Skinwalker Belle – Chapter 574 – You— Have Come

Inside the Dragon Emperor Hall, the stench of alcohol was strong enough to knock a person off their feet.

Long Yi had one foot carelessly propped on the armrest of the throne, tilting his head back to take another gulp of strong liquor while regaling the representatives of the various races with exaggerated tales of his glorious achievements. Spittle flew everywhere, leaving the foreheads of those in the front row glistening.

Beside the throne, Long Yan, dressed in a sharp black outfit, pressed his fingers against his throbbing temples, feeling a headache coming on.

His father was perfect in every way—except for his behavior when drunk, which was truly beyond words.

Seeing Long Teng leave first, that hollow feeling in his chest crept back up again.

He let out a sigh and turned to descend from the high platform.

“Hey, you little brat, where are you running off to?” Long Yi bellowed from behind.

Long Yan didn’t look back, just waved a hand.

He needed to find a place, somewhere quiet.

The reconstruction of the Dragon Spirit Continent was back on track, thriving and prosperous.

But his father was too loud, and the hall was too rowdy—neither was what he wanted.

He wanted to go for a walk.

He didn’t know how long he walked, but when he came back to his senses, he was already standing before the Teleportation Array in Azurewood City.

A flash of light passed, and that familiar yet unfamiliar street unfolded before him.

What used to be a chaotic gray zone full of slaves had now become one of the largest trade hubs between the two realms—bustling with traffic and teeming with voices.

He strolled past the site of the old Slave Market.

It had long been leveled, replaced by a massive Evolver Academy. Over the walls, he could hear the spirited shouts of youths, each cry louder than the last, brimming with vibrant vitality.

Long Yan’s steps finally came to a stop in front of an inn.

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The inn’s sign was old, its paint peeling in places, but it was wiped clean. Compared to the modern high-rises springing up all around, it stood stubbornly, preserving its own unique charm.

He came here occasionally, staying in that room full of memories, spending time alone in quiet solitude.

Long Yan pushed open the door, and the plump pig-man owner behind the counter lit up the moment he saw him. His rotund body waddled out eagerly, his face beaming with a wide smile.

“Lord Long Yan! It’s been a while! The usual room?”

Long Yan nodded.

The pig-man owner’s smile stiffened, and he rubbed his hands together, looking troubled. “Ah, my lord, what bad luck. That room you always stay in… a young lady just moved in a few days ago.”

“If it’s taken, then never mind.” Long Yan didn’t insist and turned to leave.

“Wait, my lord, don’t be hasty!” The pig-man owner quickly scurried forward to block his path, lowering his voice and leaning in with a knowing look. “That young lady—she’s also of the Dragon Clan! And beautiful, I tell you! Perhaps you might even know her?”

Long Yan wasn’t interested.

There were plenty of Dragon Clan members; he couldn’t possibly know them all.

Seeing him about to leave, the pig-man owner grew anxious and added another line: “I heard her mention it herself—I think her name was… Long Ningshuang.”

Long Yan’s foot, just about to cross the threshold, froze mid-air.

Time seemed to be drained away in that instant.

He turned around slowly, his movements stiff and rigid. He stared at the pig-man owner—no roar, no interrogation, just a silent gaze.

But that look alone made the air in the entire inn turn cold.

The smile on the pig-man owner’s face vanished instantly. His fat trembled, his teeth chattered with a faint clacking sound. In Long Yan’s eyes, he saw a dead stillness and a fury on the verge of eruption.

“Lo… Long Ningshuang…” he repeated in a voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz.

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Long Yan flung him aside.

Ning Shuang.

His Ning Shuang was Lei Li.

That was the truth carved into his bones, a truth he had only accepted by summoning every ounce of his courage.

How could there possibly be a second Long Ningshuang in this world?

Who?

Who dared to use that name! Who dared to touch the deepest scar in his heart!

A violent killing intent erupted skyward. Long Yan’s figure turned into a black streak, charging straight for the stairs. The guests in the inn felt an enormous pressure crash down upon them, their breathing seized, each one too terrified to make a sound.

BANG!

A thunderous crash—the door at the end of the second-floor hallway was blown to splinters by his kick.

Amidst the swirling wood chips, Long Yan charged in, radiating murderous aura.

He froze in place.

Inside the room.

A woman sat by the window, dressed in black-gold battle attire, sheer stockings over her legs, and delicate embroidered shoes on her feet.

Dark green hair. Dark gold dragon horns.

That face…

It was identical to the face buried in the deepest recesses of his memory—the face of the one who had pulled him from the abyss when he was at his most desperate and helpless.

And beside her, a girl in shorts and a shirt, a fluffy fox tail swaying behind her, was clinging to her arm, chattering away about something.

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That girl…

Long Yan’s pupils contracted to pinpricks.

It was Su Rou.

The Fox Clan girl who, in the Mist Forest, had used her frail body to shield him with everything she had.

“How…”

Long Yan’s throat felt as if something were lodged in it, blocking every sound.

The two in the room, startled by the commotion, turned their heads in unison.

The Fox Clan girl called Su Rou saw Long Yan, froze for a moment, then her face exploded with overwhelming joy.

“Brother Long Yan! You finally came!”

She let go of Ning Shuang’s arm and bounded over to Long Yan with cheerful leaps, tilting up that innocent, guileless little face, her eyes curving into crescent moons as she smiled.

“Sister Ning Shuang and I have been waiting for you for days!”

Long Yan’s mind went completely blank. He couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t feel anything.

His gaze pierced past Su Rou, locked onto the woman by the window.

That Long Ningshuang also rose to her feet.

Her face carried just the right hint of nervousness and shyness, and in her golden vertical pupils was a gentleness he knew down to his very bones.

“You… came.”

Long Yan’s head buzzed, heavy and burning.

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He looked at this living, breathing Long Ningshuang before him, then glanced at the lively, bouncing Su Rou beside her. His mind was utterly overwhelmed, his bones turned to jelly, and he stood rigid in the shattered doorframe.

Ning Shuang was Lei Jie—that was an ironclad fact. But who was this before him now? An illusion? Or some blind fool of an enemy testing him with clumsy disguise?

A fury laced with fear exploded from his chest.

“Who the hell are you?!”

His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping against wood. The full force of his peak Level Eight aura crushed outward without reservation, making the tables and chairs in the room hum and tremble.

The runic longblade in his hand let out a hungry hum, thirsting for blood, and a golden Combat Domain flickered faintly behind him.

Su Rou was so startled by this aura that she trembled, her small face turning pale. Instinctively, she hid behind Long Ningshuang, poking out only her fluffy little head, her amber eyes filled with grievance and confusion.

By the window, however, Long Ningshuang showed not a trace of fear.

She simply watched him quietly. In those golden vertical pupils, besides that damned tenderness, there was also a hint of heartache.

She took a step forward, wearing those delicate embroidered shoes—one step, then another—slowly walking toward him.

Long Yan’s hand gripping the blade was taut to the point of bursting, veins bulging, every muscle in his body primed for combat. Yet his feet felt too heavy to lift.

The woman walked up to him and stopped.

She said nothing. Instead, she raised a hand—calloused, yet infinitely gentle—and softly brushed it against his cheek.

The sensation was so real that Long Yan’s entire body trembled.

“You’ve grown thinner.” Her voice was soft, carrying a hint of a sigh, identical to the tone in his memory. “And darker, too.”

Long Yan’s breath stopped abruptly.

“I know what you’re thinking right now.” Long Ningshuang’s fingertips traced across his brow and eyes, her voice carrying a smile that saw through everything. “You must be wondering who I am, aren’t you?”