Chapter 22: Crocodile Bait

“Teacher, is that Ice-Crystal White Dragon using the Azure Dragon Mystic Art? Is the mystic art stronger?” a student asked, practically bouncing with anticipation.

段岚老师 shook her head, her gaze settling not on the student, but on Zhong Minglang—and more specifically, on the tiny white dragon cradled in his arms.

“Earlier I said it’s an Ice-Crystal White Dragon,” she began, voice calm and precise. “Its primary bloodline is Azure Dragon, secondary is Ancient Dragon. During combat, it uses Wind and Ice magic—no Mystic Art was employed.”

No Mystic Art?

This Ice-Crystal White Dragon had Azure Dragon as its main bloodline—its Mystic Art should’ve been far more powerful!

Which meant… it was holding back its true potential!

Even so, a juvenile Greenwood Dragon couldn’t stand a chance against it?

That was ridiculous—borderline absurd!

Nan Ye, busy bandaging his own green dragon, froze mid-motion. His hand slipped—hard.

The little dragon yelped instantly, whether from emotional trauma or actual pain, no one could say.

Zhong Minglang suddenly realized all eyes were locked onto him.

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

Truth be told, he hadn’t even noticed this detail himself.

It wasn’t that Bai Qi *wasn’t* using its Mystic Art—it just hadn’t awakened yet. It had only just emerged from the ice cocoon. The power was dormant, waiting to bloom.

“Bai Qi never used Ancient Dragon magic before,” Zhong Minglang murmured to himself.

The regression wasn’t just decay—it felt like rebirth. A transformation.

The Ice-Crystal White Dragon’s bloodline was superior to even the Azure Dragon. When Bai Qi matured, its strength would dwarf what it had ever been before.

Azure Dragon Mystic Art.

Right now, it hadn’t awakened. That meant it wouldn’t manifest until the growth phase.

And that made early-stage care absolutely critical. Get it right, and Bai Qi might awaken an incredibly powerful Mystic Art. Get it wrong—starve it, neglect it—and the ability might never surface at all.

Primary bloodlines usually outshine secondary ones. And Bai Qi already showed off stunning Wind and Ice magic. What would its Azure Dragon Mystic Art be like?

Zhong Minglang found himself genuinely excited.

“Oh no,” he suddenly realized. “I don’t have much honey left. Not enough for a full month of feeding.”

He and Xiao Hei had worked hard for that single grain of golden sand. Half of it bought honey—but that honey would barely last a week. Now that he knew Bai Qi’s lineage, he was certain it needed something more spiritually potent to help trigger its awakening.

“I should ask Teacher Duan Lan about this later,” he thought. “She seems to know a lot about Ice-Crystal White Dragons.”

He’d once thought his knowledge was enough to skip class. But now he saw—learning never ends. Maybe he should come back to the academy more often.

……

Duan Lan taught with serious focus—no smiles, no idle chatter. Every question was answered directly. For once, Zhong Minglang listened intently, absorbing her detailed breakdown of dragon bloodlines and lineages.

Unfortunately, she didn’t cover feeding or rearing techniques. Probably outside today’s scope.

By noon, class finally ended.

As soon as the bell rang, Hong Hao and a few roommates swarmed over.

Hong Hao—usually arrogant and loud—was grinning like a fool, unusually humble, though still radiating that annoying “I’m too cool for you” vibe.

“Just looking at you, Zhong Brother, I knew you were a rare gem among men,” he declared dramatically. “One little test, and sure enough—Nan Ye? His green dragon? Pfft. Compared to you, they’re a disgrace to our Qingfeng Dorm!”

Zhong Minglang offered a polite, distant smile—then turned and walked briskly toward where Duan Lan had disappeared.

“From now on, I’ll handle all your cleaning—front and back rooms! If you need anything else, just name it, brother! Being in the same dorm? That’s fate!” Hong Hao called after him, voice booming with fake warmth.

Then, without warning, he slapped Li Shaoying hard on the shoulder and squeezed.

“Li Shaoying, Li Shaoying,” he grinned. “Trying to climb Nan Ye’s ladder, huh? Want to break up the dorm unity? Then you’re scrubbing every floor in the entire building!”

Li Shaoying wanted to cry.

Why did you act so poor when you first arrived? Why did you look so clueless in the Dragon Vault? That whole performance was *too* convincing…

Under the maple trees, along the ink-black path, Duan Lan wasn’t riding the academy’s assigned pseudo-bird. Instead, she carried the textbook she’d used in class, walking slowly, deliberately.

Zhong Minglang jogged up, only to find another man had reached her first—a man in fine silk robes, clearly a teacher.

Zhong Minglang hesitated. Should he interrupt?

But Duan Lan noticed him.

“Anything unclear from today’s lesson, Zhong Minglang?” she asked, turning slightly.

Relief washed over him. He stepped forward quickly.

The man in silk looked like a senior instructor—calm, composed, respectful. He waited quietly, not intruding.

“I’m still unsure about feeding,” Zhong Minglang said. “Specifically, what’s best for my dragon’s development?”

Duan Lan listened carefully. The other teacher remained silent, showing proper decorum.

“In this season,” she said, “there’s a flower called Frost-Snow Tree Blossom. Its nectar is ideal for your dragon’s growth. But harvesting it is tricky—these flowers are guarded by large swarms of Winter Bee Spirits. You might want to hire someone with gold to do it for you.”

Zhong Minglang grimaced.

Gold? He didn’t have any.

“Teacher,” he said, “I’m broke. Any alternatives?”

“I have some,” she replied. “But even a teacher can’t give things away for free. How about this: In a few weeks, I’ll be leading a group of pastoral dragon students to Ronggu City to perform Xingyun Rainmaking. Help me with some errands, and the jar of Frost-Snow Blossom Nectar will be your reward.”

Xingyun Rainmaking—the Azure Dragon Mystic Art.

A powerful technique. Duan Lan was clearly strong.

“Sure, yes—absolutely!” Zhong Minglang nodded eagerly. This was perfect.

Frost-Snow Blossom Nectar was worth far more than ordinary honey. He’d been desperate for a way to earn money.

“You come with me,” Duan Lan said. “If you need it urgently, I can get it for you now.”

With that, she smiled faintly—then turned politely to the man in silk.

“Master Ke Bei, your words will stay with me. I’ll take my student to retrieve something first.”

“Of course,” Ke Bei replied, gentle and courteous.

Zhong Minglang bowed respectfully, then waited until Ke Bei turned away before tilting his head slightly, watching Duan Lan.

Was she flirting?

Did she *want* him to linger near her—so she could politely reject Ke Bei?

Clearly, Ke Bei had waited for her to finish class.

And somehow, Zhong Minglang got the benefit—early access to the precious nectar.

“Where’s your Crocodile Spirit?” Duan Lan asked.

“Resting in the backyard,” Zhong Minglang answered.

“Do me one more favor,” she said.

“No problem,” he said, nodding.