The Eccentric Flower Shop
Wanwan completely immersed herself in the flower and bird market, as if she had entered her own little garden, marveling at the various rare and exotic plants, unable to take it all in at once.
“Brother, this potted flower is beautiful, and that tree is also beautiful. It can even bear fruits that we can eat.”
Wanwan stopped in front of an orange tree, looking up at its lush branches and leaves.
She squatted down, furrowing her brows, and gently touched the trunk of the orange tree.
Xia Zhihuai noticed her sudden pause, bent down to glance at the orange tree, and then looked at her serious expression, asking, “What’s wrong?”
“The little orange is complaining. It says it doesn’t like the small black pot, it feels uncomfortable inside.”
Wanwan spoke like a child, and Xia Zhihuai found it inexplicable, but a child’s world is meant to be imaginative.
Xia Zhihuai didn’t think much about it either and pondered for a moment before comforting her, “Once the little orange tree finds a suitable buyer, it can move to a new home and no longer live in such a cramped flower pot.”
Wanwan’s eyes suddenly brightened, looking at Xia Zhihuai with anticipation, “Then can we take the little orange tree home? Please, brother?”
Xia Zhihuai hesitated for a few seconds, then looked at the little one with hopeful eyes and said, “Didn’t you say you wanted to buy a peach tree?”
“Can we have both?” Wanwan turned her head, looking at him with pleading eyes.
She was reluctant to give up this little orange tree because she had circled the flower and bird market for quite a while, and only this particular orange tree had a special aura.
She could even hear the little orange tree complaining from afar.
Although it currently lacked sufficient aura and couldn’t transform into a fairy like her, with suitable conditions and years of cultivation, it could potentially become a little nature spirit.
If it continued to be planted in a pot, the little orange tree would wither.
…
Xia Zhihuai lifted her up from the ground and carried her into the seemingly inconspicuous shop.
The shop was unusually quiet, with no one in sight.
Wanwan also looked around and suddenly tugged at Xia Zhihuai’s collar, pointing to a rocking chair blocked by flowers.
“Over there.”
Xia Zhihuai saw a man lying on the rocking chair, wearing a light gray robe with a navy blue jacket on the upper body, a typical attire from the late Qing Dynasty.
He wore a pair of black cloth shoes and had a rolled-up copy of the “Xishan Scriptures” covering his face.
This appearance, this attire, instantly transported people back to the twilight of the empire.
As if one could catch a glimpse of the rigid rules and hidden fragrances of cosmetics concealed within that declining era.
“Sir, we’d like to buy some flowers.”
Xia Zhihuai quickly regained his composure and tapped the wooden counter at waist height.
Wanwan looked at the man lying on the rocking chair curiously, blinked her eyes, and struggled to slip out of Xia Zhihuai’s embrace.
With light steps, she walked to the side of the rocking chair and tiptoed to uncover the “Xishan Scriptures” on the man’s face.
Before her short fingers could touch the book cover, they were caught by a slender hand.
The man lying on the rocking chair opened the book with his left hand, lifted an eyelid to glance at the little figure in front of him, and then released her hand, lightly tapping her forehead, “Buying flowers, huh?”
Wanwan covered her forehead with both hands, puffed her cheeks, and stared at the man with big round eyes.
“Yes, sir, how much is that orange tree outside?” Xia Zhihuai bent down to rub Wanwan’s head, then pointed to the orange tree outside and asked.
The shopkeeper straightened his body, supported the chair, and leaned his head to look outside. He smiled with a raised corner of his mouth, “Fixed price, four hundred.”
“No bargaining for small businesses.”
Xia Zhihuai looked at the rather large orange tree and asked, “Are you responsible for home delivery?”
“No free delivery, home delivery will cost an additional fifty.”
The shopkeeper raised five fingers, smiling as he looked at Xia Zhihuai.
Xia Zhihuai raised an eyebrow, “Can’t you make it cheaper?”
