Chapter 7: The Creditor Comes Calling

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Divine Realm—Everlasting Waters—Hall of a Hundred Blossoms.

“Liuying, be gentle, it hurts! My whole body aches,” Little Huayan’s eyes brimmed with tears as she poured out her grievances about being beaten.

“This is outrageous! How could there be such a rude and overbearing Immortal Lord in Everlasting Waters? I, Fairy Liuying, will not let him go—I’ll drag him straight to the Abyss of No Return!”

Fairy Liuying was indignant on Huayan’s behalf, her tongue quick as ever, already plotting revenge for her friend.

“Liuying!” Little Huayan chided softly, half in jest.

“Here! I swiped this elixir from my master’s Spirit Treasure Pavilion. Take it, and the pain will vanish,” Fairy Liuying said, producing a pill from her sleeve and handing it to Little Huayan.

“Thank you, dear Liuying, you’re always so good to me.”

Little Huayan took the pill and ate it happily, as if it were a sweet candy, not bitter in the slightest.

“It’s just that you have no one to rely on. At least I have my master—no one in Everlasting Waters would dare bully me. But you, you’re always alone in the Hall of a Hundred Blossoms, constantly picked on by the other fairies.”

Hearing this, Little Huayan’s face fell, clouds turning to thunder.

It was true—not only was she bullied by the fairies of the Divine Realm, now she had even been kicked back here by someone. How could she swallow such a humiliation?

“But really, I can’t blame them. After all, I haven’t ascended in thirty thousand years—I’m still just a little flower spirit. Even those younger than me have become fairies. I’m already content they haven’t driven me out of the Hall of a Hundred Blossoms.”

Little Huayan smiled contentedly at Fairy Liuying.

“You’re so pure and kind, always thinking of others,” Fairy Liuying said, her expression fierce, still indignant.

“There, there! I still have you, don’t I? Always looking out for me,” Little Huayan said, hugging Fairy Liuying’s arm. Liuying was like an elder sister, always protecting her from being bullied by the other immortals.

Fairy Liuying pinched Little Huayan’s soft, chubby cheek with satisfaction and declared proudly, “I’m only afraid you’ll be tricked by someone. Besides, I, Fairy Liuying, am not like the others—fawning over the strong and trampling the weak.”

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After pinching Little Huayan’s tender cheek to her satisfaction, Fairy Liuying stood up, ready to leave.

“All right! I’ve delivered the elixir. My master still has some matters for me to attend to. Rest well—I’ll come visit you another day.”

“Mm!” Little Huayan smiled radiantly, blossoming with happiness.

Thus, her days of carefree rest drifted by serenely, as leisurely as clouds and cranes.

Desolate Ancient Wasteland.

“I have scoured every inch of this wasteland and still cannot find the Flower of Bones. Where could it possibly be?” Beiming Yanhua’s expression was calm, but his eyes gleamed coldly.

“Could it be that the Flower of Bones isn’t here in the wasteland, but… in Everlasting Waters?” Suddenly, a cold, dangerous light flashed in Beiming Yanhua’s eyes, and a wicked, bloodthirsty smile tugged at his lips.

“Shall I lead the demon army into the Divine Realm—Everlasting Waters—and retrieve the Flower of Bones for you, my lord?”

“No need. I will go myself.”

Beiming Yanhua suddenly recalled the little flower spirit he had recently kicked back to Everlasting Waters, and a cold laugh escaped his lips.

“As you wish,” Zhan Feng replied, dropping to one knee in unwavering loyalty.

Divine Realm—Everlasting Waters—Hall of a Hundred Blossoms.

The sky was clear for ten thousand miles, sunlight pouring down. In the Hall of a Hundred Blossoms, flowers and grasses thrived in profusion, butterflies flitting among the blooms.

Warm light drifted through the hall, scattering petals and filling the air with fragrance—a perfect paradise for peaceful retirement.

Beiming Yanhua hovered above Everlasting Waters, deep in thought, passing through the sea of blossoms without a single petal clinging to him.

His sharp gaze swept downward as he descended into the Hall of a Hundred Blossoms—a world of earthly desires and fleeting dust.

“You troublesome little flower spirit, you were hard to find,” he declared as, in a heartbeat, he appeared inside Little Huayan’s chambers.

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Little Huayan’s eyes went wide with shock as she bolted upright in bed, so startled that she tumbled off the edge.

“Ouch!” she cried, scrambling to her feet.

“What are you doing here?”

“I saved you, little flower spirit, and yet you don’t come out to greet me. Instead, you question why I am here?” Beiming Yanhua frowned, glaring at Little Huayan, who was sprawled on the floor, his face full of disdain.

Little Huayan’s adorable, conflicted expression twisted with frustration. She puffed out her cheeks, tugged at her sleeves, and forced a polite smile.

“Of course, you’re very welcome,” she said, though she had no choice—she had seen this Immortal Lord with her own eyes strangle the Four Great Fiends of the Ancient Wilds without mercy.

Swaying slightly as she rose, Little Huayan appeared in her flowing Blossom Dawn Immortal Gown, mermaid ribbons swirling about her arms in the breeze.

She wore a crown of flowers and jade, with a jeweled butterfly pendant behind her ear, and streamers of stardust flowers dangling beside her temples—altogether ethereal and otherworldly.

Beiming Yanhua observed her carefully—this was the same little flower spirit he’d encountered in the ancient forest, once disheveled and sharp-tongued, begging pitifully for her life.

Yet now, seeing her afresh, he thought, This little flower spirit is truly quite endearing.

All at once, a heart that had lain dead for thirty thousand years gave a faint stir in his chest.

Damn it, he thought, why did my heart suddenly ache? Was it the wound to my holy body dealt by Jiuxian Yue and Shunhua thirty thousand years ago, still not healed? But the spiritual energy atop Mount Myriad had clearly cured my grave injuries—why should it hurt now?

Lost in these musings, Beiming Yanhua wandered idly about the Hall of a Hundred Blossoms, his presence at odds with the gentle beauty of the hall.

Behind him, however, Little Huayan was anything but idle. Unwilling to give in, she clenched her small fists in frustration.

Why had this harbinger of disaster come here, to her Hall of a Hundred Blossoms, of all places?