Song Qian Ji followed the floral fragrance up to the small pavilion. Before he could see the scene inside, a range of greens—from light to dark—first struck his eyes.

To be precise, it was six people dressed in green brocade robes, their bodies gleaming with pearls and jewels.

The Six Worthies of Qingya also saw Song Qian Ji.

That nightmarish figure emerged from the stairway entrance, instantly transporting them back to the doorway of Song Residence.

Even the orange sunset light slanting through the windows seemed identical to that day.

If they weren’t planning to punish Song Qian Ji tonight, with everything prepared, they wouldn’t have gone out to relax.

The first three rounds of the martial arts competition were time-limited and not particularly exciting. They had preferred to come upstairs to appreciate the beautiful female cultivators’ “flower contest.”

Who knew they would run into their nemesis?

The six were momentarily stunned. Some instinctively stepped back, others’ expressions twisted.

The pale green youth questioned aggressively, though his bravado masked inner fear: “What are you doing here?”

“Of course, I came to appreciate flowers,” Song Qian Ji replied.

The six wore strange expressions. The youth in the bean-green robe sneered:

“You, an outer disciple, dare to come here to appreciate flowers? Do you think you’re worthy?”

The female cultivators holding the flower contest in the pavilion were mostly noble-born and exceptionally talented. A smile from them was worth a thousand gold pieces, and ordinary cultivators wouldn’t dare approach them for fear of embarrassment.

Those spirit plants were also the most precious and rare varieties, priceless. If Song Qian Ji damaged even a single leaf, he couldn’t afford to compensate.

Song Qian Ji smiled.

His smile made the six uneasy:

“What are you smiling at?”

“What’s so funny?”

Song Qian Ji thought I cultivate daily, and though I’m still far from being a professional planting master, I’m something of an insider.

Last time at Song Residence’s entrance, you couldn’t even recognize a few string bean sprouts. Now you’re participating in a “planting experience exchange meeting”—isn’t that like a blind man lighting a lamp, wasting candles?

So he sincerely advised: “There’s the martial arts competition at the main hall plaza, and the chess competition preliminaries in Fengyun Valley. Both would be more suitable for you to watch. Compared to the six Fellow Daoists, naturally, I’m more deserving to be here.”

The faces of the Six Worthies of Qingya flushed red.

How dare this fellow be so arrogant? What gave him such confidence?

But seeing the secretly gleeful looks in other cultivators’ eyes, as if waiting for them to quarrel and provoke the displeasure of the female cultivators “contesting flowers,” resulting in being driven downstairs…

The six could only transmit messages to comfort each other: “He’s just a grasshopper after autumn. With Meng He Ze tied up at the martial arts competition tonight, let’s see who can protect him then.”

Song Qian Ji said: “Please excuse me.”

These six green onions standing together completely blocked the stairway entrance.

As they brushed shoulders, Song Qian Ji heard someone threaten in a low voice: “Don’t be smug. Soon you won’t be smiling anymore!”

He nodded, holding back his laughter.

Song Qian Ji looked around and saw that though the pavilion was filled with flowers, they were all rootless, cut at the stem, and placed in exquisite vases for appreciation.

Though fresh and bright, in full bloom, their lifespan was only a day. Their vitality was far inferior to the plants in his vegetable garden.

Yet a group of cultivators surrounded jade tables, lavishly praising those flower vases inscribed with names:

“Fairy Li’s vase of butterfly orchids paired with cloud immortal grass is arranged with perfect balance, appropriate density, and colors that are both clear and gorgeous. Truly, the flowers resemble their owner!”

“Fairy Zhang’s vase of jade mountain camellias is arranged with even more ingenuity. She deliberately used a wide-mouthed colored cloud stone vase, showing unique artistry, just like her orchid-heart quality!”

They praised the female cultivators’ taste by praising the flowers.

Beside the vases, the female cultivators’ servants and maids appeared to be tending the fresh flowers, sprinkling water, and trimming leaves. In reality, they were recording what was said to report back to their mistresses.

This was a gathering to collect marriage intentions for the cultivation world’s noble families, though no one would state it explicitly.

But Song Qian Ji, with his commoner farmer background, had no chance to experience such complicated dynamics in his previous life, so naturally, he didn’t understand.

He listened for a moment, growing increasingly puzzled.

What was this? Were they here to learn flower arranging?

Could one learn flower arranging by just looking and not practicing?

He asked: “Excuse me, are there any flowers with pots and soil here?”

The young cultivators stopped their conversation upon hearing this.

Everyone stared at him as if a flower had bloomed on his face.

“You want to see potted flowers?” someone asked.

Song Qian Ji nodded: “That’s exactly why I came.”

“They’re all on the terrace,” another person pointed in a direction, with a strange expression. “They’re judging the flower king now.”

“Thank you, Fellow Daoist!”

Song Qian Ji looked where indicated and, through a white shark-skin gauze curtain, could vaguely see flowers of all kinds competing in beauty behind the veil, and hear cheerful laughter.

The thin veil hung motionless, with no one lifting it like an iron wall especially separating the terrace.

Everyone watched Song Qian Ji’s back as he walked toward the terrace, as if waiting for a great spectacle, to see what would happen to him.