“Next door, they have cheaper orange trees. You can go to there.” The shopkeeper didn’t follow the usual logic, displaying an attitude of “it’s totally up to you”. He clearly wasn’t enthusiastic about this deal.
As Xia Zhihuai continued to contemplate, he lowered his head and saw the little one staring at him with her eyes fixed on him.
He placed the ancient book on the square table, picked up the teapot from the small stove beside him, and poured two cups of steaming hot tea on the tea table.
“Do you want some tea, little girl?”
Wanwan had found the shopkeeper strange from the moment she saw him.
She sensed a spiritual fluctuation in her boss, but couldn’t see through his true form.
All she could see were his pointed and furry upright ears on top of his head.
They resembled a dog and a fox, somewhat.
However, she didn’t dare to expose him directly; this mischievous being must have a considerable cultivation level.
Both Brother Azure Dragon and Little Qilin had mentioned that it was not easy for demonic beings to cultivate in the mortal realm.
In recent years, due to continuous human expansion into new territories, it has become increasingly difficult for wild mischievous beings to survive in the mountains and forests.
They had to learn to conceal their identities in the human world, just to make a living.
As long as they didn’t do anything wrong, there was no need to expose their true nature.
This was probably what they said… “Life is already so difficult; some things are better left unspoken”, right?
…
After being stared at by a pair of clean and clear big eyes for a long time, the boss calmly picked up his teacup, blowing away the lingering mist.
He savored a sip with relish and casually picked up the “Xishan Scriptures” beside him, playfully pressing it against the little one’s face. “Why are you staring at me? Is there something on my face?”
The little one held the book against her face with tender and short hands, carefully placing it back on the table, and stood on tiptoes, wanting to touch the furry ears.
The boss’s ears were white, and after being stared at for a while, they subtly twitched, displaying great spirituality. “Can I touch your furry ears?”
On tiptoes, the little one made an effort to approach the shopkeeper, speaking in a hushed voice.
The man sitting on the rocking chair stiffened, his playful expression fading slightly.
He placed the teacup on the table and scrutinized the little baby who resembled a winter melon spirit.
With both hands holding the little one’s face, he turned it to the left and then to the right.
No matter how he looked at it, it seemed like a human infant. How did she see through his demonic form at a glance?
“Uncle, can you let Wanwan go?”
With her round face being held, the little one struggled to speak, her voice particularly soft and low.
The shopkeeper released his grip, fanning himself with a folding fan, and scratched his head with his index finger.
“Then, tell Uncle, which family’s fairy baby are you?”
The little one rubbed her round face and made a few facial expressions before earnestly answering, “Wanwan is a little peach fairy baby, three thousand years old this year.”
The shopkeeper: “…”
“Don’t bully me for being ignorant.”
The boss solemnly deceived the child, “Little girl, if you lie, you’ll wet your pants at night.”
The little one didn’t believe it. Her age might be even older than this fairy uncle, and wetting her pants was definitely not something that would happen to her.
“Wanwan is a peach spirit baby, and all the immortals know it.”
The boss found it amusing. This little fellow was so serious, that he wondered how her elders had taught her.
“Like this, we won’t be able to continue our conversation.”
With her hands on her hips, Tao Wanwan was just like an irritable little pufferfish.
“I’m telling the truth; it’s too tiring to talk to you adults. You don’t listen to the truth; you only want to hear lies.”
“What’s the lie?” The shopkeeper looked at her with amusement.
The little one glared at him for a while, but it was useless. Covering her slightly twitching eyes, she muttered, “The lie is that Wanwan is a human infant.”
The boss surprisingly accepted this answer.
Because he didn’t sense any trace of demonic energy from Wanwan, either she was a pure human infant, or she was a little one raised by a powerful demon family, who had already learned the spell to conceal demonic energy at such a young age or was wearing a magical artifact to hide it.
Seeing that he actually believed her so easily, Wanwan was about to explode with anger.
She turned her head away from the boss for a few seconds but quickly came to a realization.
Forget it, she was a little peach fairy and couldn’t bother with those little mischievous beings. Elders should have their own magnanimity.