Originally, Tilly’s demand for twenty hours of cuddles out of every twenty-four had already shocked Xuefei to her core.
But Chesia took it to another level entirely. She showed Xuefei what true round-the-clock clinging looked like—demanding to be held every single minute of the day.
Not that Xuefei always remembered. She often forgot to pick Chesia up.
Yet Chesia never cried about it. At most, she would sit perfectly still, her little face drooping in that heartbreaking almost-about-to-cry expression. That was what worried Xuefei the most.
There had been that one time when the two greedy little ones had drained every last bit of nutrition from her, and Xuefei had accidentally stepped on Chesia’s tail. But the soft little thing hadn’t let out a single cry, not like Tilly would have.
That didn’t mean Chesia never cried over other things, though.
Xuefei had reached a conclusion:
Hugs and milk? No crying.
No hugs but milk? No crying.
Hugs but no milk? No crying.
No hugs and no milk? Full-on wailing.
Even then, Chesia’s wails were silent. She would spend the night shedding tears alone in the dark until Tilly—several months older—noticed, woke Xuefei, and revealed the tear-streaked, pitiful mess that little Chesia had become, abandoned off to the side. Only then would Xuefei apologize profusely, shove Leia aside, and pull Chesia into her arms. Or, if needed, first tuck Tilly back into Leia’s embrace for the perfect solution…
And so, Chesia was the picture of obedience—almost too perfect, fitting Xuefei’s stereotype of the ideal little girl to a tee.
At night, Xuefei cradled her two obedient daughters, one on each side, while lying atop Leia’s body.
This was the happiest time for their little family of dragons—a full hour of “storytime” that none of them could get enough of.
Leia always grew excited for these moments, while Xuefei endlessly rubbed the two little dragons’ heads, unable to get enough of the feel. Their scales were still developing and loved the attention.
“Once upon a time, there was a little girl playing in the fields with her friends. But they wandered into a maze by accident and encountered a terrifying monster!”
“It was a mass of black shadow, speaking in a seductive woman’s voice.”
“The monster told the girl: ‘If you want to live, you must meet one of my conditions.'”
“‘First, trade the farm owner’s head for your life.'”
“‘Second, trade your companion’s life.'”
“‘Third, trade your own soul—you’ll become my servant…'”
Xuefei didn’t need to guess; she knew this was another one of Leia’s bizarre dark fairy tales. Tilly, however, was utterly engrossed, pounding Leia’s thigh with her tiny fists in anticipation.
“Mama, tell me what happened to the little girl! Did she pick the third one?”
Chesia watched with wide eyes, brimming with expectation.
Leia continued:
“That’s right—the little girl made her choice.”
“But not from the monster’s options.”
“She wiggled her muddy little hands, tousled her messy hair, picked up a nearby stone and stick, and fought the monster!” Leia’s voice quickened, perfectly capturing the protagonist’s dire straits.
“She can beat it? That’s way too risky!” Tilly grumbled.
Xuefei just smiled. She knew how this one ended.
Leia went on:
“The little girl learned a truth: no one could control her fate.”
“The battle raged for three days and nights. She was starving and parched, on the brink of death, but she never gave up. In the end, she pierced the monster’s body with a tree branch.”
“Wow, she’s amazing!” Tilly wriggled in excitement.
“Isn’t she just?” Leia stroked Xuefei’s head, then her smooth shoulder.
“But the girl collapsed too, barely breathing. In her delirium, she gazed at the dying monster—a beautiful monster girl. She drank its blood, becoming its master… and a far stronger monster herself.”
“Then, when she emerged from the maze and returned to the village, she found her companions blocking her path and the oppressive farm owner. She killed them all and strode away alone~”
“Wow, she’s so cool!”
“Tilly’s pretty awesome too,” Leia said, rubbing Tilly’s dragon back. “No one can beat us Evil Dragons. If anyone clashes with you, do whatever feels right—kill them, enslave them. You’re free to choose!”
At that moment, Chesia wore an anxious expression. She glanced left and right before fixing her gaze on Xuefei, lost in thought about something.
Xuefei understood immediately.
It wasn’t the story’s clashing values that troubled her, nor any dislike of the tale itself.
Dragon Mom cradled the little dragon’s head in her arms and rubbed it affectionately, her voice gentle as she said:
“Chesia is pretty amazing too, you know. You and Tilly both are!”
Only after hearing herself praised did Chesia gradually relax. She pillowed her head on Xuefei’s body, looking utterly content—as blissful as if she’d nursed for a full five hours.
“Was Mommy’s story fun?”
“It was!”
“Yay…”
“Then be good and go to sleep. Tomorrow I’ll take you out for a trip~” Xuefei said. But she soon regretted letting that slip.
“Where are we going?!” Tilly was so excited she nearly jumped out of her skin.
In theory, anywhere within the domain’s range would do. Now that Laer and Maryvega had expanded the domain all the way to the Nation of Snake Demons, sightseeing there was entirely feasible.
“Probably Kariye Lake or the Steranta Great Mountain Range,” Leia explained. “We can soak in the hot springs and eat, drink, and play to our hearts’ content in the nearby spots.”
Xuefei inwardly grumbled that it was hardly a proper “hot spring.” The Steranta Great Mountain Range was legendarily the ancient home of the Flame Demon. These days it lay deserted, crawling with active volcanoes. The only settlements were a handful of small Demon villages over a hundred kilometers away…but the scalding natural magma pools made for a fine bath for an Evil Dragon.
It was a testament to just how terrifying an Evil Dragon’s constitution truly was.
Orman’s Holy Sword could cleave the earth’s crust with ease, yet to Xuefei it felt like little more than a faint itch. A full-grown Evil Dragon could even saunter into the planet’s core or stroll across the sun’s surface. By any measure of common sense, Xuefei had never witnessed anything so absurd. And yet now that she herself had become an Evil Dragon, the phenomenon had taken on a mocking familiarity…
“Alright, bedtime—or tomorrow I’ll tie your tails in knots,” Xuefei warned. The two little ones showed no sign of settling down; if anything, they were getting more rambunctious. She flicked her foot through the air, snuffing out the dim fireflies drifting in the darkness.
“Mmm.” Chesia hurriedly burrowed into Xuefei’s embrace and drifted off to sleep. Not forgetting to give Xuefei’s body a gentle lick with her little tongue first, prompting her to open her arms. That way, Chesia could latch on in the perfect position (meow~), her sense of security complete.
Tilly followed suit. They all craved that comfort so badly…
Leia stifled her chuckles as the four of them finally lay down… A few minutes later, the pitch-black Dragon Nest filled with the rhythmic sound of four breathing in unison, mingled with soft, kittenish purrs.