On the terrace, more than ten female cultivators were gorgeously dressed, laughing and chatting.

Before each one was an exquisitely carved small jade pot.

Outside was a transparent glass cover, enclosing both flower and pot.

Incredibly, small spiritual gathering formations were carved on the inner walls of the covers. Inside, phosphorescent light circulated, dreamlike and magical.

In the sea of clouds, the sunset was brilliant. They sat drinking tea and appreciating flowers in the glow, occasionally looking down at the plaza below.

The pavilion offered a panoramic view, and with cultivators’ far-reaching eyesight, it was enough to take in all the different viewing platforms.

But with the fourth round of the martial arts competition just beginning, there wasn’t much to see yet, so they mostly looked at flowers:

“Fairy Yun’s pot of golden thread jade begonia, which blooms once every ten years, truly has petals crystal clear like jade.”

“Fairy Meng’s pot of crystal silver azalea is even better. The silver light flickers like stars in the sky. I like it.”

“Fairy Feng’s seven-colored cloud peony, not just seven colors but ten, this is truly the most beautiful flower in the world.”

A white tiger lay at the feet of a purple-robed female cultivator. Apart from the flame-like pattern on its forehead, its body didn’t have a single stray hair.

It was snoring slightly, and except for its large size, it was as docile as a big white cat.

Suddenly, the gauze curtain was lifted by a hand with distinct knuckles, instantly disturbing the sunset glow throughout the room.

The female cultivators frowned instinctively.

A gentle voice sounded: “Excuse me!”

Before the words faded, the tiger pretending to doze on the ground opened its crimson eyes, leaped up with its body, revealing a mouthful of fangs, and pounced toward the person who had lifted the curtain.

“Roar!” The tiger’s roar shook the pavilion!

Even though the other cultivators outside the terrace had anticipated this, their hearts still trembled.

The tiger’s claws made a great sound cutting through the air. At close range, Song Qian Ji dodged, but instead of retreating, he advanced toward the tiger’s roar.

He thought, does this flower appreciation gathering even have a spirit beast as a doorkeeper? Is that necessary?

A female voice shouted sternly: “Chu Xue, come back!”

The white tiger obeyed the command and turned back, but its momentum in midair couldn’t be checked. It fell and rolled, making a plaintive whimpering sound from its throat.

The gauze curtain fell again, blocking the prying eyes outside.

The cultivators couldn’t believe what they saw.

“That fool wasn’t torn to pieces?”

“He went straight in! How did he get in?”

“Wait, he looks familiar, he’s…” someone exclaimed, “He’s Song Qian Ji!”

On the terrace, the female cultivators examined the newcomer with confusion.

Feng Ziyi stroked the tiger’s head, rose with a smiling face, and said: “Fellow Daoist Song, I didn’t frighten you, did I?”

Chen Hongzhu almost stood up at the same time: “What are you doing here?”

She didn’t know whether to be pleased or annoyed. Why was Song Qian Ji everywhere?

This person was too troublesome. Just because they hadn’t let him leave the mountain promptly, did he have to cause such a commotion throughout the Huawei Sect?

“I came to look at flowers,” Song Qian Ji said.

The female cultivators waited for him to continue explaining, but after saying this, he said no more and walked directly to the jade table to examine the flowers under the glass covers.

Feng Ziyi explained: “I know this person. This is his nature. He doesn’t mean to be abrupt with everyone.”

“Could it be that he came to see flowers?”

Feng Ziyi nodded: “That’s right.”

She wanted to add, don’t be so conceited, but felt it wasn’t appropriate as if she were being conceited. In the end, she only said:

“Let’s continue looking at the flowers.”

Chen Hongzhu tilted her head and rolled her eyes, thinking indignantly, are you two that familiar?

Why do you speak as if he were a disciple of your Dayan Sect?

Song Qian Ji suddenly asked: “May I ask, Fellow Daoist, how is this flower cultivated, and why are there several pieces of black gold ore in the soil?”

His attitude was polite, not like someone deliberately trying to find fault.

But the female cultivator being questioned was at a loss, only managing a forced smile: “There’s an alchemist at home who’s skilled in cultivating spirit herbs. He placed these. I’m not familiar with it.”

Song Qian Ji nodded in disappointment.

He asked two or three more questions and realized this group didn’t understand soil geology, wet and dry temperatures, or water and fertilizer balance at all.

And they called this a “flower appreciation gathering”?

He shook his head repeatedly in his heart, calling them amateurs. They didn’t understand farming at all.

Song Qian Ji walked slowly, bending to continue his appreciation.

At the end of the jade table, a pot of water silver lotus bloomed, covered with a glass dome.

He asked: “May I ask, Fellow Daoist, why are there two cold crystal stones placed at the bottom of the water?”

The person behind the flower sat quietly, her voice faint:

“This silver lotus naturally prefers cold and only grows in the deep abyss of the cold pond in Blood River Valley. The cold crystal stones maintain the temperature, but not too many—two are just right. The water in the pot is also taken from the cold pond. Flowers that fall from branches and float away are like people who leave their homeland and drift.”

Song Qian Ji nodded: “Thank you.”

But this voice sounded familiar. He looked up, facing the glow of the sunset.

This face was also familiar.

Miao Yan.