The images collapse like leaves blown by the wind, revealing darkness behind, until colors fill in like sunlight under the canopy. Yijun sees the dragon seated on a chair with his back to him in a richly furnished room where the pine wood floor shines and the elm wood dresser nearby gleams in its lacquer. The dragon is bent over and Yijun hears some soft cooing sounds. He comes closer and walks to the side. The dragon is cradling a baby on his lap. The baby is cute and lovable with his chubby cheeks and hands. But he has peculiar blue eyes that twinkles as he giggles and laughs while the dragon coos and makes faces at him.

Yijun watches the scene, a fond feeling blooming in his chest. Then he startles, sensing someone behind him. Jingwen walks past, stopping by the dragon’s side. He has fine lines on his face and some gray in his hair, which surprises Yijun. But the dragon beside him looks as young as ever.

 “I see you’re both enjoying yourselves,” Jinwen says, placing a hand on the dragon’s shoulder.

The dragon purses his lips and blows bubbles at the baby, who shrieks and giggles, fist in mouth. In his excitement, his saliva spills over his hand, drooling down his chest. The dragon pulls a cloth from his sleeve and gently dabs at the baby’s mouth. “You and the children are the only things that make me forget… that I am not at home.”

The atmosphere shifts immediately. Yijun notices Jingwen’s back tense a little. “Do you regret this life, then? Being with me?” he asks, his voice quiet, as if afraid to hear the dragon's answer.

The dragon shakes his head. “I’m merely saying that you make it easier for me to ignore my programming.”

Jingwen sighs. “I’m not following again.”

“I told you before—we dragons are just instruments of the Great Will, like the shovel in your hand. Living like this is no easier for me than it is for a shovel to dream of being a farmer. Such a thing is impossible and absurd, yet here we are, living outside intentions. And I do not regret it.”

Jingwen crouches, hugs the dragon, and plants a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I’m very grateful you still choose to be with me, and I promise I’ll make it easier and enjoyable for you,” he murmurs. The dragon twists to look at Jingwen and smiles. Suddenly, his face contorts, and he begins to cough.

“Are you alright? I didn’t know dragons could catch colds,” his husband jokes, rubbing the dragon’s back.

The dragon stops coughing. “They don’t, but I do, being truly mortal now.”

Jingwen’s brow creases, his hand stilling on the dragon’s back. “What do you mean?”

“I am dying.”

Jingwen stares at him, speechless. “How? Why? I thought dragons were immortal.”

“Instruments that no longer serve their purpose are discarded. And Heaven’s law dictates that immortals may never live a mortal life. I’ve broken this law, and now I am facing the consequences.”

Jingwen’s hand stops moving. The dragon notices and places his own hand on his arm in reassurance. “Don’t worry. I have about a thousand years left. I won’t die in your lifetime.”

"You'll reincarnate, right? Just like us?"

The dragon shakes his head sadly. "We don't have souls like you do, as we were never intended to enter the world's cycle. I am born from the wind and waves and when I die, I shall return to that form also."

 Jingwen steps in front of him, gripping both his arms tightly. “Listen to me. You should go back, save yourself.”

The dragon smiles sadly and shakes his head. “It’s too late for that. My pearl is lost, so I cannot regain my divinity even if I wish to. Besides, death is better than forgetting the feelings I have for you and the children.”

“Stop being stubborn!” Jinwen yells, startling their baby, whose forehead puckers as he watches his parents. “Your life is more important than any of this. I’m not asking for anything more, I’m content with what I have now and what you have given me. Go back; don’t worry about us. We’ll be alright.”

The dragon pats the baby on his lap to comfort him. “Jingwen,” he says, his voice quiet, “are you truly asking me to go back, now that I know what happiness is? Are you asking me to go back to that cold and dreamless life, forgetting that I loved you and you loved me too? Are you asking me to deny our children and look at them as nothing more than the grass beyond our window?” 

He puts his hand on Jingwen’s cheek to reassure him again, with a smile and a fond look, over their baby who watches them with concern.  “Don’t cry; death isn’t that bad. Even if I die, I will still be with you. My body may die, but not my love. From my body, flowers and all the beautiful things of this world shall grow and proclaim my love for you, forever, through all your lifetimes.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Jingwen sobs. His face fully crumbles and tears run down his cheeks. “If I knew this would happen, I would never have approached you back then.”

“I do not regret that you have approached me,” the dragon answers. “Because of you, I know now how living can be so vivid and I will gladly exchange an infinite life for a moment with you.”