Returning to the Jishui Courtyard, Lian Yue, who had held back her words all the way, finally couldn’t resist speaking.
“Miss, the Seventh Prince truly is a good person. As the rumors say, he is of unparalleled beauty, unmatched by almost any man in the world. It’s said that even the Third Prince pales in comparison to him. If only the Seventh Prince weren’t unable to cultivate…”
At this point, Lian Yue cautiously glanced at Wen Qiao, worried that she might take offense.
These past days, Lian Yue had noticed the change in the Wen family’s attitude toward the Jishui Courtyard. Of course, someone wholeheartedly pursuing the Dao would not care about a marriage arrangement or be troubled by such worldly matters. Yet most people in the world were ordinary, with poor talent for cultivation, indulging in pleasure and focusing more on immediate benefits.
They understood that with this marriage, Wen Qiao would not lack resources for cultivation, nor would anyone dare to bully her, for that would be an affront to the Ning family. But apart from this, what else was there? Anyone with a bit of ambition would not envy such a match. Who would want to spend a few short decades with a mere mortal who couldn’t cultivate?
Wen Qiao glanced at her and said, “The Seventh Prince is quite good.”
Lian Yue let out a breath of relief and smiled, saying, “I thought so too after seeing him earlier. By the way, he even gave you a gift, Miss. What is it?”
Holding the white jade box in her arms, Wen Qiao entered her room, sat on the couch by the window, and opened the box.
Curious, Lian Yue peeked inside and was instantly disappointed. “What’s this? It looks like a plant seed.”
“A seventh-grade spiritual herb seed,” Wen Qiao replied, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly, her mood evidently very good.
Lian Yue scratched her head, not understanding why her mistress was so happy over a single seed. If it were a fully grown seventh-grade spiritual herb, that would be worth celebrating. The Seventh Prince was truly odd—giving her mistress a mere seed. Could it be that he had heard the rumors and thought her mistress really liked planting grass?
Thinking of this, Lian Yue couldn’t help but glance at the pots of spiritual plants on the windowsill. She saw that they were still lush and verdant, brimming with vitality. Who would believe they weren’t weeds?
If it weren’t for her mistress tending to them personally, Lian Yue would have thought her mistress had an odd habit of growing weeds.
Wen Qiao, reluctant to part with the seed, played with it for a while before instructing, “Find me a flowerpot.”
Lian Yue quickly responded, “Understood!” and went off to fetch a pot.
After bringing it back, Lian Yue thought for a moment and asked, “Miss, should we go to the Spiritual Herb Garden to get some spiritual soil?”
Wen Qiao shook her head. “No need.”
She then instructed Lian Yue to move the five pots of spiritual plants from the windowsill to the ground outside the courtyard wall. Their roots were nearly breaking through the pots, so she decided to transplant them directly into the soil at the foot of the wall to let them grow freely.
While working, Lian Yue glanced around the courtyard and muttered, “Recently, the plants in our courtyard have been growing so well. Even those in Changchun Garden can’t compare. Could it be that the feng shui of Jishui Courtyard has improved?”
Wen Qiao, sitting nearby and filling the flowerpot with soil, heard this and glanced at the courtyard.
To ordinary people, feng shui was an elusive and mysterious concept. However, to cultivators, it was akin to common knowledge. What was called feng shui was merely linked to the Five Elements, the gathering of Heaven and Earth’s yuan spiritual energy. Whether it gathered spiritual energy or accumulated malevolent energy depended on the distribution of the Five Elements.
The location of Jishui Courtyard was very remote, neither good nor bad, with naturally sparse yuan spiritual energy.
It was simply that every day, when she used the sparse yuan spiritual energy within her body to nurture the spiritual plants, a small portion would inevitably spill out. The mundane plants in the courtyard absorbed this, growing more vigorously. Although the plants returned a bit of their essence to her, they remained in an overflowing state.
After burying the seventh-grade spiritual herb seed in the soil, Wen Qiao watered it lightly and placed the pot back on the windowsill.
Lian Yue, having finished transplanting the spiritual plants, saw Wen Qiao sitting by the window staring at the flowerpot. She shook her head, wondering what was so interesting about it.
