Elder Huang

A humanoid shadow loomed over Zhong Yun, making his heart nearly stop beating.

"It seems you've made some powerful enemies. Someone wants you dead." The aged voice of Yang Siqing arrived just in time, and Zhong Yun realized it was only a false alarm.

Leaning against the wall, Zhong Yun did not ask about the fate of his attacker, but instead inquired after the old man, "Are you alright?"

Yang Siqing glanced at him in surprise, thinking, "I didn't expect this youngster to care about others," and though his heart was warmed, he replied disdainfully, "If I couldn't handle such small fry, I'd have wasted all my years."

He was fiddling with an object shaped like a submachine gun from a previous era, though its size was much smaller—no bigger than two palms put together.

"What is that?" With the elder's reassurance, Zhong Yun relaxed and, noticing the device in his hands, asked.

"A miniature lightwave pulse gun. Quite the little marvel," Yang Siqing replied with keen interest. "The lightwave it fires is lethal to the heart. Those struck by it often die instantly of cardiac failure."

"Moreover, everyone will assume it was sudden heart disease. Even if sent to the forensic experts, nothing would show up, since the symptoms match heart failure exactly."

Zhong Yun shuddered at the thought. If he hadn't encountered Yang Siqing today—who insisted on following him—he might already be another unjust ghost, his death shrouded in mystery.

"This time, I truly owe you my life," Zhong Yun said sincerely.

The old man’s lips curved into a small smile. "If you really wish to repay me, bring Qingqing back to life."

"I promise I will do my best," Zhong Yun solemnly pledged.

Yang Siqing nodded and fell silent, stowing away the gun.

Zhong Yun stood as well. Just moments before, the danger had been so acute he hadn't felt anything, but now that the threat had passed, his limbs felt weak. He chuckled at himself—his courage was still lacking.

He resolved inwardly that, upon returning, he would have Zero train him thoroughly. Only by growing stronger could he protect himself and those around him.

This world was far less safe than he'd ever imagined.

With that thought, a sense of pressure rose from deep within, urging him forward.

"Is it hard to get hold of that gun?" Zhong Yun asked, shaking out his stiff hands.

"Though it kills silently, it has fatal flaws—its range is too short, only fifty meters effective, and it consumes a lot of energy, allowing only two shots per energy unit. Its power is also too limited; at most, it can kill a single person."

"Therefore, it's not mass-produced. But as an unrivaled assassination tool—because it leaves no trace—it has become favored by certain factions... Still, not just any stray cat or dog can get one."

Yang Siqing hinted that Zhong Yun's enemies were formidable.

Zhong Yun said nothing. Once he felt recovered, he headed toward Elder Huang's home. Nearing the door, he asked, "What about that attacker—how did you handle it?"

Yang Siqing, trailing behind, replied casually, "I took care of it cleanly. There won't be any loose ends."

Shuddering at the casualness with which a life was taken, Zhong Yun felt a chill. No matter how advanced civilization became, the law of the jungle remained unchanged.

But who could hate him so much, as to wish him dead? A few faces flashed through his mind.

Lost in thought, they arrived at Elder Huang’s house. He pressed the doorbell, and the door swung open.

"You again?" Elder Huang frowned upon seeing Yang Siqing behind Zhong Yun. He’d thought he’d finally gotten rid of this pest, but the ghost had returned.

Zhong Yun was surprised. For someone as composed as Elder Huang, it was odd to see him so openly displeased with Yang Siqing. What had the old man done to warrant such animosity?

"Hello, Elder Huang. We meet again," Yang Siqing greeted him, unfazed by his attitude, demonstrating remarkable thick-skinned resilience.

Though helpless, Elder Huang could not drive him away for Zhong Yun’s sake. He said, "I've already told you, I really can't help with that plant."

"Don't worry, I won't trouble you anymore," Yang Siqing replied.

"Really?" Elder Huang, half-believing, felt some relief. As long as he wasn’t pestered further, he’d be content.

He then shot Zhong Yun a suspicious look, wanting to ask something but holding back, and brought them both inside.

Elder Huang’s home was spacious, more a garden than a house. The courtyard was filled with numerous plants—mostly common trees and flowers—not quite befitting his status.

Noticing the strange look on Zhong Yun’s face, Elder Huang smiled, "In nature, all plants are equal; there is no hierarchy. Humans alone divide them into grades."

"Each plant has its own unique beauty, only most people are blinded by their utilitarian desires and fail to see it."

He gazed at the plants he’d nurtured with his own hands. "All the flora here are best suited to the climate."

His words broadened Zhong Yun’s perspective, confirming Elder Huang’s extraordinary open-mindedness. Looking again at the garden, Zhong Yun felt the vibrant vitality of life.

After seating them in the drawing room, Elder Huang personally brewed tea.

With a cup of tea warming his stomach, Zhong Yun spoke of his purpose, "I’ve come today mainly to thank you for your kindness." He took out a small item, "Just a little gift, a token of my appreciation."

Elder Huang chuckled, accepting the small box and opening it immediately, revealing a delicate, exquisite pair of pruning shears.

"Oh?" Elder Huang took out the shears, surprised.

Zhong Yun explained, "Yunqi told me your No. 9 branch shears had gone missing, so I bought a replacement. Do you think it suits?"

"Perfect, perfect." Elder Huang’s face broke into irrepressible joy, clearly delighted by the gift.

The No. 9 shears were rare and seldom used except by professionals, making them hard to find. The item itself was secondary; with Elder Huang’s status, he lacked for nothing. What truly pleased him was the thoughtfulness of the young man.

"How is the 'Seven Fairies' plant doing?" Zhong Yun changed the subject.

"It’s growing well. 'Seven Fairies' isn’t a delicate breed, and it’s easy to care for," Elder Huang replied, setting the shears back in their box, placing it on the table.

"Mr. Fei plans to hold an exhibition when 'Seven Fairies' blooms, inviting many distinguished guests. As its former owner, would you like to attend?"

"I’ll skip the crowd," Zhong Yun said. He was focused on training himself, with no time for exhibitions.

"If you change your mind, just let me know," Elder Huang said.

"The 'Seven Fairies' you’re talking about—is it the rare gem mutated from Violet Magnolia?" Yang Siqing couldn’t help but ask. Since investing all his emotions in the Crystal Rose, he’d learned much about flowers to become a qualified gardener, so he’d heard of 'Seven Fairies'.

"Of course. What other 'Seven Fairies' could there be?" Elder Huang replied curtly.

"But isn't 'Seven Fairies' supposed to be extinct? How did the Fei family get one?" Yang Siqing muttered.

"That’s thanks to young Yun. If not for him, 'Seven Fairies' wouldn’t have returned to the world," Elder Huang stroked his beard.

"What?" Yang Siqing’s gaze at Zhong Yun changed instantly. "You cultivated the 'Seven Fairies'?"

"Am I the type to lie?" Elder Huang said, displeased.

Yang Siqing never doubted Elder Huang, but the matter was so extraordinary he couldn’t help but confirm it. Once certain, a surge of wild joy filled his heart. If Zhong Yun could revive 'Seven Fairies', perhaps his promise to save Qingqing wasn’t mere bravado.

"My Qingqing can be saved!"

"What?" This time, Elder Huang’s expression changed dramatically.