didn't know what the poisonous substance was, and it was already fortunate that Shu Guan's life had been saved.

But why did the moles, which were always resistant to treatment, fall off on their own now?

Of course, it would be a delightful thing if he could really remove the moles from his face.

After the excitement, Shu Guan's eyes again showed endless confusion and then turned strange.

For some reason, he recalled the dream from last night, thinking of the dragon cut in half and the golden-yellow blood that had sprinkled all over him in the dream.

Slowly, with some difficulty, Shu Guan turned around and looked at the old cripple's grave not far behind him.

There was an old man squatting before the grave.

"Mole."

As Shu Guan turned around, the old man also raised his head and called out Shu Guan's name.