Yellow Dragon Task Force 2

The Tuo River, flowing thousands of miles from Jiuding Mountain at the northwestern edge of the Sichuan Basin, here cuts through the Longguan Mountain range, carving out a gorge known as Qingshan Gorge, where waterfalls cascade down. This is the famed “Qingshan Gorge.”

The mountains undulate between elevations of 200 to 500 meters, with dramatic differences in relative height. Steep cliffs abound, with many flying waterfalls, rushing rapids, deep ravines, and narrow gorges. Numerous peaks and stones resemble dragons in shape, alongside flowing springs and cascading falls.

This was the description in the mission manual.

Another page introduced Master Huang.

“He is an elderly man past seventy. Do not attempt to disturb him while he is occupied, or you will be shown the door. You may ask him no more than three questions per day; he will answer only if he wishes.”

The attached photo showed an old man in a yellow robe and loose black pants, his back to the camera. His white hair was tied into a small bun, his bent figure nearly sweeping the ground.

“This old man has quite a temper,” Mei Zizi remarked.

“Since you accompany me, your actions will affect me. I advise you to show some respect.”

Mei paid no mind.

“How old can he be compared to me? You all should be respecting me instead…” Mei pouted.

“If we fail the mission, our situation will be awkward,” Yuan Jinxing reminded her. Both needed this mission to prove themselves.

Mei’s furrowed brows relaxed.

“True enough.”

The vehicle pulled into a guesthouse.

“This is the place.”

Qingshan Gorge was a resort village—unlike a city, it was a picturesque mountain village, untouched by excessive development.

The two got out, and the Startrail device was stowed away.

They looked at the old man under the tree, raking fallen leaves with his back turned, then glanced again at the mission manual.

It was an exact match.

“This photo was taken just yesterday, wasn’t it?”

The two approached, and Mei patted the old man’s shoulder out of courtesy.

“Greetings, elder.”

“We are from the guard team, you’re aware of the mission, right?” Yuan Jinxing leaned in from the side.

“The mission? You’re here to find Huang Long, aren’t you?” The old man turned, his face kind.

“Yes, that’s right,” Yuan Jinxing nodded.

But the old man seemed not to see them, staring rigidly ahead.

“I can only give you a few pieces of information; the rest you must discover yourselves.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and began walking away stiffly.

“Wait for me here,” he said step by step, his movements stiff and laborious.

Once he was out of sight, Mei couldn’t help but comment, “This old man can’t have many days left; he walks so stiffly.” She hoped the clues wouldn’t end so abruptly.

“Maybe this is part of the test,” Yuan Jinxing sighed.

Master Huang returned indoors, closing the door to block their view.

“You’ve finally arrived,” Huang Long sighed with relief.

He pulled out a crumpled slip of paper from a cabinet. This test had lasted many years; some found the Huang Long mentioned in old texts, others left disappointed. This time’s challengers looked particularly tough.

“The old man is here,” he inhaled deeply and relaxed.

“This note was left by predecessors, recording where they once saw Huang Long. You can try your luck there.”

Mei snatched the note.

“Crinkled and worn, old man, haven’t you kept it properly?” she said impatiently.

“Look all you want,” Master Huang shot her a glance.

Yuan Jinxing leaned in to read.

“‘A light boat with a short oar sings as it goes, water far and mountains long bring endless sorrow.’”

“Again with boats and mountains and water—are we supposed to take a boat somewhere? Can your information department be any more precise?” Mei stared at the note, still puzzled.

“This is a poem. The full verse is: ‘In front of Huangling Temple, spring rushes of sedge; daughters of Huangling in fresh skirts. A light boat with a short oar sings as it goes; water far and mountains long bring endless sorrow,’” Yuan Jinxing explained.

“The poem’s title is Huangling Temple.”

Mei understood.

“So we’re going to a temple?”

“Looks that way,” Yuan Jinxing agreed, drawing a blank otherwise.

“The poem’s author was Li Yuan, a Tang dynasty poet who passed the imperial examination in 831 during the fifth year of the Dahe era, eventually rising to censor-in-chief. Li Yuan excelled in prose and poetry. The poem describes a girl in a red skirt singing as she rows a boat, expressing the poet’s affection for her.”

“What a mismatch between title and content—so flowery,” Mei found it hard to grasp.

“As for Huangling Temple, it is dedicated to Shun’s two consorts, Ehuang and Nuying, also known as the Two Consorts’ Temple or Xiangfei Shrine.”

“The title, content, and location—each says its own thing…” Mei felt dizzy.

“Let’s go,” Yuan Jinxing said, equally baffled.

“See for ourselves and return early.”

