"Art thou willing?"
The Golden Loong's low inquiry was like a stone cast into still water, abruptly shattering the silence within the barrier.
Zhizhi was still immersed in the vast yet frigid "Logic" that the Golden Loong had just expounded. This sudden question left his utterly bewildered.
"Huh?" He looked up blankly, his eyes filled with confusion. "Hasn't this... already been decided?" The dream, the covenant—were they not already branded upon his soul? Was there truly room to turn back?
The Golden Loong did not answer immediately. Instead, It concentrated Its inner vision, carefully inspecting the defensive barrier surrounding them to ensure It was perfectly intact, sufficient to sever all outside prying.
In truth, as early as when Zhizhi was treating its soul injuries, it had quietly laid this barrier upon that scale—for this very moment.
"Hmm? The Golden Loong is actually guarding against Me?" Within the DivineRealm, the Beast God was precisely embedding a shimmering fragment of a puzzle into the void. Upon hearing this, Her movements paused slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing Her eyes.
Without a forced breakthrough, She truly could not perceive the conversation within the barrier. After a moment of deliberation, the Goddess ultimately gave up.
—If I force the barrier, the Golden Loong will surely suffer a backlash. I... cannot do that. Moreover, I trust It.
Within the barrier, the Golden Loong confirmed that the Beast God was not peeking. Only then did It lean down slightly, lowering Its voice even further, carrying a trace of undetectable complexity. "It should not have been thus. The order I received was originally only to heal thy wounds."
"The Great One has never forcibly required any living creature to do that which they are unwilling to do," the Golden Loong said, Its golden vertical pupils instinctively avoiding Zhizhi's gaze. In this matter, It had indeed acted with less than total transparency.
However, were time to flow backward, It would still make the same choice.
At this thought, It looked up again, Its golden eyes regaining their usual firmness and sharpness as It stared directly at Zhizhi. "Everything in the dream—how didst thou feel?"
That gaze was too direct, too heavy. Zhizhi's heart tightened, and he instinctively lowered his eyelids, not daring to meet Its eyes. He gripped the hem of his clothes, his knuckles turning pale from the force. "I want to vomit," he said hoarsely. "As soon as I close my eyes, I hear the sound of wooden splinters being driven into bone marrow. It is a living hell."
The Golden Loong looked down at him, Its pupils cold as a golden abyss. "Thou hast experienced it but once. But The Great One is different. The wails of ten thousand beasts are Her very breath; the pain of all animals enters Her very marrow. Every fox flayed alive, every elephant whose tusks are sawn off—their sensations of pain are transmitted synchronously to Her Godhead. Every minute, every second, She is being torn apart by ten thousand beasts."
"Wha... What?!" Upon hearing this, Zhizhi snapped his head up, staring back at the Golden Loong in shock. The previous fear was instantly forgotten in the face of this immense astonishment.
His lips trembled as he asked, almost inarticulately, "Every... every moment?" That heart-shredding agony, that suffocating despair... the Great Beast God... feels it all personally? And... it is constant?
The Golden Loong slowly lowered Its eyelids, Its tone carrying an indescribable weight and mercy. "Yes, every moment. And it is only more, never less."
BOOM—
Zhizhi felt a roar in his head, as if the entire world were spinning; he could hardly breathe. That dream—he had felt it only once and was already in such agony that he wanted to die. Had there not been a sliver of obsession in his heart, he might have given up long ago, allowing himself to fall into endless darkness.
—The Great Beast God... How has She endured this day after day? And... why must She bear all of this?
As if seeing through the in his heart, the Golden Loong continued: "The Great One is the Goddess of all beasts in the heavens, and the Primordial Ancestor of ten thousand beasts. If beasts exist, She remains; if beasts perish, She also... falls. The path She walks is to personally witness and comprehend the hearts of ten thousand beasts, thereby forging Her supreme Godhead. But at the same time..."
Its golden loong's eyes brightened slightly, flashing with a complex light. "This is also a double-edged sword."
"A double-edged sword..." Zhizhi murmured, repeating the words. His heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an invisible hand, adding a heavy sense of powerlessness even greater than the pain in the dream. He looked at the Golden Loong's lowered head, Its golden scales glinting coldly in the shadows. The loong's words were colder than jade buried at the bottom of the deep sea.
"So... so the Great Beast God is because She must... feel the pain of all animals, that's why..." Zhizhi's voice was dry. He finally understood where that marrow-deep despair had come from.
This was not the suffering of a single animal, but the sum of thousands upon thousands of living souls struggling, wailing, and dying within the cycle of reincarnation.
He recalled the shattered fragments within the dream: the terror in the eyes of a fawn hunted by predators, the sorrowful howl of a lone wolf as a barbed hook pierced its flesh, the despair of those fighting for survival in the colosseum... every emotion was like a needle driven deep into the marrow of his soul.
And the Beast God actually endured all of this every single moment—and even more.
"Why... why must it be so..." Zhizhi's voice carried a heavy sob, his eyes so red they looked as if they might bleed. That deep grief and bewilderment remained, yet he stubbornly refused to let a single tear fall.
In his heart, he asked himself in despair: If it were me, I know... I could not do it. It is impossible to endure such pain day after day, let alone take all the suffering of the animals upon myself. I... I only want to live... happily and without pain.
—Was such a simple wish a luxury for The Great Goddess?
The Golden Loong watched him silently, the emotions in Its golden vertical pupils difficult to discern. "If She so desired, with Her divine power, She could naturally sever the connection with the myriad beasts and live henceforth in peace."
"Then why?!" Zhizhi snapped his head up, his voice sharp with a near-shattering interrogation. "Why does She not do so?!" Liberation was right there!
