Chapter 12

The soft echo of footsteps filled the quiet courtyard—a sound he knew all too well.

A memory surfaced, unbidden. The first time he had opened his eyes, those very footsteps had carried that person out of the academy and paused right beside him.

Back then, the willows shimmered in golden-green hues, and spring was in full bloom.

But now...

He closed his eyes, gathering the last remnants of his strength.

Since their fates were never meant to entwine, it was time to cast aside longing. He had never truly understood the depth of that person’s thoughts, but there was one thing he had always known.

His flowering season had not yet arrived. It might take years before his petals finally unfurled. But what was the point of lingering in this world alone, waiting for a future that no longer mattered?

By then, Qin Yuxuan would have long forgotten this peony. Who would there be left to admire its blossoms?

From beginning to end, only one person had ever loved him, cherished him, and cared about him. Though their time together had been as fleeting as a passing cloud, it was etched into his very being.

If he had to burn through all his cultivation to bloom tonight, then so be it.

A tremor ran through his slender branches. Tender buds began to push through the stems, one by one. 

He caught a glimpse of surprise flickering across that person’s face. A soft, quiet joy bloomed within him.

It was just like that day, long ago, when he had first stepped into human form and appeared before that person. He had seen that same expression then—though it had vanished in an instant, replaced by an elegant smile.

At a speed visible to the naked eye, the buds grew from tender to firm, each one like a piece of jade, delicate and luminous under the dim light.

His vision blurred for a moment, and it was as if he were back on that rainy day—droplets clinging to his lashes as he watched Qin Yuxuan standing before him, an oil-paper umbrella in hand, a smile dancing on his lips.

"If you were a beautiful flower spirit, I might just ask you to repay me with marriage..."

The jade-like buds began to blossom, unfolding in a slow, trembling cascade.

It seemed it was right here that he had once set out a feast, only for that person to chuckle and feed him a bite—feigning dominance yet speaking with such tenderness.

Teaching him to write, pressing soft kisses to his skin. Whispering sweet nothings to him as they made love—words Xiao Ye could never tire of.

There had been... so much more.

But the memories were slipping, dissolving like ink in water, no matter how desperately he tried to grasp them.

His forehead dampened with sweat. His vision swam—then cleared—then swam again. Was he truly... losing himself?

Somewhere, faintly, he could hear it—the gentle, rhythmic sound of petals unfurling.

He took one last look at the person before him. So beautiful, so beautiful.

But... who was it?

An ache pierced his chest, sudden and sharp, but he could only close his eyes helplessly.

Wait for me to return.

Just before his consciousness unravelled completely, a voice echoed through, persistent, haunting.

Someone had once said those words, hadn’t they?

He had waited. 

And he had lost.