Following the scent of flowers, Song Qianji ascended the small tower. Before he could clearly see the scene inside the hall, a spectrum of deep and light greens rushed into his view.
To be precise, it was six individuals dressed in green brocade robes, adorned with jewels and pearls from head to toe.
The Six Sages of Green Cliff also saw Song Qianji.
That nightmare-like figure emerged from the stairwell, instantly transporting them back to the entrance of Song Courtyard.
Even the orange glow of the setting sun slanting through the window seemed identical to that day.
If not for their well-laid plans to deal with Song Qianji tonight, they wouldn't have ventured out to relax.
The first three rounds of the martial trials were time-limited and lacked major highlights, so they thought it better to come upstairs and admire the beautiful female cultivators' "flower competitions."
Who would have thought they'd run into their nemesis here?
The six of them froze momentarily. Some instinctively stepped back, while others' expressions twisted with discomfort.
The pale-green-robed youth blustered with false bravado: "What are you doing here?"
"Of course, I'm here to admire the flowers," Song Qianji replied.
The six of them wore strange expressions. The pea-green-robed youth sneered:
"You, a mere Outer Sect disciple, dare come here to admire flowers? Do you think you're worthy?"
Most of the female cultivators competing in the flower contests here came from noble backgrounds with exceptional talent. It was difficult to earn even a smile from them with vast sums of money, and ordinary cultivators wouldn't dare approach them to avoid embarrassment.
Those spiritual plants were also the rarest and most precious varieties, priceless beyond measure. Song Qianji couldn't afford to pay for even a single damaged leaf.
Song Qianji laughed.
His laughter made the six of them uneasy:
"What are you laughing at?"
"What's so funny anyway?"
Song Qianji thought to himself: I farm every day. Though I'm still far from being a professional planting master, I'm definitely half an expert in this field.
Last time at Song Courtyard's entrance, you couldn't even recognize a few bean sprouts. Now you're attending this "planting experience exchange meeting" - isn't that like a blind man lighting a lamp, wasting effort?
So he sincerely advised: "The main square has martial trials, and Windy Smoke Valley has the preliminary chess matches. Both would be more suitable for you to observe. Compared to you six fellow cultivators, I'm certainly more deserving of being here."
The Six Sages of Green Cliff flushed red with anger.
How dare this scoundrel be so arrogant? What gives him such confidence?
But noticing the other cultivators' glances containing hidden schadenfreude, as if waiting for them to cause trouble and offend the female cultivators in the "flower competition," getting themselves thrown downstairs...
The six could only comfort each other through mental transmission: "He's just a grasshopper in late autumn. With Meng Heze tied up with the martial trials tonight, who's left to protect him?"
Song Qianji said: "Please make way."
These six green onions standing together completely blocked the stairwell entrance.
As he brushed past them, Song Qianji heard someone whisper threateningly: "Don't get cocky! We'll soon wipe that smile off your face!"
He nodded, suppressing a laugh.
Song Qianji surveyed his surroundings. Though the tower was filled with vibrant floral displays, they were all rootless flowers - cut from their stems and arranged in exquisite vases for people's appreciation.
Though fresh, gorgeous, and in full bloom, their flowering period wouldn't last more than a day. Their vitality was far inferior to the plants in his vegetable garden.
Yet a group of cultivators surrounded jade tables, lavishing praise on the vases bearing names:
"Immortal Li's arrangement of butterfly orchids with cloud immortal grass is perfectly spaced, with balanced intensity, colors both fresh and charming yet not losing their delicate beauty." Truly, the flowers reflect the person!"
"Immortal Zhang's mountain camellia arrangement shows even more ingenuity. She specifically used a colorful cloud stone wide-mouth vase - such unique craftsmanship, just like her elegant and kind heart!"
They used flower compliments to praise various female cultivators' tastes.
Beside the vases, the female cultivators' servants and maids superficially tended to the flowers, sprinkling water and trimming leaves. In reality, they were recording everyone's comments to report back to their respective mistresses.This was a gathering to gauge interest in marriage alliances among prominent sects of the Cultivation World, though no one would explicitly state it.
But Song Qianji, born a Rogue Cultivator from humble origins, had never encountered such intricacies in his previous life and naturally didn't understand.
After listening for a while, he grew increasingly puzzled.
What nonsense is this? Are you all here to learn flower-arranging skills?
Can one learn flower-arranging by only watching without practicing?
He asked, "Excuse me, are there any potted plants with soil here?"
The young cultivators stopped their chatter and laughter at his words.
Everyone stared at him as if a flower had bloomed on his face.
"You really want to see potted plants?" someone asked.
Song Qianji nodded. "That's exactly why I came."
"They're all on the terrace," another person pointed in a direction, looking strangely at him. "They're judging the Flower King there."
"Thank you, fellow cultivator!"Song Qianji looked over and through a white mermaid silk curtain, he could vaguely see the flowers competing in beauty behind the veil and hear joyful laughter."
A thin silk curtain, hanging motionless and untouched, stood like an iron wall, separating the terrace from the rest.
Everyone watched Song Qianji's back as he walked toward the terrace, as if waiting for a great spectacle to see how he would fare.
