Chapter 32 – Planting Chrysanthemums, Withering All the Peach Blossoms on the Peninsula
The fishing boat rocked gently upon the lake. An old man with wind-whistling gaps between his front teeth clambered out of the cabin, steadied his pole, and ferried Lu Fan and his companions to the heart of the island. The wooden wheels of the chair touched down on the moss-lined bricks that paved the central isle.
Lu Fan lifted his gaze. In the distance, a mist-veiled grove of peach trees burst into bloom—soft pink petals glowing in the hazy light, human beauty blending with nature's charm. Deep within the sea of flowers, a delicate and exquisite tower stood half-concealed, as if woven from a dream. Laughter, lilting and sweet like orioles and swallows singing, drifted faintly from within.
The fragrance of peach blossoms suffused the island. As the breeze swept through, the trees swayed, scattering petals like a blushing snowfall, casting an enchanting spell over the landscape.
In the distance, behind the carved wooden doors of the Drunken Dust Pavilion, slender silhouettes flitted like butterflies. Laughing songstresses—decked in gauzy robes that revealed flawless skin and adorned with intricate makeup—emerged eagerly under the guidance of the madam, their round paper fans fluttering like wings. They stepped out one by one, eager to catch a glimpse of the young lord who would soon become master of this place… and perhaps, their lives.
They were courtesans, women cast adrift in the currents of the red dust. If they could win Lu Fan's favor, they would never have to fear the future again. To become his main wife was a distant dream, but even as a concubine, a lifetime of wealth and honor would be theirs. As for those sappy scholars of yore… let the past drift away like smoke.
Nie Changqing cast a peculiar glance at Lu Fan, who remained composed in his wheelchair. Without a word, he stepped forward, lifting his butcher's blade and placing himself between Lu Fan and the approaching courtesans. The blade hovered level in the air, pointing silently at those charming yet story-filled eyes. His stance made the women hesitate, halting their advances at a distance.
"Push me forward, Sister Ning," Lu Fan said, paying no mind to the songstresses, while gently rubbing his fingers.
Ning Zhao nodded softly. Her delicate hands gripped the wheelchair as she began to push. The wooden wheels crushed fallen peach petals as they made their way toward the Drunken Dust Pavilion.
"Oh right, Xiao Ni," Lu Fan suddenly called out, turning to Ni Yu, who had grown visibly pale from seasickness.
"Here are ten seeds. Find ten spots on the island and plant them," he said, handing her the ten "Skyward Spirit Chrysanthemum" seeds granted by the system.
Ni Yu cupped her hands to receive them, pausing in surprise. Each seed was as smooth and lustrous as jade, exuding a faint, enchanting fragrance. To her—they resembled roasted broad beans. And with an empty stomach, temptation struck hard.
"Y-Young Master…" she stammered, eyes gleaming.
"Hm?" Lu Fan blinked.
"These broad beans… Can I eat them?" she asked, mouth already watering.
Lu Fan's face darkened. He nearly leapt from his chair to kick this greedy girl. "These are chrysanthemum seeds! Not broad beans!"
Ni Yu's face fell with disappointment.
"No, you absolutely can't eat them!" he scolded. "You'll regret it if you do! If you sneak even one, I'll have the old boatman row you in circles in the middle of the lake!"
This dire threat snapped her out of her daze. These ten seeds were vital to Lu Fan's transformation of Beiluo's lake island—like sunflowers in the "Plants vs. Zombies" game from his past life.
The thought of spinning endlessly on the lake churned her stomach anew. Resigned but regretful, Ni Yu hoisted her game board, cradled the seeds, and trudged off to dig.
…
On the lake island's edge, among swaying peach trees, a petite figure darted beneath the sunlit boughs. Ni Yu, carrying ten "Skyward Spirit Chrysanthemum" seeds, was in high spirits as she searched for suitable planting spots.
Sow one seed today, reap a mountain of chrysanthemums tomorrow.
This light, pressure-free task suited her just fine. Young Master clearly favored her—he never called her for bloodshed.
She found a gap between two towering peach trees, picked up a fallen branch, and crouched down, humming softly as she dug a small hole.
Once it was ready, she gently placed a single seed within, covered it with soil, patted it down with both feet, and watered it from a small gourd. Then she carved the words "Chrysanthemum One" into the tree trunk beside it to mark the spot.
With a satisfied hum, she skipped down the shoreline, planting each seed at regular intervals. From "Chrysanthemum One" to "Chrysanthemum Ten," each one was perfectly spaced.
By the time she finished, her face was flushed, and sweat beaded on her brow. She stood with hands on hips, beaming with pride. Then she turned back to admire her handiwork—and perhaps to earn some praise from her Young Master.
But the moment she looked back, her chubby little face froze.
The smile on her lips slowly faded.
The peach trees that once covered the island, filling the air with fragrance and color, were suddenly… different.
The grove around "Chrysanthemum One" visibly withered—its vibrant blossoms shriveling as if drained of life, moisture gone, vitality sapped. The petals, once bright and soft, now curled and cracked like parchment left too long under the sun.
From paradise to purgatory—in the blink of an eye.
And it wasn't just one tree.
From "Chrysanthemum One" to "Chrysanthemum Ten," a chain of decay spread in sequence—like a circuit being shut down.
She stared, trembling.
The freshly planted seeds were already breaking through the soil, shimmering green, and swaying in the breeze. Their stems, like polished jade, glistened under the sunlight like carved crystal.
Ni Yu's legs went weak. Her face turned ghostly pale.
Young Master hadn't lied. These seeds… were something else entirely.
A sudden gust swept across the island.
Boom—
The peach blossoms exploded in the wind, as if they were fragile ashes struck by a shockwave. Petals filled the sky—withered and dead, like a snowfall of pale feathers from a land of ghosts.
Ni Yu was stunned.
She wasn't alone. The courtesans, still frozen by Nie Changqing's presence, were now gasping in horror—collapsing to the ground in terror.
They had lived alongside these peach trees for years.
Yet in a single moment, the entire peninsula of blossoms had been laid to waste.
As if some devil had awoken on the island.
A chill surged from the soles of their feet, rising to their hearts.
Humans have always feared the unknown.
Ni Yu stared at the ten verdant chrysanthemum sprouts, swaying in the breeze.
She could almost see streams of energy gathering from all corners of the earth—flowing into those shimmering stems. As if… the life essence of the peach trees had been devoured, sacrificed to nourish the growth of these sinister blooms.
Her knees buckled.
Her face was deathly white.
Young Master wasn't lying… These were not broad beans.
At that moment, Ni Yu's flat chest rose and fell in panic. She exhaled deeply, shivering in the aftermath.
Thank the heavens—
She hadn't eaten one.