I Married A Disabled Tyrant After Transmigrating

Forty Dragons (1)

The room was dark, and it took a while for Mu Wanwan to completely get used to the somewhat dark environment. With the little light coming in from outside, she watched Mister Long stare seriously at the two white spirit eggs, then carefully retract his somewhat sharp claws. They turned back into human hands and touched the two eggs gently.

“Big Treasure.” His voice was very young and a little hoarse. As he gently called out the name of the slightly larger spirit egg, Mu Wanwan almost thought she was mistaken.

She was a little embarrassed and couldn’t help walking quietly over to Mister Long’s side, then confirmed several times that what he was touching was indeed a spirit egg—

They were white, a little larger than the size of a palm, and carefully wrapped up in a cloth and placed on the table.

“Little Treasure,” Mister Long called out the name of the other spirit egg and touched its round top. Mu Wanwan was a little dumbfounded at his actions.

After calling out their names, Little Mister Long was obviously in a much better mood. There was a hint of a smile in his obsidian eyes and the corners of his lips were slightly lifted. He carefully retracted his hand, touched his wet and messy long hair, and frowned in disgust. He walked to the door, took off the dirty cloak, shook it, and hung it on a wooden rack next to the door.

Only then did Mu Wanwan notice that there were a few wooden shelves behind the run-down wooden door. She watched as little Mister Long hung up the cloak fussily and also took a small comb made of an unidentifiable material to comb out his long hair.

He didn’t have a handkerchief or a towel, but he still managed to tidy himself into a presentable little dragon.

He was probably feeling a little cold; the soaked ears on his head kept trembling and only seemed to get better after he rubbed them several times.

Mu Wanwan’s eyes stung a little sour. Before the sky turned dark, she seized the opportunity to look around the room—

It was dark and it looked as run-down as it did on the outside.

But there was a door, a bed and a table.

The wooden door was tattered, and while the bed was quite big, one could tell at a glance that it was scavenged from the garbage heap. Stones were used to prop up a corner with a missing leg, and on it, was half a mattress and half a quilt that looked like it had been violently torn apart in a quarrel.

But he had taken good care of them— the edges had been carefully sewn up, and there was even a small and clean pillow on the bed.

As for the table, it seemed like it was handmade. It was crooked but was very sturdy. On it were two pieces of neatly folded clothes and his two eggs; the table was unexpectedly compatible with this ‘home’.

Yes, it was a home.

Little Mister Long’s home.

Mu Wanwan watched as he continued to tidy himself slowly and carefully, as if he didn’t care about the wound on his foot. Then, he walked to the table and took out the steamed bun that was hidden in his pocket.

The steamed bun looked very bad; it was a little green on the top and seemed like it had already gone mouldy, but it was very big and had no teeth marks, so it probably hadn’t been bitten by anyone.

Mu Wanwan watched him carefully peel off the skin that had gone green, gulped with some difficulty, then…

Tore off more than half of the bun and placed it next to the two eggs. “Daddy has brought you some food.”

After saying that, he initially wanted to eat, but after thinking about it, he put down the small piece of steamed bun he was holding, looked at the two eggs, and said perhaps in explanation, “I ate something yesterday, I’m not hungry.”

What nonsense— she could hear his stomach growling.

Again and again, very loudly.

Mu Wanwan couldn’t take it anymore; even if it was a dream, she wanted to wake up quickly.

This dream felt too realistic; she could even feel the wet and cold weather, hear raindrops hitting the shabby roof, and Mister Long’s hunger— even though nothing could be seen from his emotionless face.

But the embarrassing sounds coming from this dragon were really too much. It kept ringing in her ears and made her heart ache. She wanted nothing but to go up and stuff that steamed bun into this self-suffering dragon’s mouth, then tie him up and tend to his wounds.

The wounds on his face and hands were fine, but his feet and tail were still bleeding.

She really wanted to wake up quickly, but couldn’t even after pinching herself several times. She couldn’t do anything, and there was nothing she could do.

She could only stand in front of the table like Mister Long, who was pretending that he wasn’t hungry and staring at the two eggs.

Her eyes were getting red from looking at them.

It was gradually getting dark outside, and Mu Wanwan could hardly see anything anymore.

She was a little dejected and felt like she was simply worrying over nothing. After all, this was just a dream. If this dragon didn’t want to eat, so be it, and if he wanted to raise his spirit chicken eggs as his children, that was fine as well. Mu Wanwan felt around in the dark and sat on the edge of the bed, then lay down a little huffily and even hogged his pillow.

The bed was a little hard, but the pillow was soft. There was no odour, and only had a bit of little Mister Long’s smell, which was similar to that of the comatose Mister Long—it wasn’t an unpleasant smell.

Was this the smell of dragons?

Mu Wanwan couldn’t help rubbing against it a couple of times. When she realised what she was doing, her face turned red all at once.

Was she crazy?!

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