Chapter 26: Becoming a Concubine

Men love to talk about war.
Bring up war, and inevitably you’re talking about the recent Wutu Uprising.
Mention Wutu, and you can’t help but think of Yongcheng. Name Yongcheng, and there’s no escaping Lady Li Yunzhi. And once she’s in the conversation, it spirals out of control.

Once so radiant—wisdom, courage, beauty all fused into one blazing light that shone across the entire Zulong City-State—she’d been brought down by something so petty during the suppression of Wutu.

“Reputation tainted, authority lost. No authority, no command. The goddess of Zulong was dragged from her pedestal by some common rabble,” sighed a slender young man holding a scroll, shaking his head as he watched a group of rowdy students hurl insults like stones.

Nan Lingsha noticed more people gathering around the reading pavilion. She shot a sharp glare at Zhu Minglang—eyes narrowed, lips tight—like a silent *I’ll deal with you later*.

Without her veil, people would only see a beautiful woman.
But few had actually seen Li Yunzhi up close. Otherwise, even the thin silk wouldn’t have been enough to shield her from the stares. If Nan Lingsha looked just like her sister, she’d probably be hiding indoors too.

Watching her go, Zhu Minglang let out a quiet breath—and began thinking.

She was also at the Dragon Taming Academy. How exactly was he supposed to coexist peacefully with this little sister-in-law?

To be honest, being that close to her? His heart still skipped a beat. They were too similar. Even now, Zhu Minglang couldn’t shake the suspicion: *Could it really be Li Yunzhi herself, using her sister’s name to test him?*

But surely the Lady Sovereign wouldn’t do something so childish.

Still… seeing her twin sister was like seeing Li Yunzhi herself standing before him again. A pang of longing crept in.

*What kind of woman is Li Yunzhi, really? She didn’t kill me in anger. Is she truly as gentle as Nan Lingsha claims?*

Zhu Minglang couldn’t read her mind. Everything about her was buried too deep.

But if fate was going to play cruel games with them both, then she shouldn’t have to bear it alone. No matter how fearsome she was on the battlefield, she still had her soft spots.

He needed to become strong—truly strong—as a Dragon Shepherd. Whether or not she wanted him to shoulder the burden was another matter.
But if feelings were real, he couldn’t keep hiding behind her forever.

He had to earn the strength to carry that responsibility.

…

Dragon Shepherds weren’t particularly powerful—especially those without dragons. Without a dragon, they weren’t much better than ordinary soldiers.

The dragon was always the key.

Bai Qi was growing fast. By late autumn, it would enter its growth phase and transform into a true dragon—likely reaching the level of a Dragon Son.

But that wasn’t enough.

Lu Xiao’s Golden Flame Dragon was already a Dragon General. And yet, even that beast trembled before the Li family patriarch.

Whether Zulong had any Dragon Kings was uncertain. But Dragon Lords? Definitely.

*Small goal: Reach Dragon Lord rank.*
Zhu Minglang muttered it aloud as he stepped out of the pavilion.

More eyes followed him now—curious, suspicious.

“Another one turning his dragon mad.”
“Choosing a dragon is like picking a gemstone—you can lose everything. Hope this guy doesn’t end up staring at the sky from the top of the towering Wei Tower…”

Survival meant money. And right now, he was broke.

Besides silkworm farming, Zhu Minglang had one inherited skill: forging armor.

Armor was clothing to the common folk. A war machine for the elite. To a dragon, it was life-or-death protection in battle.

Take Little Crocling—already naturally strong. Give it a heavy set of dragon armor, and that dazzling back-slash strike? It would’ve torn through the belly of a rage catfish with ease. One clean kill.

Dragon armor was insanely expensive. Most Dragon Shepherds spent their fortunes just raising their beasts. Few could afford armor on top of that.

But if you wanted to be a great Dragon Shepherd, armor was non-negotiable.
It boosted power. It saved lives when it mattered most.

Forging was part of Zhu Minglang’s bloodline. The techniques were etched into his mind, never forgotten. As a son of the Zhu clan, he felt ashamed—he’d need to spend a fortune buying gear for his dragon. That would dishonor his ancestors.

So he’d forge it himself.

And maybe even make some coin doing it.

The Dragon Taming Academy had no forge. Neither did Fengdi Town. Only in the bustling heart of Zulong City-State could he find proper facilities.

Morning to night. Back home exhausted. First, craft fine armor for nobles. Once materials came in, skills sharpened—then build a full crocodile-dragon heavy suit for Heiya.

…

That was the plan: wake early, return late.
Day one of forging left Zhu Minglang feeling like every bone in his body had snapped. After years of lazy living, his strength was gone. Relearning this craft nearly killed him.

He had to admit—there was a moment, when sweat poured down his face and his arms burned, that he seriously considered accepting Fang Nian’s offer: *Sell peaches.*

She’d whispered the secret boat code to him once: *Afu, I don’t want to fight anymore.*

Day two, he stood between a gilded river barge and a forge. He chose the forge. Dragged himself forward, muscles screaming.

Though born into a family of master smiths, Zhu Minglang had never wanted this path. Maybe his family had known all along he’d be trouble. They’d forced every technique into his skull anyway. Now, looking back, he was glad they had.

But craftsmanship wasn’t just about knowledge—it demanded skill, precision, and the physical endurance to match.

He started as an apprentice. Slowly, painfully, he relearned the rhythm of hammer and fire.

And he had to move fast. He couldn’t afford to waste time. He needed to master the full process of crafting a complete dragon-heavy armor set—faster than ever before.

Day three: keep going.

Sharp swords come from grinding. Plum blossoms bloom after bitter cold. Stay true to yourself.

If he didn’t reclaim this craft, he’d have no choice but to sell his looks—his youth, his charm—to survive.

…

Time flew. After half a month as a forge apprentice, Zhu Minglang began to feel like himself again.

Now he could finish a full set of soldier-grade armor. That meant income—real money, earned through sweat.

Of course, soldier armor barely paid the bills.
To cover expenses, he needed to craft high-quality gear—sold to officers, nobles.

But if he ever forged a true dragon armor? That was the start of real wealth.

…

Late autumn approached.

These past few days, Zhu Minglang hadn’t visited the city’s forge—not because he was slacking off, but because he’d promised Teacher Duan Lan a trip.

*Ahem.* Not “roll in the hay”—but *raise clouds and rain*!

It was a field study. Heading east, to distant cities. A real journey. Needed preparation.

This wasn’t for the greenhorns still stuck beneath the Dragon Gate.
No. This was for actual Dragon Shepherd trainees—those who already had real dragons.