Yang Qing blinked a few times, then his eyes froze as they landed on the aged journal.
"Dragons?" he muttered incredulously. "He actually traveled around looking for dragons, phoenixes, kunpengs..."He didn't even get to finish the sentence. Shaking his head, he let out a wry smile.
The author(who clearly seemed like someone with little regard for their own safety, given what they'd been trying to do) was right about one thing: almost everyone, dragons excluded, had dreamt of riding one. Yang Qing was no exception.It was something he still secretly imagined even now, during those moments when he had some wine in him and felt that liquid courage stir up the daringness to dream.
