I wiped an island off the map and hid it for a thousand years.
There was no second living person on the island until a white dragon crashed down from the clouds, pointed at me and cursed: "We have no grievances! You bully the dragon too much!"
She said she was just passing by, she said she had lost her memory. But she remembered biting me once more than four hundred years ago. And I never mentioned the word "bite".
The world runs on registration: those who are on the register are counted, those who are not are not. I have only done one thing in this thousand years, so that no book in the world can find me.
The trouble started with her. There is a stone embedded in her chest that does not belong to this world. It is so cold that when she touches it, the aura of the outside world that has been hidden in me for a thousand years will ring like two bells.
Later I took her to the sea. There is a reward for her scales painted on the wall, eight hundred taels, double if you take it alive. An old man who collected old things recognized half a line of names from one of my cloths. There is a clan of dragons guarding a fire that has been burning for thousands of years. The fire had no smoke or smell, and the ashes were white.
Now the twelve ships of Denmeiyuan are heading west overnight.
I have been thinking about one thing: should I write my name into that book?
