Chapter 2

The others were momentarily stunned before bursting into racuous laughter.

"This? It’s just a scraggly thing—not even sure what it is..."

He trembled all over, lowering his head.

All these years, he had focused solely on cultivating and never thought about his identity, nor seen his own appearance. Judging from their words, he must be terribly unsightly.

"It’s a peony," Qin Yuxuan said.

His voice was clear and calm, as if covering for him. Warmth bloomed in Little Flower's chest. 

Someone scoffed. "What kind of peony is this? So thin and frail, completely lacking in vitality. It’s already flowering season, yet not a single bud—surely it won’t last long..."

Qin Yuxuan ignored them, crouching down to study his leaves. Little Flower knew the young man couldn’t see his spirit body, yet the way he looked at him filled him with a quiet thrill.

"Come on, let's go. I heard the new courtesan, Du Hanyan, is making her debut at Suoyan House tonight. You'll regret if you don't go early to grab good seats."

"You really do understand me." Qin Yuxuan stood up with a smile. Little Leaf gazed at him, mesmerized. 

As that striking figure walked away, Little Flower's eyes drifted to the old teacher standing at the academy entrance. The elder sighed, shaking his head. "In the prime of youth, yet wasting it in places of fleeting pleasure... What a pity." 

Little Flower didn't fully grasp the meaning , but he thought that the beauty they had spoken of earlier must be thousands of times more dazzling than himself. 

Every tree, flower, fish, and bird had its own charm if one looked closely. Yet among them all, he was the least remarkable.

How could a peony possibly look like him? 

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧  ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅

From that day on, whenever that young man visited, his companions never failed to tease him. 

"Yuxuan ignored all the beautiful peonies, but chose this to admire this flowerless little thing..." 

"If it could at least transform into a flower fairy—but even then, it's so thin and frail, it wouldn't be anything special..." 

He lowered his head, hiding behind his leaves in shame. But that person never mocked him. He simply smiled and said: "Everything has its own beauty, and beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I just happen to like this one."

A yearning took root within him. He longed to grow, to flourish like the other peonies, lush and heavy with blossoms.

Even if it was only to prove that person right.

But no matter how hard he tried, his branches and leaves grew at a painstakingly slow pace. As for flower buds? Not even a shadow of one.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧  ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅

Before he knew it, spring had turned into summer. Though his cultivation had improved, he still couldn't take on a human form. 

Qin Yuxuan continued to visit, sometimes pausing to smile or speak to him. Even when he was in a rush, his warm gaze seemed to linger on him for a split second before he hurried past. 

Little Flower didn't know when it started, but he began to wait for him each day, yearning for even the briefest glance. 

One afternoon, the wind picked up suddenly. The sky darkened as thick storm clouds rolled in. 

A drizzle turned into a downpour, and the old teacher granted everyone a rare half-day off. Soon, the young masters trickled out in twos and threes, hurrying home. 

From a distance, he spotted Qin Yuxuan dashing through rain— but this time, he didn’t so much as glance in his direction. He simply rushed past.

Little Flower froze, an inexplicable sense of loss settling over him. It was as if something precious had slipped through his fingers, never to return.

The storm broke in earnest. The wind howled, and the rain lashed against his frail leaves. A sharp gust tore one of his branches clean off.

Tears blurred his vision, though he wasn't sure whether it was from the pain or the heartache. 

It was daytime but as dark as night. He shut his eyes, unwilling to look the raging storm any longer. Instead, he thought of that person's smile, of his warm, reassuring voice. 

Somehow, he felt a lot calmer. He no longer felt the bone-chilling rain—even the wind seemed to have abated. 

He opened his eyes in confusion, only to meet a familiar gaze.

Qin Yuxuan stood before him, his sky-blue robe soaked and muddied, dark hair dripping with rain. Yet he held an oil-paper umbrella steady, shielding him from the relentless downpour.

An hour passed. Qin Yuxuan remained by his side, now sitting. He teased, "I’ve treated you well, haven’t I?"

Little Flower nearly burst into tears again. He frantically nodded—but to the young man, it must have seemed like nothing more than his leaves trembling in the wind.

"So how will you repay me?" Qin Yuxuan continued, as if talking to himself. His eyes curved, gleaming with playful mischief. "If you were a beautiful flower spirit, I might just ask you to repay me with marriage..."

Summer storms never lasted long. Before they knew it, the rain had passed and the clouds parted. Warm sunlight streamed down through the trees, dappling the shadows beneath them. Droplets clung to the leaves, sparkling like scattered pearls.

"It finally stopped." The man smiled, tucking away the umbrella and stretching slightly.

Behind him, a tiny flower spirit sat with cheeks burning and heart pounding—completely lost in thought.