One, two, three… thirty… forty-six… fifty… sixty… ninety…

  I held a small stone in my hand, absentmindedly counting the three rows of fine scratches on the cave wall.

  Just like on Fulong Mountain, these marks were my personal record of time. But here, each scratch represented only a single day.

  I had been sealed inside this cave for exactly ninety days.

  He never came.

  And yet, I was still waiting. I couldn't convince myself to give up.

  For ninety days, I sat at the cave entrance, longing for that tall figure in white.

  I stared for so long that my eyes ached. Even the occasional birds, insects, or butterflies flitting past made my heart leap with joy, as if they were his incarnation. But the moment I blinked, reality reminded me—it was all an illusion.

  About ten days ago, it rained outside. I was so excited I nearly jumped up. Rain. Water.

  Those were his signs—he had to be nearby; he must have found me!

  But the rain stopped all too quickly, and the puddles it left behind were soon baked dry by the scorching early summer sun.

  It was now June, and my body was growing weaker by the day.

  I licked my cracked lips, my gaze falling on a jar of clear water and a bundle of wild fruits not far from me. He had left them there—just like he did every day, always providing fresh food and water.

  But I refused to accept his kindness.

  For ninety days, I hadn't touched a single drop of water or eaten a single grain of food. Instead, I survived on memories—memories of that early autumn evening, of those exquisite dishes, the eight-treasure porridge, the delicate floral pastries… I would rather live off the nourishment of my mind than accept anything from him.

  These past days, I had refused to speak to him, and he, in turn, barely acknowledged me. At first, apart from going out to gather food, he spent most of his time meditating and healing in the corner of the cave. We acted as if the other didn't exist. But ever since his back injury healed, he had begun leaving early and returning te.

  Where he went, when he came back—none of that mattered to me. What did matter were the cruel words he had once spoken. I feared that this despicable man had truly gone to make trouble for Zi Miao. Yet, it seemed he hadn't turned his murderous hatred into reality. Every time he returned, there was no scent of blood on him—only the heavy stench of alcohol.

  Maybe… He was just out drinking, pretending to enjoy himself like a human.

  I let out a sigh, staring bnkly at the sky beyond the cave entrance, watching as drifting white clouds faded into the twinkling stars and moonlight.

  Half-asleep, I was startled awake by the sound of footsteps behind me.

  He was back. It was always like this—never passing through the entrance, always appearing like a phantom in the corner of the cave. Over time, I had grown used to it.

  Leaning my head against the stone wall, I continued watching the limited night view, totally ignoring the man behind me.

  "How much longer do you think you can st?" His voice carried an unmistakable anger.

  I didn't bother responding, not even moving.

  Suddenly, a firm grip cmped down on my shoulder, forcing me to turn around.

  Deep purple eyes reflected my indifferent expression.

  He grabbed the water jug, tilted his head back, and took a rge gulp. Then, without warning, he tossed the jug aside, seized my face, and pressed his lips to mine.

  Mouth to mouth, he forcibly poured the water into me.

  This… this lunatic!

  I kicked and punched, struggling desperately to push him away, but he was far too strong. Unless he chose to let go, I was completely at his mercy.

  I was a yaokai. Though I needed food and water like any living being, going three months without wouldn't weaken me to this extent. “Colorless” was about to bloom—my essence was steadily draining away. If I didn't return to Fulong Mountain before it fully bloomed, the consequences would be unimaginable.

  But this lunatic actually thought that forcing a few sips of water into me would restore my strength.

  I stopped struggling, allowing the slightly warm, sweet liquid to slowly flow into my parched body. Of course, I wouldn't tell him the real reason for my weakness.

  My mind had long been made up—if “Colorless” bloomed and Zi Miao still hadn't come, I would rather turn to dust than continue waiting.

  Once he had forced the st drop down my throat, his burning lips finally pulled away.

  I wiped my mouth harshly, unwilling to let even the faintest trace of him remain on me.

  Yet he, like a child who had successfully stolen a treat, grinned with smug satisfaction.

  This wretched, damnable dragon!

  “Well? Was I wrong?” He said, settling down across from me, gloating. “Today marks the ninetieth day, and ‘he’ still hasn't come.”

  It was rare, but he actually remembered—it was our ninetieth day in this cave.

  Had he, just like me, been secretly counting the days all along?

  “He will come.” My voice remained firm, but my head lowered instinctively—I couldn't meet his gaze in that moment.

  “Stop lying to yourself.” He hooked a finger under my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Your Zi Miao—the water god of the heavens—will never come for you. Not in this lifetime, not ever.”

  His words struck me like a bolt of lightning.

  “You… you know Zi Miao?! You know he's a water god?! You've seen him?!” Panic overtook me as I grabbed his hand, my words tumbling out in a mess.

  “The dragon race was born equal to the gods. Even though I am no longer part of the Eastern Sea Dragons, gathering information about the heavens is hardly difficult for me.” He frowned, clearly displeased by my frantic reaction.

  “You′ve seen him?! What have you done to him?!” I shook his arm violently. I didn't care if he was a dragon or a god—I only cared about the man who haunted my heart.

  “I didn't do anything to him.” He smiled strangely. “I don't need to. Those old geezers in the heavens will come for him eventually.”

  “What did you do to him?! You bastard, tell me!”

  I lunged at him like a madwoman, grabbing his colr, my eyes burning with rage.

  “I didn't do anything to him!” He pinned my hands down, roaring, “Do you even understand that a god having an affair with a mortal is a crime punishable by death?!”

  I froze on the spot.

  A god, a mortal… an illicit affair?!

  I was never slow-witted. Connecting these three words into a complete scenario was far too easy.

  For a long time, neither of us spoke.

  In the end, my weakened body slumped helplessly against the stone wall.

  “He… he really was with that beauty…”

  “Yes.” His answer was firm and resolute. “Not only were they together, but they even have a child.”

  If his previous words were a thundercp that shattered my soul, then this word—"child"—was a long bde, stabbing deep into my heart and twisting mercilessly, a pain that cut without drawing blood.

  Ninety days. A mere ninety days. How did things come to this?!

  After a brief silence, I seized his hand and decred resolutely, “I want to see him! Let me see him!”

  “Alright.” To my surprise, he didn't hesitate in the slightest.

  I had imagined countless times how Zi Miao would rescue me from this pit of fire. I had even fantasized about escaping the cave by my own abilities. But never did I think that when I finally regained my freedom, the one who would release me… would be the very person who locked me up.

  Under the moonlight, he held me in his arms, striding across a purple cloud as we sped through the sky.

  I had no strength to resist him—truthfully, I didn't even have the energy to stand.

  Below us, beyond the endless mountain ranges, stretched a vast sea shrouded in mist, its emerald waves jagged and rugged.

  “What is this pce…?”

  “Wuwang Sea,” he replied. “A barren space that only the dragon cn can open. No outsiders can enter, and other dragons won't come here. It′s the perfect hiding pce.”

  (T/N: 无望海, Wúwàng hǎi, lit. means Hopeless Sea or The Sea of Despair)

  “Not even Zi Miao can get in?” I fixed my gaze on him, hoping his answer would reveal the true reason why Zi Miao wouldn't come looking for me.

  “That′s right,” he responded decisively.

  Had I not known what would come ter, I would have cursed him for his shamelessness. But now, I understood—the key issue was never whether the pce I was imprisoned in was beyond Zi Miao's reach.

  Closing my eyes, I fell silent, leaning against his shoulder, letting him take me to the man I had longed to see so desperately—yet now feared to face more than anyone else…