Chapter 4: Bullying

Yun Qingxue, taking advantage of her current form as a peony, unabashedly observed the three men while secretly speculating about the identities of the other two who had arrived with Prince Ning.

The blue-robed man leading the group seemed to hold a higher status than Prince Ning. From a distance, the three appeared to walk side by side, but upon closer inspection, it became clear that Prince Ning and the black-robed man were trailing two or three steps behind the blue-robed man. Moreover, Prince Ning’s demeanor toward him was one of deep reverence. Who else could command such deference from a prince of the realm but—the emperor?

And what of the black-robed man? Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Prince Ning, could he also be a prince? Had they been drawn here by the commotion in the garden just now?

“Your garden is quite lively tonight, Royal Brother,” the blue-robed man remarked with apparent amusement as he walked ahead.

Prince Ning bowed slightly and replied with a hint of resignation, “A man’s only crime is possessing a treasure others covet.”

“Oh?” The emperor turned to Prince Ning, intrigued. “I’m quite curious—what treasure might you be hiding in your estate, Royal Brother?”

*The emperor?* Yun Qingxue frowned. So the blue-robed man truly was the emperor. What business did the emperor have in Prince Ning’s manor in the dead of night?

“Ah,” Prince Ning sighed with a wry smile. “It’s all because of that Lantian Warm Jade!”

“Lantian Warm Jade?” The emperor raised an eyebrow. “I recall that the State Preceptor took that jade from you.”

“Indeed. The State Preceptor claimed it would aid his cultivation, so I gifted it to him. However, outsiders remain unaware of this, and thus, I’ve been burdened with the crime of hoarding treasure on his behalf!” Prince Ning finished with a gentle smile, casting a glance at the haughty black-robed man.

“Your Highness seems to have strayed from the matter at hand,” the black-robed man interjected coldly. “We accompanied His Majesty tonight to deal with the calamitous demon foretold by my divination!”

Prince Ning’s expression remained unperturbed, his smile still warm. “The garden holds only a half-dead old Daoist and a collection of plants. Could the demon you speak of be that very Daoist?”

The emperor turned to the State Preceptor, his gaze questioning.

The State Preceptor cast a disdainful glance at the feeble old man held by the guards and shook his head firmly. “He is unworthy of being called a calamitous demon—at best, a wicked sorcerer with ill intentions.”

The emperor and Prince Ning exchanged a glance. “If it’s not him, then the hour grows late. State Preceptor, you must swiftly identify the true demon,” the emperor commanded.

Listening to their exchange, Yun Qingxue’s heart sank. Aside from the old Daoist, the only other presence in the garden was the lark hidden in the tree. These men hadn’t come because of the earlier disturbance—they were here to hunt a calamitous demon. With the old Daoist ruled out, that left only her, the lark, and the seemingly ordinary plants filling the garden. But she was merely a peony with consciousness, unable to move. Did that mean the State Preceptor’s demon was—the lark?

Worried, she stole a glance at the tree where the lark was concealed.

The State Preceptor bowed to the emperor and raised a hand, forming a mystical seal. He pressed a finger to his forehead, and a golden light flashed through his eyes.

Yun Qingxue watched his every move with a frown. Were it not for her concern for the little lark that had risked its life to save her, she might have applauded the State Preceptor’s technique, which rivaled the Fiery Golden Eyes of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. But now, she had no such inclination, silently praying instead: *Let this State Preceptor’s skill be nothing more than an empty show, far from the true power of Sun Wukong’s vision!*

The State Preceptor’s golden gaze swept across the garden. Yun Qingxue held her breath as his eyes paused on the tree where the lark hid. Her heart leaped into her throat.

Fortunately, his scrutiny lasted only a moment before moving on. She exhaled in relief—only for her breath to catch again as his piercing gaze landed squarely on her.

Under that stare, she felt utterly exposed, as if every secret had been laid bare.

Then, the State Preceptor ceased his search and strode toward her.

“Your Highness, where did you obtain this flower?” he demanded urgently, staring fixedly at the blue-blooded peony in the pot.

Prince Ning frowned and gestured toward the captive old Daoist. “That sorcerer brought it days ago, intending to trade it for the Lantian Warm Jade I had already gifted to you, State Preceptor.”

“Royal Brother, you’ve been reckless!” the emperor suddenly rebuked.

Prince Ning dropped to one knee. “Your Majesty, forgive me. I acknowledge my fault.”

“Royal Brother, I know you delight in cultivating plants and have always trusted your judgment. How could you be so careless? Do you not realize this blue-blooded peony is no ordinary flower? Even my imperial gardens dare not harbor such a thing!”

“Your Majesty, I am aware that the blue-blooded peony is of the noblest lineage among the spirit flora. I never intended to keep it—there were extenuating circumstances.”

