I Married A Disabled Tyrant After Transmigrating - Chapter 179

Seventy-eight Dragons (2)

“Chirp~”

The naughty dragon finally got what he deserved, and the little bird was genuinely delighted!

After Mister Long closed the door and left, Mu Wanwan, lying on the bed, couldn’t help but open her eyes—

She must have been dreaming just now, right?!

Otherwise, how could she have imagined that the usually stubborn and reserved dragon could be so… passionate…?

However, the sweet orange taste lingering in her mouth, the warm sensation still present on her chin, and the fact that her forehead no longer hurt much… all these told her—

She wasn’t dreaming.

Her dragon had truly come back, helped her with her wounds, and even stolen a kiss.

Mu Wanwan patted her face and tried to sit up, but a sudden soreness in her waist made her feel weak, and a tingling sensation shot up from her spine, almost causing her to collapse back onto the bed.

Why did she feel so sore after just a nap? She was sure nothing significant had happened.

Dazed, Mu Wanwan slowly came to her senses. After several struggles, she finally managed to sit up halfway. That’s when she noticed an indescribable garment hanging prominently on the curtain opposite her.

The dress was entirely bright pink, and its material looked extremely expensive. The style was quite peculiar, neither resembling the traditional lined jacket and skirt nor the loose, flowing attire favoured by female cultivators. It had a touch of modern princess dress about it, with the collar lined with colourful fur from some unknown animal.

Just looking at that dazzling pink dress made Mu Wanwan’s eyes hurt. She glanced at the hem and saw that it was studded with colourful gemstones.

How did such an ostentatious and not particularly attractive dress end up hanging by her bed?

Mu Wanwan rubbed her temples and glanced at the side of the bed, nearly blinded by the pile of spirit stones.

“Chirp!” Mengmeng, seeing that she was awake, happily picked up a shiny stone and hopped over to the bed, placing the carefully selected shiny stone in her hand.

Mu Wanwan held the spirit stone in her hand, feeling somewhat dreamy.

What was going on? Did Mister Long bring all these back? The sound of the door opening caught her attention, and she instinctively looked towards it, meeting Mister Long’s narrow eyes.

He looked healthier than before, no longer ghostly pale. The once terrifying curse marks had faded significantly, leaving only faint black and red lines.

He resembled the young Little Mister Long now, but grown up. His nose was less rounded, his brows and eyes still deep black, and annoyingly, his eyelashes seemed to have grown even longer.

Whatever he had been doing outside, his long black hair was now wet, water droplets slipping down his temples.

His broken horns remained as ghastly as ever, and his once white and furry ears now seemed… rather bald?

Perhaps Mu Wanwan’s astonished gaze made Mister Long aware of something, because in the next moment, those ears vanished as if they had been an illusion.

Mu Wanwan blinked, looking down, unsure of what to say.

Mister Long was similarly at a loss. He just walked in coolly, closing the door behind him.

The moment the door closed, both human and dragon paused, feeling a bit awkward. It was broad daylight, and here they were, a single man and a single woman alone in a room with the door shut.

What was he planning to do? (:3」∠)

Mu Wanwan’s face turned a little red. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mister Long solemnly open up the wheelchair she had gotten from Uncle Tie and sit down, facing the pile of spirit stones with his head bowed as if preparing to cultivate.

She suddenly couldn’t help but feel a bit frustrated—

Wasn’t this dragon going to say anything to her? Why had he come back so late, why did the curse marks on his face seem to have faded significantly? And why had he brought such a pile of spirit stones and a dress that nearly blinded her with its gaudiness?

Could that dress possibly be a gift for her?

Mu Wanwan turned her head and felt something slipping from her hair. Instinctively, she reached up and found a hairpin among her tangled locks.

Mu Wanwan: “…”

Oh? It wasn’t the same one that Jiu Qing had given her:）

Looking at the hairpin Jiu Qing had given her, which was placed on the nearby table, Mu Wanwan couldn’t hold back anymore. This dragon had carried her back but hadn’t even taken down her hair, yet he switched her hairpin? What was Mister Long thinking?

“Mister Long,” she began.

“You…”

Both spoke at the same time, but Mister Long didn’t dare look at her, his fingers scratching at the back of the wheelchair.

Mu Wanwan fell silent for a moment. She waited for him to speak first, but after a long pause, he still said nothing.

A bit exasperated, she softened her tone, remembering the pitiful little dragon in Uncle Tie’s memory. Her voice carried a hint of grievance, “Why did you come back so late?”

It was the first time she had ever complained to him like this, but instead of evoking feelings of guilt, anguish, or heartache in Mister Long, it made him feel a little ticklish inside.

He looked at Mu Wanwan’s messy hair, her slightly dishevelled clothes, the way she clutched the bed sheet, and her lowered eyes. Even the tips of his ears felt hot.

He wanted to explain, to say he had encountered difficulties, but he feared making her worry. After a long silence, just as Mu Wanwan couldn’t resist looking at him, he finally spoke in a steady, cold voice, “The clothes.”

“What?” Mu Wanwan looked at him, only to see Mister Long manoeuvring the wheelchair slowly, navigating the path through the spirit stones, and coming to her bedside.

A gentle breeze stirred in front of Mu Wanwan, her hair momentarily covering her eyes. As she blushed and adjusted her hair, she saw Mister Long holding that garish bright pink dress that had been hanging by the bed.

“It’s pretty.” Mister Long’s voice was cool and aloof, but Mu Wanwan caught a hint of anticipation in his slightly trembling eyelashes. “For you.”

Mu Wanwan, “…”

With trembling hands, she took the dress from Mister Long. For the sake of love, she forced herself to say, “I quite like it.”

Mister Long’s eyes brightened, his lips curving slightly. A fleeting smile danced in his eyes as he carefully produced another dress, similar in style to the garish pink one, but in a delicate lavender colour. Awkwardly, he handed it to her, “There’s another one.”

Mu Wanwan, “…”

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