I Married A Disabled Tyrant After Transmigrating

Twenty-three Dragons (2)

However, when Mu Wanwan woke up the next morning and found that she was actually holding Mister Long’s hand, she was still very embarrassed.

Her sleeping posture was still very good.
As she was worried that she would touch Mister Long’s tail, she had kept herself curled up.
It was just this hand—she did not know how it happened, but it had somehow crossed the line.

Mu Wanwan didn’t know that a certain dragon who was now unconscious but was awake last night was actually rather pleased.
She quickly let go of Mister Long’s hand and got up hastily.

It was still raining outside, but the sky was already bright.
Mu Wanwan got up to boil some water and dealt with the housework, then checked on the burning grass seedlings she cultivated yesterday.
The first small burning grass seedling she cultivated seemed to have grown only by a little in the night, but the other dozen-odd seedlings had grown significantly.

Mu Wanwan spent one-tenth of her spiritual energy to briefly deal with the twenty burning grasses.
She then checked and found that the two low-grade spirit stones beside Mister Long’s pillow were still intact, and was relieved.

She fetched a basin of hot water, cut a small slice of ginseng, and prepared to help Mister Long wash his face and brush his teeth, apply some medicine on his tail, then replace the slice of ginseng in his mouth. 

“Mister Long, it’s time to apply the medicine.” As she didn’t like the overwhelming silence of being alone all the time, Mu Wanwan still chose to treat Mister Long as a conversation partner.

His tail was much better than yesterday; he had a strong self-healing ability, Mu Wanwan helped to apply more ointment on him, washed her hands clean, then slowly drew closer to Mister Long’s mouth.

Mu Wanwan watched her fingers get closer and closer to his beautifully-shaped purple lips, and a twinge of guilt suddenly arose in her heart.
What the hell was with this illusion that she was about to take advantage of an obedient baby dragon? 

No matter what, the ginseng slice needed to be replaced.

Besides, she had already done this yesterday, so why was she feeling uneasy now?

Mu Wanwan took a deep breath, gently squeezed Mister Long’s chin with one hand, and slowly put her fingers in.

His teeth were a little sharp, and his tongue was very soft…

Mu Wanwan’s face was a little red.
She quickly took out the ginseng slice that had almost been completely depleted of its spiritual energy, picked up the mouth cleaning apparatus she had prepared and helped Mister Long clean his teeth speedily, then stuffed in a new ginseng slice.

When she was done with all this, the warm feeling at her fingertips that belonged exclusively to Mister Long’s tongue still hadn’t receded.
Mu Wanwan was a little dizzy; wanting to stay away from this comatose dragon, she changed her clothes, took the umbrella, and went to the yard to dig up soil.

That morning, in addition to handling various chores, she also cultivated five burning grass seeds and dug up enough soil.
After lunch, she began concentrating on the cultivation of the Bixing grass seeds.

The Bixing grass seeds were slightly larger and harder than the burning grass seeds.

Worried that the Bixing grass seedlings would repel each other when planted together, Mu Wanwan specially prepared many small pots, each of which was filled with soil and a little bit of the spiritual soil from Uncle Zong.

She picked up a Bixing grass seed, and based on her experience of cultivating burning grass seeds in the past two days, began to slowly guide the spiritual energy from her dantian into the seed.

With the experience of yesterday’s failure, she didn’t hold back this time and kept channelling spiritual energy into it.
But perhaps she didn’t use the right method, this time, when she had channelled about a third of her spiritual energy, the seed in her palm exploded abruptly.

The small particles that had burst apart smacked onto her face, as if laughing at her presumptuousness.　　

Mu Wanwan, “…”

She gathered up the corpse of this seed rather painfully; one failure cost her five copper coins! 

She took another one.
This time, she was much more careful than before, and did not channel a large amount of spiritual energy at one go.
She only channelled in about one-fifth of her spiritual energy, then stopped. 

However, that seed still did not show much change, and was not at all like when she was cultivating burning grass.
Mu Wanwan sighed and buried this second Bixing grass seed in the soil that was mixed with spiritual soil.
Then, before she had channelled in any more spiritual energy, the seed’s shell quickly broke, and two tender green buds pushed up through the mud shakily.

Mu Wanwan was very pleasantly surprised.
She looked at the tender little buds and her heart grew warm.
She couldn’t help but reach out and touch the little seedling.
This wasn’t a Bixing grass seedling at all, this was a quarter of a low-grade spirit stone! 

She felt as if she had grasped the correct way to cultivate Bixing grass.
So, with the third seed, she first planted it in the spiritual soil, then guided the wood spiritual energy within her body and channelled it in slowly. 

It went very smoothly this time.
She only used one-sixth of her spiritual energy before she saw the Bixing grass seedling sprout tremblingly.

Mu Wanwan’s eyes were bright.
Although there wasn’t much spiritual energy left within her, she still managed to gather up a bit and cultivated one more seed.
She was successful yet again.

Mu Wanwan felt that it must be that the seeds Uncle Zong had picked for her were all good seeds, so her success rates were so alarmingly high.
Apart from the Bixing grass seed that had exploded from being infused with too much spiritual energy, the success rate after that was very high.
Could it be that her spiritual energy was especially liked by plants? But the original body had also cultivated plants casually before, and the success rate had indeed not been so high then.

Mu Wanwan looked at the three pots of small seedlings and the large pot of burning grass placed side by side on the windowsill and broke out in a genuine smile.
No matter what the reason, if she could maintain this cultivation speed and success rate, she would be able to earn around twenty low-grade spirit stones by the time her next trip came about. 

Perhaps, if Uncle Zong was amenable, she could try to trade for a medium-grade spirit stone.
It should be of great help to Mister Long’s body, and he might even be able to wake up sooner. 

The buds swayed slightly on the windowsill; Mu Wanwan had new expectations for both her own and Mister Long’s lives in the future.