Baijiazhai Village.

A heavy storm had just passed, but the air was still stifling hot. Cicadas cried high on branches, restless and loud.

“Zhi liao, zhi liao!”

Green hills, clear waters, cotton-like clouds.

At the village entrance, a big yellow dog lay lazily in the shade, eyes squinting, half-asleep.

By a privately contracted pond, the water had risen to the banks. Lucas Anderson, shirtless and sweating, was covered in mud, digging a drainage channel with curses spilling from his mouth.

“Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof!” The dog barked again, hungry and growing impatient.

You might not be starving, but this dog sure is.

He dreamed of devouring two pots of meat, but they vanished like smoke—must’ve been fake meat.

“Stop yapping. Let me finish this ditch and I’ll head back,” Lucas muttered, annoyed.

His father had contracted two ponds. Lately, water had been spilling over nonstop, strange waves appearing now and then. No telling how many fish were left. Judging by the fingerlings swimming in nearby fields and ditches, most had already escaped.

Some folks said it was an underground stream forced up by a recent quake. Others claimed the constant rain filled mountain springs, pushing water through cracks straight into the ponds.

Whatever the case, Lucas had to divert the water into the gully across the road.

He’d set up a net halfway through the trench, but fish were still slipping through. Just then, a golden Goia fish swam past at lightning speed, stopping right in front of him.

Goia fish. Spiteful little things. One had already pierced his hand earlier with its spines. Still, Lucas reached out on instinct and grabbed this one.

It gave another jab as he closed his grip. Blood trickled down his palm.

Cursing under his breath, he hurled it into a metal bucket nearby, sending the other fish flopping in panic.

“Damn, that hurt like hell.”

Pressing his hand, he stepped into cleaner water near the pond nets to wash off the blood.

Splash. Splash.

The fish inside the net were in a frenzy, seemingly fighting over something.

A wooden pole holding the net leaned dangerously. Frowning, Lucas shooed them away, lifted the net, and spotted something strange.

A golden bead, fist-sized, with swirling symbols crawling across its surface like they were alive.

“What the heck is this? Pearls don't come this big,” Lucas murmured, lifting it for a closer look.

Suddenly, his hand flared with pain. Blood streamed from his palm, drawn into the orb like a sponge.

“Ah—” Lucas gasped, frozen in shock. He tried dropping it, but it clung to him like it had a will of its own.

The big yellow dog sprang to its feet, ears perked.

“Woof?” A curious bark.

What’s going on now? Time to head back and eat?

Wait, why’s Lucas just standing there like that? Stiff as a board. Is this a new game? The “don’t move” game?

I’m good at that.

Lucas felt his blood draining fast. His heart pounded wildly. Dizziness closed in—he thought he might die right there.

Just as he was about to black out, the bead flared and a translucent golden dragon burst from it, shooting straight into his chest.

With a heavy thud, Lucas collapsed into the muddy ditch, unconscious.

The big yellow dog stared, dumbfounded.

What in the world?

Lucas lost already?

Did I see that right?

The dog dashed over and tried to pull Lucas out of the mud. He couldn't move him far, but managed to drag his upper body out of the sludge.The yellow mutt pressed his ear to Lucas Anderson’s chest, listening—there was still a heartbeat. He wanted to bolt for help, but paused, afraid something might happen if he left his master alone.

Nervous, he circled Lucas again and again.

“Come on, wake up.”

“You win this time, alright? Just open your eyes.”

“Master… master…”

After a few more turns, its stomach growled louder. It fished a black carp from the metal bucket, biting into it while keeping one eye on Lucas.

“Smells good. Wake up and I’ll split it with you.”

“Well… maybe after one more fish, I’ll save you half.”

Meanwhile, Lucas drifted in a fog-shrouded space. A massive golden dragon lay asleep before him, its size unimaginable—like the whole sky could only fit this creature.

Suddenly, the dragon opened its eyes—two orbs glowing like stars, locking onto him.

“The Dragon Soul stands eternal, the Dragon Clan shall not fade. Inherit!”

A brilliant beam burst from its gaze, wrapping around Lucas.

In that instant, endless knowledge poured into his mind. Each fragment stabbed like a knife, his head nearly bursting from the pain.

Over and over, he heard the same line: “The Dragon Soul stands eternal, the Dragon Clan shall not fade. Inherit!”

Then… he became the dragon. With every breath, lightning crashed, thunder roared, the world tilted.

“Ah!” Lucas jerked awake, half lying in the muddy ditch. The dog was beside him, chomping on a fish.

It felt like a dream… but the pounding in his skull said otherwise.

He rubbed his temples. A flood of information surged in, too chaotic to grasp. But one image stuck—a golden dragon, etched right into his mind.

“What the hell…? Did I get possessed in broad daylight?” Lucas scrambled to his feet, checked his hand. No wound. No sign he ever got jabbed by that thorn-finned Goya fish.

And that golden pearl? Gone.

