Chapter Thirty-Four: The Gift

Windshang’s face was expressionless. With a casual gesture, three dazzling Primordial Seeds soared from his side, landing before the ecstatic Little Wild Grass.

Seeing them, Little Wild Grass felt a surge of joy throughout her being. Her leaves caressed the treasures, and she couldn’t help but hum a little tune.

“I am the divine grass favored by the heavens, the mighty herb that carries great fortune. Every opponent who meets me is destined to self-destruct…”

The lyrics were unabashedly narcissistic, full of swagger, and the grass’s singing was off-key. Her excitement made one irresistibly want to ridicule her.

“Unlucky,” Windshang muttered, waving his hand. The splendid domain of the Primordial Stars vanished.

He rose to his full height, not even glancing at the triumphant Little Wild Grass, and strode directly toward the edge of the Sea of Flowers.

Little Wild Grass peeked at him, snickering. She thought to herself, if this had happened to her, she would have been utterly depressed. Victory was within reach, yet an irresistible force intervened, causing everything to collapse—a probability lower than one in a billion! He probably couldn’t bear to stay here any longer.

“Wait!” Nine Dreams blinked her bright eyes, summoned her courage, and called out to the slender, somewhat desolate figure she saw before her. The youth turned, arching his brow sharply, “What, you’ve won, and still want to flaunt it at me?”

“Thank you,” Nine Dreams said sincerely.

“Thank me?”

Windshang’s calm face suddenly flashed with ferocity; his gaze turned predatory as he approached, as if her poor acting had been seen through, radiating a dangerous aura. “You can’t possibly mean…”

“Thank you for sparing Listening Wind,” Nine Dreams quickly corrected herself, heart pounding, her fair face paling.

The aura rising from the youth was as terrifying as an ancient beast, wild and fierce, pressing down upon her. She felt like a lamb awaiting slaughter, powerless to resist.

It seemed that if she answered poorly, he would devour her in the next instant.

“Oh,” Windshang’s ferocity quietly receded, and he calmed.

Nine Dreams glanced back at Listening Wind. Little Wild Grass, obsessed with her newfound wealth, lay on the ground, hugging the Primordial Seeds and grinning foolishly, utterly delighted and oblivious to all else.

“This is for you,” Nine Dreams gently raised her delicate wrist. A ring of nine-colored radiant haze appeared along her skin, isolating their space. From the center of her elegant, fair brow a glow emerged, exuding an ethereal aura. As it appeared, the beautiful sea of flowers surrounding the tranquil land began to sway madly, branches and leaves rustling as if struck by an indescribable force.

Windshang was intrigued. In that instant, he too sensed a mysterious, ineffable power filling the air around them.

---

He vaguely perceived something, and opened his palm.

At some point, a miraculous and beautiful petal had appeared, exuding a gentle fragrance.

Windshang was about to touch it, but the petal transformed into radiant light, vanishing like a breeze.

“This will help you clear your mind,” Nine Dreams explained.

“Clear my mind?” Windshang looked perplexed, quietly attuning himself—he sensed the petal had not disappeared, but merged into his skin, releasing a pleasant scent. Other than that, nothing seemed to have changed.

“Thanks,” he replied offhandedly, then pierced through the void and vanished from the tranquil land.

“Master, what did you say to him just now?” Listening Wind finally ran over, grinning from ear to ear after acquiring four Primordial Seeds. She hadn’t noticed Nine Dreams giving the petal to Windshang.

“Nothing,” Nine Dreams replied, watching the youth depart. She gently picked up Listening Wind, her crescent smile brightening as she said, “Our Listening Wind is truly amazing—won four seeds!”

“Of course!” Little Wild Grass boasted even more. Whether in strength or luck, she had crushed that youth.

...

Leaving the Sea of Flowers, Windshang stretched lazily. The sky was bright and clear, dotted with floating clouds of spiritual energy. High in the domain, beautiful stars orbited slowly, majestic and grand.

“You hit the jackpot!” Suddenly, the ancient scroll vibrated, and an inexplicable voice sounded. Seventeen sharp markings flickered, and a small Azure Calamity emerged, staring intently at Windshang’s hand with a grave expression. It opened its mouth and spat forth a wave of innate azure energy.

“What’s this?” Windshang was startled as the azure energy enveloped his entire right hand, then seeped in and disappeared, masking the faint fragrance emanating from his palm.

“I’m helping you conceal your aura,” Azure Calamity said seriously. “I must warn you: do not reveal anything about this experience. If the seven divine lords of the Sea of Flowers learn of it, you will not escape their wrath—even if you hide in Nine Star City, they won’t let you off easily!”

Windshang was confused. “Are you sure you’re talking to me?”

“Of course. This is a matter of utmost importance. You met her at her most innocent and trusting age, and received her gift. If I hadn’t been refined into a scroll, I’d be immensely jealous of you,” Azure Calamity said, his tone wistful.

---

Windshang was astonished. The words seemed odd—what did it mean, “at her most innocent and trusting age”? What gift?

“You’re not talking about that petal, are you?” Windshang was incredulous. Just a petal—was it really worth all this fuss, the solemnity, and special effort to cover his aura?

“It’s absolutely necessary!” Azure Calamity declared, leaving no room for doubt.

“You don’t yet understand the meaning of such a gift. When you reach the proper realm, you’ll realize how extraordinary it was to encounter her in her youth and receive her favor,” Azure Calamity spoke poetically.

“This is getting more bizarre,” Windshang muttered, goosebumps rising. He seriously suspected Azure Calamity was exaggerating. “I don’t believe it—a mere petal, how could it possibly be so amazing?”

“You’ll understand one day,” Azure Calamity shook his head, unwilling to elaborate. He reminded again, “Remember, do not speak of this experience to anyone, especially the divine lords of the Sea of Flowers. For now, pretend nothing happened, and act as though you’ve been wandering the flowers all along.”

“What if I do tell?” Windshang asked, tempting fate.

“You’d be at fault. If the divine lords of the Sea of Flowers discover it, they’ll reclaim it. If you refuse, they’ll use all their influence. Not even the Nine Lords could suppress the Sea of Flowers’ fury,” Azure Calamity warned sternly.

“Don’t forget. If you can’t keep your mouth shut, just imagine what it would be like to be surrounded and attacked by the sons-in-law of the Sea of Flowers who hold power across the grand cultivation domains,” Azure Calamity repeated with utmost seriousness.

Windshang skeptically raised his hand. His palm was rosy and healthy, showing no unusual marks.

Originally, when the petal merged, there had been a faint fragrance. But after the innate azure energy covered it, the scent disappeared completely.

Just a flower petal—could it really be so formidable?

What was her name…

Windshang narrowed his eyes, recalling the moment they first met:

A spirited, immaculate maiden sat atop a celestial stone, swinging her clean, graceful snow-white feet, blinking her clear, bright eyes with curiosity as she gazed at him…