“That’s all we can do.” Mei rolled up her sleeves.

Their journey was swift as they crossed the village, arriving by the Little Three Gorges.

The cliffs there were steep and diverse in form—some resembled roaring lions, others like descending fairies. Ancient vines clung to sheer rocks, jagged stones stood out, and waterfalls thundered like roaring thunder, stirring the soul.

Ripples danced across the river’s surface, and the rhythmic sound of waves seemed capable of washing away all worldly worries.

“This is already a tourist attraction. Who could possibly know the trace of Huang Long after a thousand years?” Yuan Jinxing’s mind was in turmoil.

“Your mind’s sharp. With my flying and your earthbound skills combined, it should be easy. Let’s ask the locals if they have any impression of Huang Long.”

---

Yuan Jinxing’s eyes gleamed.

“Almost forgot, we’re at a tourist spot.”

Time to relax and enjoy a vacation.

“Auntie, I heard there’s a Huangling Temple here. Do you know anything about its background?” Mei stopped a local woman buying vegetables.

“And you are?” the woman asked curtly.

“We’re friends of Master Huang who runs the guesthouse at the village entrance,” Yuan Jinxing replied.

“Friends of Master Huang? Then come in, come in! What would you like to eat? I’ll cook for you,” the woman suddenly became warm and hospitable.

Surprised at Master Huang’s local popularity, Yuan Jinxing declined.

“No, thank you, Auntie.”

Mei didn’t need food either—not that she didn’t eat, but a few small dishes wouldn’t fill her.

“Master Huang helps develop our local economy; it’s only right to welcome his friends. No need for formalities.”

“We only want to know about Huangling Temple—a little token of appreciation,” Yuan Jinxing offered a universal pass.

“Not allowed, not allowed,” the woman accepted it shyly.

“Huangling Temple was powerful years ago—bringing the dead back to life was no problem. But recently, it’s lost its effectiveness; with national development, fewer believe in it,” the woman summarized, somewhat exaggerating.

“Thank you, Auntie.” Yuan Jinxing prepared to leave, having gleaned nothing more.

But the woman stopped her.

“Stay for a meal,” she insisted warmly.

“No, no,” Yuan Jinxing declined again.

“Master Huang has helped us a lot; his friends are our friends,” the woman urged.

“What exactly has he done?” Mei was curious.

“He helps promote our local meat products; every year he brings large orders, helping everyone live well.”

“He’s a good man,” Mei sighed.

“So you’re his distributors?” The woman guessed.

“Yes,” Yuan Jinxing admitted, wanting to learn more.

“Perfect, I’ve got stock ready at home. Come see and eat with me,” the woman invited, leading them inside.

Mei had no choice but to follow.

“Enough to fill you up?” Mei asked.

“Absolutely,” the kind Aunt Wang had no idea how risky that question was.

The stock was about forty plump, healthy pigs raised this year.

The woman welcomed them inside and went to prepare the meal.

Mei stretched lazily.

“See, she said you’ll be full,” Mei grinned.

“What’s wrong?” Yuan Jinxing sensed something amiss.

“These pigs cleaned and cooked wouldn’t even be enough for me,” Mei joked, preparing her appetite.

“Oh? Such a big appetite?” Yuan Jinxing was surprised.

Mei played the victim.

“I haven’t had a full meal in a long time.”

Yuan Jinxing took her hand.

“What else do you want to eat?”

Thanks to Yuan Jinxing’s support of local development, a banner was hung at the village entrance that very night:

“Welcome Promotion Ambassador—Yuan Jinxing and Friend Visiting.”

Mei’s eyes sparkled.

“Yuan Jinxing, you’re so rich,” she hugged her arm proudly.

A dazzling array of local specialties filled the courtyard, mostly dried meats.

“You’ll be full.”

Mei blinked back tears, finally free from bug meals!

The guard team’s resources were limited, mostly spent on equipment. With so many expenses, the captain had to tighten her belt to ensure the team ate enough—not lavishly, but enough to avoid starvation.

“Feast time!” Mei howled joyfully.

Master Huang watched Mei clear huge portions in the yard as chickens, ducks, fish, geese, pigs, cattle, and sheep were continually brought in from outside.

They must think we’re here on vacation.

Yuan Jinxing swiped her card at the door, enjoying this act of generosity.

Only when she was full did Mei stop, lying on the ground, her tail wagging freely and proudly.

Moonlight poured gently and peacefully.

“Do the locals not suspect anything?” Mei wiped her mouth.

“Just learned at the market that the courtyard regularly buys high-quality meat. They think Master Huang introduced us,” Yuan Jinxing said, sitting on a stone bench.

“This Master Huang went to bed so early—is he avoiding us on purpose?”