"Because... She cannot." The Golden Loong slowly closed Its loong eyes, which had once flashed with complex light. When they opened again, only a bottomless weight and solemnity remained. It spoke in a deep voice: "The fate of the beasts in this realm was long ago determined. Born of heaven and earth, their souls are inherently fragile, easily devoured by hardship and destroyed by despair. She needs to... help thee bear a portion of the pain and divert a part of the calamity, thereby... protecting thy souls that hover on the brink of shattering."
"This is Her... destiny and responsibility as the Beast God." The Golden Loong's voice was not loud, yet every word carried the weight of a thousand pounds. "It is not a lack of will, but rather... an impossibility. Once She lets go, the spiritual wisdom of the myriad beasts will likely perish, one by one, amidst endless suffering."
"Furthermore... the time remaining for TheGreat One is already short..." The GoldenLoong's voice dropped even lower, carrying an unprecedented sense of urgency, as if the very air had stagnated because of It.
Knock, knock, knock—
A sudden knocking at the door rang out, like a clap of thunder interrupting the heavy, suffocating conversation within the barrier.
Though the barrier could sever prying eyes, it could not freeze time. During their long conversation, the sky outside the window had neared evening. The afterglow of the setting sun painted the sky in a magnificent yet eerie crimson; half the firmament looked as if it had been splashed with thick blood, or as if the karmic fires of hell were burning fiercely, casting shadows upon the people in the room and adding a hint of ill omen.
The pet expert, who had been sitting to the side and was completely unaware of the conversation due to the barrier, was momentarily stunned by the sound. Seeing the Golden Loong give a slight nod of permission, he rose and walked toward the door.
Outside was Tian Shuangxin. One hand carried two cardboard boxes tied with cloth straps, while the other held several heavy thermal lunch boxes. Fine beads of sweat covered her brow, evident that she had rushed all the way here.
As soon as the door opened, TianShuangxin's gaze was immediately drawn to the familiar back in the ward—Zhizhi, standing by the mother's bed.
She froze for a second, and then an immense joy erupted on her face. She almost shouted out: "Zhizhi!"
She hurried forward, ignoring the "clink and clank" of the boxes and lunch pails colliding in her frantic movement.
"You're awake! You're finally awake!" She ran to Zhizhi, looking him up and down, her eyes full of the joy and concern of regaining what was lost.
However, upon seeing Zhizhi's swollen eyes, his red nose, and the traces of sobbing that had not yet fully faded from his face, her joy was instantly replaced by worry.
She reached out, wanting to touch his forehead, asking urgently, "Zhizhi, what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell? Tell Mama—I'll go call the doctor for you right now, okay?" Her voice was filled with maternal anxiety and tenderness.
Zhizhi remained silent, simply staring at her for a long time. Complex emotions swirled within his clear eyes—grievance, longing, and a faint, undetectable confusion.
Then, he took a step forward, his small frame hugging Tian Shuangxin tightly, his voice carrying an irrepressible sob. "I'm fine, Mama. I just... I just missed you..."
As Zhizhi embraced Tian Shuangxin, the fragrance of strawberries at her nose clashed with the lingering scent of blood in her mind. Her gaze drifted over TianShuangxin's shoulder toward the hovering Golden Loong. Her small mouth opened slightly, and she let out another soft call: "Mama..." This time, the word carried a hint of inquiry.
Tian Shuangxin's heart tightened. She quickly returned the embrace, patting Zhizhi's back and responding softly, "I'm here, I'm here, Zhizhi. Mama is right here. I only stepped away for a moment to go back and make your favorite strawberry crackers." She spoke while trying to soothe the child's visibly unsettled emotions.
Remembering her task, she let out a soft "ah" of realization. She set down the box she was carrying, freed her hands, and carefully opened the insulated lunch container. A sweet, inviting aroma of strawberries instantly filled the air. "Look, they're still warm! They smell so good—do you want to eat some now, Zhizhi?" Her face was filled with gentle expectation.
Zhizhi didn't answer immediately, nor did he look at the tempting crackers. His head tilted slightly, still watching the Golden Loong. His clear eyes were full of wonder: Why does Mama seem completely unable to see such a massive dragon? It's right there, glowing so brightly.
"Under the intervention of My divine power, a mortal such as she naturally cannot perceive My true form unless I choose to reveal Myself proactively," the GoldenLoong's deep, majestic voice rang directly within Zhizhi's mind, explaining her doubt.
Zhizhi nodded thoughtfully, her small brow smoothing out as she signaled her understanding. However, this nod was interpreted by Tian Shuangxin as a signal of the child's eagerness to eat the crackers.
Her maternal affection deepened. She picked up a small, delicately crafted strawberry cookie. The size of these cookies followed Zhizhi's old preference from when she was still a tiny fancy rat—just the right size for a single bite. Tian Shuangxin tenderly held it to her lips. "Here, Zhizhi, try Mama's cooking. Is it still the taste you love?"
Cracker crumbs fell onto his clothes, the strawberry scent masking the medicinal smell of the ward. To the side, the GoldenLoong watched the bite of crackers, a flash of nostalgia for the Beast God's own gentle feedings eons ago flickering in its golden pupils.
—How long has it been? It has been a very long time since I acted so spoiled.
As memories flooded back, the loong's thoughts drifted far away to a time when a still-youthful voice had called out: "Little Golden Loong, art thou watching them eat fruit? Dost thou desire some for thyself?"
"Hmph!"
"Here, take it, little one. There is no need to envy other Divine Beasts; I can fetch thee more..."
"Why...?"
"Because My heart moves with thine! I love to see thee happy."
Watching the distant sun slowly bury itself beneath the horizon, the Golden Loong made a silent vow:
—The Great One, Golden Loong will never let any harm come to Thee.