Chapter Seventy-Four: Standing Alone in Splendor

“The one destined for you bears the surname Han,” the old man mused once again, nodding at Luoshui with a knowing air as if confirming his judgment. “Your future is destined to be resplendent with starlight, and he too must be a man of remarkable standing, your equal in status—a most auspicious match indeed.”

Once the so-called Peach Blossom Immortal had finished his pronouncement, a chorus rose from the crowd. “Congratulations, young lady! You've found your beloved.” “Judging from what he says, your match must be someone with distinguished status. Your life ahead is sure to be filled with endless happiness.”

It was hard to tell if their words were well-intentioned or meant otherwise, but they all joined in the commotion. Yet Luoshui did not feel pleased—instead, she was somewhat annoyed. The one the old man referred to was clearly Han Ziyu, was he not? That sort of person was not even a shadow of Qin Mu—not a hundredth, not a ten-thousandth of his worth. How could he possibly be her destined one?

Standing nearby, Qin Mu could not suppress a laugh upon hearing all this. At the sound of his laughter, the once-boisterous crowd fell silent, every gaze converging on him with a peculiar look. The old man frowned deeply. “What is it, young man? You don’t seem convinced.”

“I, the Peach Blossom Immortal, have never misread a single romance—so many couples have found happiness through my guidance, envied by all. If this young lady were not fated to cross my path, I wouldn’t bother to matchmake for just anyone who asked.”

His words were immediately echoed by many who came to his defense. “Exactly! The Peach Blossom Immortal is famous throughout several provinces. It’s a rare fortune to have him set up here in Jiangcheng this year. Who are you, a mere youth, to question him?”

Qin Mu simply waved his hand. “No, I just find your divination rather interesting.”

“If you truly know so much, then you should recognize your own place. You and this young lady are not suited at all—leave her be, and don’t waste her precious youth,” the old man said, pointing at Qin Mu.

Qin Mu paid him no mind, only smiling as he replied, “I imagine that in just a moment, the one you call her destined match will appear, holding a bouquet of flowers, won’t he?”

The old man’s expression changed noticeably at these words.

How did he know?

A while later, a stir arose at the far end of the flower market—especially among the girls, who shrieked in excitement. The crowd parted, and a strikingly handsome man in a white suit walked toward them, a bouquet of fresh flowers cradled in his arms, his stride measured and poised. “Luoshui, I didn’t expect to see you here at the flower market. It seems we truly share a special connection as fellow disciples.”

The newcomer was indeed Han Ziyu. His face wore a warm smile as he approached Luoshui. But she instinctively leaned into Qin Mu’s arms, as if warding off the advances of a stranger.

Han Ziyu’s smile faltered at the sight. He had hesitated for a long time after hearing Qin Mu’s pointed remark about him. To appear or not to appear—either choice was awkward. Yet, after all the trouble he’d gone to arrange this scene, leaving now would be a waste. So, bracing himself, he stepped forward with the bouquet.

“You’re bolder than I imagined,” Qin Mu said with a smile, though his eyes carried a weight and a hint of menace. Luoshui might not know, but he did—he knew precisely who had masterminded last night’s plot. Now, all that remained was for the military to apply pressure and extract a confession from Sister Tao’s lips.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Han Ziyu replied with a practiced, professional smile.

“Isn’t that Han Ziyu?” someone in the crowd exclaimed.

“Heavens, it really is my beloved Han Ziyu in the flesh!”

“Didn’t the Peach Blossom Immortal just say the destined lover was nearby, and his surname was Han? Could it be Han Ziyu himself?”

“You’re a lucky girl!” others chimed in, recognizing him at once.

Han Ziyu, undisturbed by the crowd, gently presented the bouquet to Luoshui. “Since we are at the flower market, let me give you this cluster of white magnolias, dear junior. Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman.”

“Thank you, senior brother, but I must decline,” Luoshui replied.

The gesture might have appeared simple, but the choice of white magnolias was loaded with meaning—for the flower’s language is an expression of love. If she accepted them, she would be accepting Han Ziyu’s confession. Such calculation could hardly be called shallow.

“Don’t be so quick to refuse,” Han Ziyu said, as if anticipating her response. He clapped his hands toward a particular direction.

A wave of excitement rippled through the market as everyone turned to look. One after another, flower carts prepared in advance rolled forward, piled high with white magnolias. Thousands upon thousands formed a massive white heart at the center of the market—a grand confession scene fit for the son of a wealthy family.

“My heavens!” gasped the crowd, and several girls, unable to resist the spectacle, covered their faces and shrieked. Those knowledgeable about flowers couldn’t help but comment, “These white magnolias are truly the finest—likely cultivated in the top hundred flower nurseries across Southeast Asia. Each one must cost thousands!”

Han Ziyu, ever the gentleman, extended his hand to Luoshui. “This is a floral feast I prepared especially for you.”

“Junior sister, each of these magnolias was chosen with care. Do you like them?”

Any other girl would have been moved to tears by such a scene. The crowd began to egg Luoshui on.

“Say yes! Say yes!”

“Quick, say yes!”