That night, Wen Qiao opened the window.
Once again, it was a full moon. In the pitch-black night sky, the bright moon hung high, its silvery light pouring down like water.
Wen Qiao sat cross-legged, bathing in the moonlight. She cultivated until midnight, accumulating a small amount of yuan spiritual energy in her body. Then, carefully and sparingly, she channeled this precious energy into the seed in the flowerpot.
Her meridians were naturally more delicate and fragile than those of other cultivators. She could only absorb a limited amount of yuan spiritual energy at a time. If she exceeded this limit, her meridians would swell painfully, and in severe cases, they could rupture and snap entirely. Over the years, she had discovered her threshold—so long as she didn’t surpass it, her meridians, though swollen and painful, would not rupture and bleed.
Because of this, her ability to absorb yuan spiritual energy was minimal, and her cultivation progress stagnated. She had remained stuck at the mid-stage of the Yuan Entry Realm, practically a useless cultivator.
Even when her internal yuan spiritual energy was entirely depleted, the seed in the flowerpot showed no sign of life.
Wen Qiao wasn’t surprised. This seed possessed extraordinary vitality, requiring an immense amount of yuan spiritual energy to germinate and sprout. Given her current physical condition, she was unable to provide it with enough energy to grow roots and sprout.
Without the seed taking root and sprouting, it could not return any plant essence to her. This one-sided output without any input left Wen Qiao’s already frail body under considerable strain.
Wiping away her cold sweat, Wen Qiao forced herself to continue meditating until her yuan spiritual energy was replenished. By then, dawn was breaking.
Exhausted, Wen Qiao changed her clothes and collapsed onto the bed, falling into a deep sleep almost immediately.
Before falling asleep, Wen Qiao thought to herself that next time, she shouldn’t focus solely on this seed. She would also need to nurture other plants to absorb some of their plant essence to maintain her health.
It felt like she had only just fallen asleep when Lian Yue woke her up.
“What is it?” she asked hoarsely, her face slightly pale, her voice weak and feeble.
Lian Yue looked at her with concern, thinking she had fallen ill again. Feeling uneasy, Lian Yue whispered, “Someone from the imperial palace is here. They want to discuss the wedding date between you and the Seventh Prince. The family head has asked for you.”
“Oh,” Wen Qiao responded softly. Her long, thick eyelashes trembled slightly as she opened her clear, limpid eyes and extended a hand toward the maid by her bed. “Help me dress.”
Lian Yue helped her up, fetched clean clothes from nearby, and assisted her in getting dressed.
Once dressed, Wen Qiao drank a cup of warm tea, which revived her somewhat. Only then did she head to the main hall.
—
In the flower hall, Wen Zhongqing and his wife were sitting with representatives from the Ning family of the imperial clan, discussing the marriage arrangement between their two families.
This time, the Ning family had sent an elder of the Ning clan to negotiate the marriage—a cultivator with a Yuan Spirit Realm cultivation level. This elder usually stayed in the Ning clan’s ancestral land to cultivate in seclusion and rarely appeared in public.
Wen Zhongqing had initially assumed that even if the Ning family valued this marriage, it would merely be because Emperor Chenghao cared about it. At most, they would send a Ning clan elder of the same generation as Emperor Chenghao. He hadn’t expected them to send an elder from the Yuan Spirit Realm, someone who guarded the Ning ancestral land.
With his mere Yuan Bright Realm cultivation, Wen Zhongqing found himself several levels inferior in the presence of a Yuan Spirit Realm elder and was filled with awe and trepidation.
For a moment, Wen Zhongqing couldn’t discern the Ning family’s true attitude toward this marriage.
By the time Wen Qiao arrived, the two families had already set the wedding date and were only waiting to consult the people involved.
“Ah Zhuo, you’re here,” Wen Zhongqing called out in a somewhat unfamiliar tone, his gaze on her now carrying a certain gravity.
The niece, who had once been like a transparent figure in the family, had unexpectedly garnered such significant attention from the Ning family. If he didn’t know that Wen Qiao was a pitiable girl unlikely to live past twenty, he might have suspected the Ning family of harboring some ulterior motives.
The second wife, on the other hand, was warm and enthusiastic. When Wen Qiao approached, she took her hand and introduced her to the Ning family’s representatives, saying, “This is the third young lady of our Wen family, Wen Qiao. Ah Zhuo, this is Senior Ning Huayuan from the Ning clan.”
Wen Qiao couldn’t gauge Ning Huayuan’s cultivation level, but from the restrained pressure and demeanor he exuded, as well as the reactions of Wen Zhongqing and his wife, it was clear that his cultivation was extraordinarily high—high enough that even Wen Zhongqing, the Wen family patriarch, had to treat him with deference.
Wen Qiao stepped forward and respectfully performed a salute.
Ning Huayuan was a handsome, middle-aged man with a fine beard. His features were sharp and clear, his eyes bright and piercing, exuding an impressive presence. His demeanor, however, was relatively amiable as he spoke warmly, “Third miss Wen, there’s no need for such formalities. I’ve come today to discuss the wedding date between Ning Yuzhou and yourself with your Wen family.”
Wen Qiao responded softly with a hum, sitting obediently to the side to listen. Her face showed little of the shyness typical of a young woman.
Ning Huayuan scrutinized Wen Qiao. Her beauty was breathtaking, her grace like the morning dew and moonlight—a truly rare and exceptional beauty. However, her frame was as fragile as a willow, her breath weak, and her cultivation barely at the mid-stage of the Yuan Entry Realm. In the eyes of someone with his level of cultivation, she was hardly worth mentioning.
In past years, Wen Boqing and his wife were figures of extraordinary talent and brilliance. Who could have imagined that their only daughter would turn out to be a sickly individual, completely cut off from the path of cultivation?
What a pity…
Ning Huayuan sighed inwardly at the misfortune but did not let it show on his face. Instead, he turned to Wen Qiao and asked, “The wedding date has been set for the third day of next month. Does that work for Third miss Wen?”
The cultivation world differed greatly from the secular world, where the strong were revered, and strict adherence to etiquette was uncommon. Most of the time, people cared little for formalities. Marriages were typically based on mutual consent or undertaken for the benefit of cultivation. Although the marriage between Wen Qiao and the Seventh Prince had nothing to do with cultivation, as part of the cultivation world, they were not overly concerned with elaborate rituals. Therefore, the opinion of the individuals involved was still sought.
Wen Qiao calmly replied, “This junior has no objections.”
Hearing this, both Ning Huayuan and Wen Zhongqing, along with his wife, broke into smiles, clearly pleased.
Wen Qiao continued to sit quietly, listening to their discussion about the wedding preparations, occasionally covering her mouth to cough softly.
When he heard her cough, Ning Huayuan looked over and said, “Third miss Wen, if you’re feeling unwell, don’t push yourself.”
Wen Zhongqing and his wife were also immediately concerned.
This niece of theirs had always been frail and sickly, with the likelihood of not living past twenty. They were already surprised she had survived to her coming-of-age ceremony. Now that she was involved in this marriage with the imperial Ning family, they sincerely hoped she wouldn’t die before the wedding, as that would surely bring disgrace upon the Ning family.
Wen Qiao swallowed the itch in her throat and said softly, “Thank you for your concern, Senior Ning. I will take care of myself.”
During the subsequent discussions between Ning Huayuan and the Wen couple, whenever they sought Wen Qiao’s opinion, she obediently stated that she had no objections and would defer to the elders’ arrangements.
Once the details of the wedding were finalized, Ning Huayuan took his leave.
Wen Zhongqing and his wife accompanied Wen Qiao in seeing him out.
After Ning Huayuan departed, Wen Zhongqing and his wife turned to look at Wen Qiao, who was quietly waiting nearby. They seemed to want to say something but realized there was nothing much to say. Instead, they simply reminded her to take good care of herself before sending her back to the Jishui Courtyard.
Back at the Jishui Courtyard, under Lian Yue’s care, Wen Qiao swallowed a Haichun Pilll and lay down on her bed. She secretly absorbed some of the plant essence from the spiritual plants growing at the corner of the courtyard, and her complexion finally improved.
All that was left now was to wait for the wedding.