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Gu Yue spread her wings and soared through the sky, her gaze unconsciously drifting to the spot on her right wing where Bai Xu had touched her.
To be honest, she usually disliked physical contact with others, yet she found herself willing—even eager—to let Bai Xu touch her.
It wasn't that she particularly enjoyed the sensation itself, but rather that she wanted Bai Xu to take an interest in her.
Her thoughts wandered, and she couldn't help but recall that year spent together by the Lake of Life. Back then, she had still been naive. She had taken Bai Xu's advice and spent over half a year in Shrek City, immersing herself in human emotions. That experience had changed her.
Certain aspects of her emotions had deepened. She had learned to think beyond herself, no longer viewing the world solely from her own perspective. Instead, she began considering things from the standpoint of the entire soul beast race, from the perspective of humans—and even from Bai Xu's point of view. She reflected on her decisions and plans.
It was then that she realized, almost immediately, that she should never have made that bet with Na'er.
Love could blind a person, especially when they failed to see the bigger picture.
That day, she had stood silently by the Lake of Life, watching Bai Xu meditate atop the Life Gold. Whether viewed from the lens of soul beasts or humans, the world was easy to understand. The struggle between races was simply a matter of survival—those too weak would be eliminated.
Humans were more creative, more capable of unity and cooperation. They could band together to resist external threats, using their wisdom to overcome hardships.
But soul beasts were different. Those over ten thousand years old possessed intelligence comparable to humans—sometimes even slightly inferior. Worse still, the various soul beast species could never truly unite. They might temporarily heed the Beast God's commands and cease their infighting, but old habits died hard. Any alliance would be fleeting.
Both races were easy enough to comprehend, but Bai Xu was different. At the time, Gu Yue hadn't known his true identity. To her, he seemed to exist beyond both races—an outsider observing the world from a detached perspective.
If he truly understood the past, present, and future… why would he only offer warnings to the soul beasts and not the humans?
Was it merely for resources?
Didn't humans possess far greater resources?
This mystery had led Gu Yue to unconsciously fixate on Bai Xu's every move, replaying all his actions up to that point in her mind.
During their first encounter at the East Sea Academy sparring match, he had shown no particular interest in her. On the contrary, it was she who had been intrigued by him, wanting to uncover the secret behind his abnormal spiritual power.
Later, the Plane's Will had acted as an intermediary, forging an alliance between them. Bai Xu had revealed many shocking truths. If everything he said was real, then the consequences of her falling in love with Tang Wulin would be catastrophic.
The Plane's Will had claimed that Bai Xu possessed the ability to perceive past and future events—and Gu Yue had believed it.
Then, Bai Xu had spoken to her about those profound principles, and upon reflection, she found them to be true. As she contemplated human emotions, she grew confused, sought Bai Xu's guidance, and began to awaken.
Though Bai Xu had never done anything particularly substantial for her, those few words of his had carried more weight than a thousand speeches.
A faint fondness began to take root in her heart.
Even though Bai Xu's appearance was unremarkable—nowhere near as endearing as Tang Wulin's, nor as handsome and aloof as Wu Zhangkong's—Gu Yue still found herself inexplicably drawn to him. (T/N: How refreshing)
She knew, as the future ruler of the soul beasts, that she shouldn't feel this way. Yet, for no discernible reason, she had developed feelings for Bai Xu. Though she tried to hide them, he had seen right through her in the end.
What truly shattered her restraint, however, were Bai Xu's words about love. When she laid her feelings bare, she had considered many possibilities—perhaps he wouldn't care, perhaps he would reject her, or perhaps, by some slim chance, he might return her affections.
But the one outcome she hadn't anticipated was Bai Xu urging her to think carefully.
He had been right. No matter how much she refined her emotions, certain inherent traits were difficult to change. A soul beast would only ever pledge themselves to one person in their lifetime—and from that moment on, Gu Yue had known her answer.
Yet she also knew that in this life, she would inevitably betray him. She would continue to exploit his presence, using him to gather intelligence about the future.
Then, something beyond her expectations happened—Tang San intervened, severing the soul beasts' path forward. But in doing so, he had also stripped them of their autonomy, forcing them to make a choice.
Gu Yue still remembered the situation clearly.
Di Tian had sought her out and said:
"Rather than living on like caged monkeys in a zoo—stripped of freedom and dignity—we should side with Bai Xu and fight for a future where soul beasts stand as equals to humans. Even if we die in the attempt, history will at least remember that we existed."
"This is the will of the soul beast's… and the decision of the entire soul beast race."
"Even if we fail, the lower-ranked soul beasts won't suffer much. Only we, the leaders, will perish."
And so, the soul beasts aligned their interests with Bai Xu's, silently placing their bets.
Gu Yue hadn't revealed any of this to Bai Xu. They needed to prove themselves through action, not empty words.
Now, at last, she could fight without restraint—striving for a better future. The ending would no longer be a tragedy. For the first time, a glimmer of hope had appeared, offering her a path where she could have it all.
At this thought, the corners of Gu Yue's lips lifted slightly. She turned her gaze toward the direction of the Dragon Valley and murmured:
"Tang Wulin… in truth, neither of us is at fault. The blame lies with your father. His desire for control is too strong—he's turned the entire Douluo Continent into his personal playground. And I… will no longer be a puppet of the Tang family. Even if Bai Xu and I must die in battle, I will never regret it!"
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Tang Wulin absorbed the Golden Dragon essence left behind by the Dragon God. Unable to bear the sight of so many dragon remains left exposed to the elements, he began burying them one by one.
The Golden Dragon King's bloodline had shaped him. If the legends were true—if the Golden Dragon King truly was one half of the Dragon God—then, in a sense, he too was a descendant of the dragon race.
Since the dragon bloodline had granted him power, the least he could do was offer them this final service. Besides, the act itself was a form of spiritual cleansing and cultivation.
At the same time, he learned something else—the Dragon God's other half, the Silver Dragon King, had yet to appear. Yet, he had a feeling it might be Gu Yue. He had sensed that deep, instinctual call of blood before.
But he wasn't certain. Perhaps he could ask her directly when they next met.
As he buried the bones, however, fragments of dragon souls suddenly surged toward him, merging into his body.
Tang Wulin's eyes widened. "You still retain consciousness?!"
A cold wind howled, and a hoarse voice echoed around him:
"Do you know the truth… of the great war?"
"The truth?" Tang Wulin frowned.
The dragon soul did not elaborate, falling silent once more.
Though it was just a brief interlude, Tang Wulin felt no hostility from them.
Every day, aside from eight hours of meditation and rest, he spent his time digging graves and burying bones.
Unbeknownst to him, the draconic aura around him grew stronger with each passing day.
As the number of dragon bones dwindled, the sorrowful atmosphere within the Dragon Valley gradually lightened.
Tang Wulin came across many dragon soul bones—nearly every skeleton had one. They were easy to identify; any bone that wasn't pure white was undoubtedly a soul bone.
This was, after all, the resting place of true dragons. Every skeleton possessed one.
Yet, from beginning to end, Tang Wulin never took a single soul bone.
The once-crowded valley grew emptier as time passed.
Bai Xu, back when he had come here, had done no such thing. He owed no karmic debt to the dragons—nor did he have any reason to spend his time burying their bones.