The day after visiting the antique street was a Sunday. Yan and Zhu Jue had no particular plans for the day, so she slept in and didn’t crawl out of bed until ten o’clock.
"Anyone up yet?" she called out from her bed, but no one answered.
"Huh?" Yan pulled open her bed curtain and scanned the room. Gu Jiasui was away for the weekend, Yi Zhi was gone, Ding Ling was clearly absent, and even Chu Bingbing, who was usually a late sleeper, was nowhere to be seen.
The dormitory was empty except for her—an extremely rare occurrence.
She pulled her phone from under her pillow and checked the group chat, pinching her chin thoughtfully. Ding Ling had mentioned returning to the bureau to handle last night’s incident, while Chu Bingbing and Yi Zhi had simply said they had something to attend to outside.
After sending Zhu Jue a "good morning" sticker, Yan climbed out of bed to freshen up.
Stretching lazily and humming a tune, she opened the door and the balcony windows to let in fresh air.
Her phone was flooded with unread notifications from subscribed public accounts. She tapped on **[Bin City Local Guide]** and skimmed the latest post:
*"Today is the Double Ninth Festival—perfect for climbing high, gazing afar, and admiring chrysanthemums! The Bin City World Expo Garden Chrysanthemum Show is in full bloom!"*
Wait, today was the Double Ninth Festival?
Yan scratched her head and switched to the lunar calendar app. Since the festival wasn’t a public holiday, she rarely paid attention to it, focusing only on the day of the week.
She clicked into the article. Hmm, Bin City did have a World Expo Garden, and the chrysanthemum exhibition was in season right now. There were expansive free zones, as well as a paid section for rare varieties—even some kind of chrysanthemum competition?
After a moment’s thought, she forwarded the link to Zhu Jue.
**[Yan]:** Jue, let’s go check this out today! It’s ending soon.
She checked the weather forecast. For a place bursting with vibrant flowers, solid-colored outfits would work best.
Yan changed into a white maxi dress with flared sleeves and a tied detail at the collarbone. Since they’d be eating at the canteen later, where smells tended to linger, she grabbed two small bread rolls from the dorm’s shared table to nibble on.
From Monday to Friday, Yi Zhi usually bought breakfast for the whole dorm, but on weekends, with everyone sleeping in and people missing, it wasn’t necessary.
After finishing the bread, rinsing her mouth, and applying sunscreen and a touch of powder, Yan grabbed her bag and headed out, looking effortlessly chic. Zhu Jue was already waiting downstairs.
The Bin City World Expo Garden was enormous, located quite a distance from the city center, but thankfully, a single subway line led straight to the entrance.
Yan and Zhu Jue had set off late, so by the time they arrived, it was already noon.
The bread rolls had long been devoured on the way, and Yan’s stomach growled loudly. As soon as they entered the garden, they scouted the food stalls outside for something tasty.
Yan eyed the "grilled squid skewers" warily. More than worrying about hygiene, she was concerned about staining her dress—it would be a pain to wash.
Noticing her hesitation, Zhu Jue immediately stepped into the queue, also ordering crispy fried baby potatoes and deep-fried pork tenderloin from the neighboring stall.
Soon, Zhu Jue returned with the squid skewers. Without plates or chopsticks, they had to eat with their hands. The potatoes were ready shortly after.
Zhu Jue wrapped the wooden skewers in napkins before handing them to Yan, then pulled out two self-styled napkin bibs from his waist pouch, slipping one over each of their heads.
A wooden table stood nearby, packed with the lunchtime crowd. Yan and Zhu Jue ended up sharing it with another couple.
The couple, spotting the pig-printed bibs, struggled to stifle their laughter, their hands trembling as they ate their fried pork.
Zhu Jue fetched the tenderloin, asked the vendor for an extra plastic bag, and carefully slid the squid off the skewers with chopsticks, cutting it into bite-sized pieces before placing it in front of Yan.
Since the other couple sat side by side, the four of them naturally faced each other. Yan and Zhu Jue, bibs firmly in place, focused on their food.
"It’s pretty good," Yan mumbled through a mouthful of squid. The sauce was heavy, but the seafood tasted fresh.
The baby potatoes were fried to a crisp, dusted with chili flakes. Yan dared only a light dip before taking a bite. Her eyes crinkled with delight—delicious!
A handsome guy and a beautiful girl were already eye-catching enough, but paired with their bibs, passersby couldn’t help stealing glances at the duo.
"Look at those two, haha! Wearing bibs at their age," an elderly woman remarked to her husband.
"Ah, clever kids," he chuckled.
One man even nudged his wife, grinning. "Hey, maybe I should get us some too. No more stains—less laundry for me."
"Only if you wear one with me," she shot back.
"Me? A grown man? Not happening."
Yan overheard the comments but didn’t mind—neither did Zhu Jue.
At first, wearing bibs in public had felt awkward, but now it was second nature.
A few stares and whispers didn’t matter as long as her clothes stayed sauce-free.
They continued eating calmly. The fried pork tenderloin was fantastic—freshly cooked, crispy yet tender, and addictive with the chili powder.
Though the spice level was mild, Yan’s nose glistened with sweat. She fanned herself. "Whew, it’s getting hot." Zhu Jue’s forehead was damp too, so Yan dabbed it gently with a tissue.
Just as they were finishing lunch, a sudden surge of people hurried past.
"Hurry up, let’s go!"
"It’s about to start—don’t be late!"
"What’s going on?" Yan craned her neck.
"The chrysanthemum exhibition this afternoon," the couple across from them explained. "Enthusiasts from Bin City and beyond are bringing their prized blooms for a competition. Rare varieties from all over the country."
Yan gasped. "Oh! I saw that in the article—the ticketed area."
She had already bought two tickets (limited availability, 30 yuan per person, including voting rights). Initially unhurried, the sight of the rushing crowd spurred them into action.
Following the flow, they passed through outer gardens bursting with chrysanthemums of every hue—rainbow daisies, English marigolds, giant oxeyes, pot marigolds…
Autumn’s palette was dazzling, the vivid blooms lifting spirits instantly.
Topiaries and floral arrangements transformed the space into a sea of blossoms. Visitors snapped photos everywhere, joined by elderly photographers zealously capturing close-ups.
With time tight, Yan and Zhu Jue quickened their pace and made it inside the ticketed area just as the exhibition began.
The crowd thinned noticeably here, and the chrysanthemum displays were arranged entirely differently.
To their surprise, free chrysanthemum wine was being offered.
Yan had never tried it before. