They pushed through the curtain of thick, hanging moss that veiled the grove like a funeral shroud.
The air shifted instantly.
The cloying sweetness intensified, almost sickening now, layered with the heavy rot of damp earth and something faintly metallic.
And there, at the heart of a murky clearing fed by a sluggish, black-watered stream... it bloomed.
The Seven-Ring Lotus.
Whole and vibrant, rooted deep into the mud as if it had always been there.
Lin Zhaoyue tilted her head, voice silk-smooth but laced with thorns.
"Didn't you say you dug a hole and hid it?"
Du Juan froze. Her thoughts scrambled.
"I... I'm sure I..." Her words trailed off, caught in the impossible sight.
She turned to Zhaoyue slowly, eyes wide.
"Do you think the beasts... could be smart enough to plant rare herbs?"
The silence that followed felt colder than the swampwater at her ankles.
Lin Zhaoyue's head tilted slowly, like a serpent considering prey.