“Golden coin, what was that all about…” He looked around. The village edge was empty. Not even a cicada chirped. Deathly quiet.

He remembered the elders’ tales—midday was the worst time. Spirits liked to show up and mess with folks.

Woof! The yellow dog stood up, gripping the half-finished fish, and dashed away.

Lucas's voice must’ve scared him. Maybe he thought his food was in danger.

“Tch, you little traitor. Wait for me!”

Lucas wasn’t about to stay out there alone either. He rechecked the net, slung the shovel over his shoulder, grabbed the bucket and took off running.

Forget this. Time to eat first.

Everyone else was home having lunch. Him out here, digging alone? Foolish.

Their house sat in the middle of the village. A single courtyard, flat land.

Three rooms with gray brick walls and dark tile roofs, two small stove rooms at the side, smoke curling up from the kitchen.

Flat yard in the front, where they kept chickens, ducks, and geese. A back patch grew cucumbers, tomatoes, beans, and peppers.

By Baijiazhai standards, their home ranked middle to upper-class.

Lots of families still lived in dirt huts with straw roofs, the poverty out there plain as day.

“Mom, I’m back.” Lucas stepped into the yard and headed straight for the big basin by the well, scrubbing the mud off his arms and legs.

Grace Mitchell’s voice called out from the kitchen, “Why’d you come back this late? Even if every fish in those ponds ran off, you don’t have to kill yourself over it. Look at your dad—works himself to death, and for what?”

Before Lucas could answer, his father Howard Anderson’s cough rang out from the main room.“*Cough, cough*... Grace, don’t say it like that. I just got caught in the rain and cut my foot. Bit of bad luck, that’s all. Wasn’t that tiring… *cough*...”

“Oh, cut the crap. Whatever, I’m done arguing. Lucas, food’s ready. Come inside.”

As she spoke, Grace Mitchell was already setting dishes on the table in the main hall, rice steaming hot in bowls.

Since Lucas Anderson was home, the meal was nicer than usual—fish stew, chicken with wild mushrooms, smashed cucumber with garlic, and tomato egg soup.

The rice was from their own paddy fields—just lifting the lid made the whole room smell amazing.

Lucas had been back for over ten days and already put on a few pounds.

The big yellow dog reeked of fish and shuffled over, eyes locked on the pot of chicken and mushrooms. Its mouth practically drooled with tears.

Y’all really forgot about your cutest family member?

I only had one... okay, maybe two—or at most three—fish today, and that’s it!

“Get away from the table—stop rubbing around here. I’ll toss you a bone later.” Grace kicked the dog aside.

Howard Anderson’s foot was still injured and she didn’t want the dog bumping into it.

Lucas gave the dog a look of helpless pity. The chicken barely fed the people—if he dared feed some to the dog, his mother wouldn’t hesitate to beat him with a stick.

After gnawing on a chicken leg, Lucas tossed the bone over to the dog.

With some food in his belly, Lucas finally asked, “Why not have Grandpa take a look?”

Grace got mad right away. “Forget it. Your grandpa’s a damn old con. Tricking others is one thing—I wouldn’t let him near your dad.”

Howard was more tactful. “He’s an old village doctor. No real license. More of a barefoot doctor, really. If he cures you, it’s luck. If not, well, that’s normal. I’d rather get someone from the town clinic.”

Awkward silence.

Lucas stopped talking and dug in. He felt famished today—downed three big bowls of rice, wiped out all the dishes, and still felt a little hungry.

The big yellow dog sat by the doorway with eyes full of betrayal, glaring at him.

Just a few bones? That’s all you think I’m worth?

Lucas tossed it a couple of cold steamed buns. Only then did the dog stop looking at him like that.

So much weird stuff had happened that day, Lucas didn’t dare bring it up to his parents.

His head still throbbed now and then. He told them he was going to nap and lay down.

Hot day like this, a nap would help recharge.

As soon as he hit the bed, he passed out cold.

What he didn’t know was that a faint golden glow had started pulsing from his chest, spreading slowly through his body, strengthening it bit by bit.

His mind drifted back into fog and shadows, into the same cloudy space as before.

The enormous golden dragon was gone—but there was a smaller one, maybe three or four meters long, flying playfully in the sky.

“By my command—bring the clouds, summon the rain—Lingyu Spell!”

A childish dragon’s voice rang out, oddly rhythmic. The sky suddenly went dark with clouds, lightning split the skies.

Torrential rain came crashing down.

The little golden dragon darted and danced through the storm, thrilled.

Then it spotted Lucas.

With a flash, it dove straight at him from the clouds.

“Ah—!” Lucas jolted awake, soaked in cold sweat.

His mind was filled with the sight of that tiny dragon and the strange, echoing chant it roared.

Unthinking, he spoke the words aloud, mimicking the exact rhythm.

“By my command—bring the clouds, summon the rain—Lingyu Spell!”

Right then, it felt like all the energy in his body drained out. A patch of clouds, a few meters wide, with snapping sparks of electricity, buzzed quietly into existence above his head.