On the terrace, more than ten female cultivators, dressed in splendid attire, chatted and laughed merrily.
Before each of them stood an exquisitely carved small jade pot.
A transparent Glass Cover encased both flower and pot.
The inner wall of the cover was even engraved with a small Spirit gathering array. Fluorescent light swirled inside, dreamlike and illusory.
The evening glow over the sea of clouds was brilliant, and they sat in the radiant light, drinking tea, admiring flowers, and occasionally glancing at the square below.
The building offered a broad view, and with cultivators' keen eyesight, they could easily observe the different viewing platforms.
But the fourth round of the martial test had just begun, and nothing noteworthy could be seen yet. Most of the time, they focused on the flowers:
"Cloud Fairy's pot of Golden Thread Jade Begonia blooms once every ten years. Indeed, each petal is as crystalline as jade."
"Dream Fairy's pot of Crystal Silver Azalea is even better. Its silver glow shimmers like stars in the sky—I quite like it."
"Feng Fairy's Multicolored Cloud Peony isn't just seven-colored; it has at least ten shades. This is truly a beauty that captivates nations."
A white tiger lay curled at the feet of a purple-robed female cultivator. Aside from the flame-like pattern on its forehead, its fur was entirely unblemished.
It was softly snoring, and if not for its large size, it would seem as docile as a big white cat.
Suddenly, the curtain was drawn aside by a hand with distinct knuckles, instantly disturbing the room's radiant glow.
The female cultivators instinctively frowned.
A gentle voice spoke: "My apologies!"
Before the words faded, the tiger, feigning sleep on the ground, opened its crimson eyes. Its body leaped, baring full fangs, and pounced at the one who had drawn the curtain.
"Roar!" The tiger's roar shook the building!
Even the other cultivators outside the terrace, who had anticipated this, felt their minds tremble.
The sound of tiger claws cutting through the air was deafening, close at hand. Song Qianji sidestepped to avoid it but moved forward toward the roar instead of retreating.
He thought, Does this flower appreciation event even have a guardian spiritual beast? Is that necessary?
A woman's voice sharply commanded: "Chuxue, return!"
The white tiger obeyed and turned back but couldn't halt its momentum mid-air, tumbling and rolling once before whimpering throatily in grievance.
The silk curtain fell back into place, blocking the prying eyes from outside.
The other cultivators were incredulous.
"That fool wasn't torn to shreds?"
"He went right in! How did he get in?""That's not right, he looks so familiar, he..." someone exclaimed in shock, "he is Song Qianji!"
On the terrace, female cultivators examined the newcomer with puzzled expressions.
Feng Ziyi patted the tiger's head and stood up, smiling warmly: "Fellow Daoist Song, were you frightened?"
Chen Hongzhu rose almost simultaneously: "What are you doing here?"
She didn't know whether to be pleased or annoyed—why did Song Qianji appear everywhere?
This man caused too much trouble. Just because he wasn't allowed to descend the mountain in time, did he have to throw the Huawel Sect into complete chaos?
"I came to see the flowers," Song Qianji said.
The female cultivators waited for him to continue explaining, but after speaking, he said nothing more and walked directly toward the jade table to admire the plants under the glass cover.
Feng Ziyi explained: "I know this man. This is just his nature; he doesn't mean to offend anyone."
"Could he really be here just to see the flowers?"
Feng Ziyi nodded: "Exactly."
She wanted to add, "Don't flatter yourselves," but felt it inappropriate, as if she were the one being presumptuous. In the end, she only said:
"Let's continue admiring the flowers as well."
Chen Hongzhu tilted her head and rolled her eyes, thinking resentfully, "Are you that familiar with him?"
Why did she speak as if he were a disciple of their Dayan Sect?
Song Qianji suddenly asked: "May I ask, fellow cultivator, how was this flower cultivated? Why are there pieces of black gold ore placed in the soil?"
His attitude was polite, not like he was deliberately looking for trouble.
But the female cultivator he questioned was at a loss and could only force a smile: "There's an alchemist in my family who specializes in cultivating spirit herbs. He placed them there; I'm not very familiar with it."
Song Qianji nodded regretfully.
After asking two or three more questions, he realized these people knew nothing about soil geology, humidity and temperature control, or water and fertilizer balance.
How could this be called a "flower appreciation gathering"?
He shook his head inwardly, dismissing them as amateurs. They knew nothing about farming.
Song Qianji walked slowly, bending down to continue his observation.
At the end of the jade table, a pot of silver lotus bloomed in water, covered by a glass lid.
He asked: "Dare I ask, fellow cultivator, why are two pieces of cold crystal stone placed at the bottom of this water?"
The person behind the flower sat quietly, her voice faint:
"This silver lotus of mine naturally prefers cold environments and only grows in the frigid depths of Blood River Valley. The cold crystal stones are to maintain the temperature, but not too many—two are just right. The water in the pot is also drawn from the cold pond. Flowers severed from their branches are like people drifting far from home."
Song Qianji nodded: "Thank you."
But the voice sounded somewhat familiar. He looked up, gazing into the glow of the sunset.
This face was also familiar.
Miaoyan.
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