The emperor frowned, waiting for an explanation, while the State Preceptor before Yun Qingxue seemed lost in meditation, his fingers rapidly tracing unseen calculations.

Prince Ning continued, “When I first saw this peony, I was equally shocked. I questioned the sorcerer on how he came by it. He claimed that despite its noble origins, its intellect was no greater than a human child of three. He said he found it wandering the wilderness, seemingly abandoned by its kin, and so he subdued it with magic, returning it to its floral form before presenting it to me.”

“Since when have you been so credulous, Royal Brother?” the emperor chided.

“Naturally, I doubted him,” Prince Ning replied. “Thus, I exchanged a counterfeit jade for the flower and placed it in the finest spot in my garden, tending to it diligently, hoping it might absorb the essence of sun and moon and depart of its own accord. Yet days passed without change. I had planned to consult the State Preceptor tomorrow on how to send it away—only for him to divine tonight that a calamitous demon had descended upon my estate. Since fate has brought him here, perhaps he might also devise a way to return this flower to its rightful place.”

The emperor turned to the State Preceptor, about to order him to restore Yun Qingxue to human form and send her away, but the State Preceptor chose that moment to open his eyes, his usual arrogance replaced by unprecedented gravity.

“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing, “this blue-blooded peony must not be sent away.”

“Why not?” the emperor asked, frowning.

The State Preceptor spoke slowly, each word weighted. “My divinations confirm that the calamitous demon foretold is none other than this very flower.”

Both the emperor and Prince Ning stared at him in shock.

“State Preceptor, are you certain? This is no trivial matter,” the emperor pressed.

“I have calculated multiple times. There is no mistake,” the State Preceptor affirmed, his tone grave.

Yun Qingxue, still rooted in her pot, was utterly stunned. *She* was the calamitous demon? How could that be? She was the one they had been searching for?

*Is fate determined to toy with me to death?* she thought bitterly. *Since ancient times, how many labeled as demons have met a kind end?*

She dared not imagine what awaited her if this accusation held. First, she had transmigrated into an immobile flower—now this? One misfortune after another!

The emperor fell silent. If the State Preceptor’s divination had pointed to a minor demon, execution would have sufficed to avert disaster. But to name a blue-blooded peony—a royal among spirit flora—as the culprit was tantamount to declaring war. Should the floral clans learn of this, relations with humanity would sour, and the consequences were unforeseeable.

“Your Majesty,” the State Preceptor urged, “this threat cannot remain.”

The emperor raised a hand. “For now, take the flower to the palace under close watch. As for its disposition, we shall deliberate further.”

The State Preceptor opened his mouth to protest, but the emperor had already turned away. Prince Ning rose and intercepted him. “As His Majesty said, this requires careful consideration. State Preceptor, you must understand—a misstep here could plunge the world into chaos long before any demon’s influence.”

The State Preceptor paused, then nodded. “I understand. But delay risks greater danger.”

“The flower was brought by that old Daoist. Let us first interrogate him thoroughly,” Prince Ning suggested.

“Agreed,” the State Preceptor said. “However, given this flower’s significance, it cannot be taken to the palace. I propose relocating it to my Astral Observatory, where I may bind it with spells to prevent unforeseen events.”

Prince Ning considered briefly. “Very well. Take the flower, then. I shall catch up to His Majesty and explain. But remember—until a solution is found, the blue-blooded peony must remain unharmed.”

“Naturally,” the State Preceptor agreed.

Prince Ning added, “The hour is late. Tomorrow, I shall join you in questioning the Daoist.”

The State Preceptor assented and summoned guards to carry the peony away, the old Daoist in tow.

Yun Qingxue glanced back to see the lark emerge from its hiding place, flying toward her.

*Don’t be reckless!* she mentally shouted.

The lark hesitated mid-flight, clearly hearing her.

*I’m safe for now. Tend to your wounds, then find a way to help me later!*

The lark ceased its descent but lingered, circling above.

*If you’re caught, you’ll doom us both! Go!*

With a final chirp, the lark flapped its wings and vanished into the night.

The State Preceptor halted, frowning at the sky.

Prince Ning stopped beside him. “What is it?”

“A member of the Firmament Feather clan,” the State Preceptor answered.

“Is there cause for concern?” Prince Ning asked anxiously. With the blue-blooded peony already a dilemma, the appearance of a feather clan member risked pitting humanity against the entire spirit realm.

“Nothing of note. Rumor holds that the Phoenix King of the Firmament Feathers has returned from his rebirth. The clan is likely preparing for the grand Sky Pilgrimage in his honor. This one was merely passing through.” The State Preceptor lowered his gaze.

Prince Ning exhaled in relief. No further complications, then.

Then, recalling something, he turned to the State Preceptor. “The Phoenix is reborn every five centuries, each time heralded by a gathering of birds in celestial homage. Our kingdom’s people are fortunate indeed to witness such a spectacle.”