I Married a Disabled Tyrant After Transmigrating

Seventy-two Dragons (1)

In the late night, the intense emotions and the heart that was laden with suppressed feelings was palpable.

He kissed her lips repeatedly. Even though he only intended to part for a few days, merely to retrieve some belongings so that she didn’t have to work so hard, this dragon, who was accustomed to travelling alone in the dark, had become greedy and insatiable now.

He really, really couldn’t bear to leave her.

He got up and put on the clothes she bought for him, his slender fingers fastening the white fur cloak, resembling a general clad in invincible armour.

Gently, he tucked her in, just as she had done for him countless times.

On the table was Mengmeng’s nest and the paper and brush she used for her records. Mister Long gently spread out the paper, wanting to leave behind some words to let her know that he will return soon. However, when he was about to search for a blank space to write on, he caught a glimpse of her elegant handwriting—

“Mister Long, you truly are a good dragon.”

These words are nestled within the analysis of impurities of the various ingredients, distinct from the rest of the contents.

His narrow phoenix eyes widened slightly, a hint of surprise flashing in them. He was suddenly flustered, and his cheeks, covered in black and red patterns, instantly turned red.

Looking at the ink marks, it has been some time since they were written.

So…

Didn’t that mean that his wife already knew that it wasn’t the feathery chip who dismembered those spiritual plants?

His face burned, his heart pounded, and numerous reasonable speculations made Mister Long so embarrassed that he was about to turn into a lobster _(:3∠)_

She had known long ago. She had known he had regained consciousness. So, all the things he did that night… did she know about them too?

The handsome dragon’s face turned beet red, and he covered his cheeks with his large hands. Only his furry ears remained exposed, trembling back and forth, as if revealing the palpitations of his heart.

His blood seemed boiling hot—so, she knew. She knew it all.

Even so, she remained as gentle as ever, considerate of his feelings and not exposing him, just quietly, silently accommodating him.

Perhaps all the luck in his life had been spent on meeting her.

His eyes brimmed with the overwhelming love that could no longer be restrained, and in the dark room, a low, hoarse laugh sounded, startling Mengmeng awake.

Its big eyes flew wide open as it kicked its slender legs and nimbly rolled over to jump onto the table. It then locked eyes with a certain dragon whose eyes were flashing with golden light, and was scared out of its wits.

This dragon was really scary, it was probably insane. His terrifying face even had a smile that Mengmeng couldn’t comprehend—it was an extremely frightening smile. His eyes were even flickering with golden light… Ah, he’s so scary!

“Shh.” Seeing that Mengmeng was about to cry, Mister Long quickly squeezed its soft yellow beak shut. He was in an incredibly good mood, and with a low, hoarse voice, he said, “Real men don’t cry.”

Mengmeng blinked its round eyes and looked at him.

Mister Long looked at its pitiful face and the bald patches on its head that made it look much uglier than before. Still, his heart did not soften in the least. A bright light shot out from his fingertip onto Mengmeng’s head and he said, “During the few days I’m not here, you must protect Wanwan well.”

Mengmeng felt like its tiny brain was being filled with lots and lots of things by the terrifying dragon. Its two slender legs stiffened, and it fainted.

Mister Long smiled slightly. He took a brush and with a red face, began to write.

He paused for a long time after every stroke he made. It was unclear whether he was considering the contents or figuring out how to write so that his wife would not find his handwriting too ugly.

The ugly dragon wrote her name with utmost seriousness. After finishing the two characters, he couldn’t help but walk quietly to the bedside, kissing her on the corners of her lips, even devilishly extending his tongue to lick her lips.

Mu Wanwan didn’t react at all, but he was about to die from shyness.

After lingering around for a long time, Mister Long finally left.

The next morning, when Mu Wanwan woke up, she instinctively glanced at the side of the bed out of habit. The dragon, who usually slept there and would awkwardly wait for her to greet him, was nowhere to be found.

The space was empty, and there was nothing there.

Mu Wanwan, who had still been a little sleepy, was now wide awake.

Where was her dragon?

She rubbed her eyes, confirmed that there was really no Mister Long on the bed, and started to worry. She tried to reassure herself that he had probably recovered enough and pushed himself out on the wheelchair to the courtyard to wait for her.

She quickly got up and realized that her wheelchair was still parked neatly by the bed. The clothes and shoes she had bought for that dragon were gone.

Where had he gone?

Why didn’t he say anything to her?

Mu Wanwan hurriedly put on some clothes and began searching for Mister Long. She looked all over the palace but couldn’t find any sign of him.

“Your Majesty,” called Mu Wanwan. She was somewhat dazed as she reached the door, and her eyes welled up with tears—

Her dragon was missing.

He was nowhere to be found.

“Where did you go?” Panic filled Mu Wanwan’s heart as she walked back into the room, feeling somewhat absent-minded.

She sat down at the table, wanting to talk to Mengmeng. However, she noticed that the chubby little chirp was still unusually fast asleep today, and it seemed to be pressing down on something beneath its plump little body.