---

“Even if he’s testing us, there’s no need to hide,” Mei’s tail swayed, stirring the sand.

“The old man needs plenty of rest.”

“We know where Huangling Temple is. Should we act tonight?” Mei sat up.

“No, plenty of time. It closes at night; better not disturb the villagers,” Yuan Jinxing didn’t mind waiting.

“I hate sleeping,” Mei lay back down.

“Us ancient beings don’t need much sleep. When you’re asleep, I get bored alone.”

Yuan Jinxing smiled gently.

“If that’s so, Captain Mei shouldn’t consider marrying humans…” She didn’t finish, suddenly realizing.

“You’re an ancient being?!” Yuan Jinxing was stunned.

“Uh-huh,” Mei glanced at her shyly.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“You’re the captain, the big boss! How could you not be human? Your tail might be a lab modification, other powers could be side effects from the Filian union, but you should at least be human,” Yuan Jinxing found it hard to believe.

Mei hid her tail behind her.

“Though the first, I’m definitely not the last,” she said. “You’re one too.”

“It’s progress for the guard team,” Mei argued, then suddenly thought of something. “I won’t argue with you anymore, Bamboo Captain.”

Hearing this, Yuan Jinxing calmed instantly. Wise is the one who knows the times.

“Deal.”

Mei licked her palm.

“Love is a truly perplexing poison.”

She hung upside down from a tree, keeping watch until dawn.

In her dream, Yuan Jinxing returned to the vision from when she was unconscious, drifting among the clouds.

Breaking through the clouds revealed the rising sun, its warm sunlight bathing her, the clouds melting into a golden hue as if solid. The shadow that had accompanied her beneath the cloud cover burst forth—dragons, countless dragons!

Yuan Jinxing woke with a start.

“Huangling Temple, Huangling Temple. What is it really about?” Mei pulled back grass to watch ants moving their colony.

“It’s going to rain.”

She returned to Yuan Jinxing’s side.

There was nothing extraordinary here—just an ancient, quaint temple.

“Look at this stone tablet,” Yuan Jinxing stopped by a moss-covered stele near the incense pile.

“It records that a true dragon once manifested here and villagers worshipped it for a time, consistent with the historical record provided.”

“Is this the clue? Worship?” Mei pondered quietly.

“Waking early could mean either a fortunate coincidence with abundant power reserves, or a near-death state with barely one-tenth strength, triggering a desperate survival instinct,” Mei mused.

“Maybe it was hunted and eaten—dragon meat is delicious,” she added wryly.

“You mean Huang Long awakened but was so weak it had to freeload at Huangling Temple? Then when discovered, it was captured and cooked as a delicacy?” Yuan Jinxing was surprised.

“Ancient beings either didn’t awaken or were too fragile until recent years when they’ve been sprouting everywhere like mushrooms after rain,” Mei said, not recognizing the words on the tablet but deciphering the numbers.

“Hey? I can read this.”

Modern characters: “The answer lies in the water.”

“Not sure who wrote it—seems familiar,” Yuan Jinxing studied the tablet, which looked quite old.

“The ancient creatures or gods you face have drastically weakened since my era—like newborns just hatched. Their strength is less than one-thousandth of what it once was,” Mei revealed the harsh truth.

“Otherwise, dealing with you would be like dealing with chickens, ducks, fish, or geese.”

Yuan Jinxing frowned, deep in thought.

“Human strength really is…”

“No big deal. Though to us, waking to be dominated by chickens and ducks is humiliating, humans at the top of the food chain were formidable. Falling to the bottom is just as you perceive.”

“I’m just a traitor to my kind.”

“But undeniably, you’re struggling hard. Your spirit of self-improvement moves me.”

“Thank you, Captain Mei,” Yuan Jinxing was touched.

Mei slurped.

“Anytime.”

Hands on hips, proud as can be.

Actually, it wasn’t that meaningful for her, but since Old Mei cared, she cared, too.

“Yuan Jinxing, fight hard for the people you want to protect, the ones you love,” Mei said, patting her shoulder meaningfully.

“Mm,” Yuan Jinxing nodded.

“The tablet also records riverbank rituals, where dragon roars are often heard over the river’s center, and the dead are brought back to life.”

“Rituals by the river—could there be a clue? And ‘the answer lies in the water’ likely refers to the Little Three Gorges.”

They hurried to the riverbank.

“The wind brushes sparse bamboo; the bamboo makes no sound as it passes. Wild geese cross the cold pool; the pool leaves no reflection as they go. It means that once events pass, the heart must be clear, free of obsession, to find inner peace,” Ju listened to the recording, feeling somewhat lighter, less burdened.