Dragon Domination: The Ultimate Legacy.

The merchant departed at dawn.

His mule clopped quietly over dewed stones, wheels creaking under the weight of stories untold. A few early risers waved him off; most of Qinghe still slept.

Yun Long woke to silence — not strange, not tense — just the kind of silence that followed a long, dreamless rest. His body felt warm. Heavy, but not tired. Like something inside had settled.

He stretched and winced.

"Sore…" he murmured, rubbing his shoulders.

Downstairs, the scent of warm porridge and ginseng soup greeted him. Madam Su smiled as he walked in, eyes soft with approval.

"You finished the tonic," she said gently. "Did you sleep well?"

He nodded. "I think something happened."

She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

Yun Long frowned. "I don't know… but my chest feels different. Like something moved."

Before she could respond, Old Yun's voice called from the garden. "Bring him out. Let's test that stubborn breath of his."

A few minutes later, Yun Long knelt under the plum tree once more. The air smelled of wet soil and crushed herbs.

Old Yun placed a leaf on Yun Long's palm. "Hold it. Breathe deep. Focus here—" he pointed just below the navel, "—and don't let the leaf tremble."

Yun Long tried.

He failed.

Ten times.

By the eleventh, the leaf fluttered less.

On the twelfth, it stayed still for a breath. Then two.

Old Yun narrowed his eyes. "Hmph."

"What does that mean?" Yun Long asked, panting.

"It means," Old Yun muttered, standing, "your bones are responding. That tonic wasn't wasted." He walked toward the clinic. "But don't get proud. You've just dipped your toes in the pond. Don't think you can swim yet."

Yun Long nodded seriously. His heart beat fast. Not from exertion — but from the faint certainty that something real had started.

That afternoon, Old Yun handed him another small pouch.

"A single marrow-kindling herb. Chew it at night. Only one. Any more and you'll get nosebleeds and diarrhea."

Madam Su smacked his shoulder lightly. "Don't scare the child."

Old Yun just chuckled.

That evening, as Qinghe lit its lanterns again, Yun Long sat on the roof tiles watching the moon rise. The stone he'd been given now lay beside him — still, inert.

But when he pressed a finger to it, he felt something. Not warmth. Not sound.

Just pressure.

Like something waiting.

He said nothing.

But he felt it now — faint Qi moving in his limbs, like mist swirling in still air.

No one noticed. Not Old Yun. Not Madam Su.

And certainly not Yun Long himself — not fully.

But in the sky above, clouds drifted quietly… and paused, just for a breath.

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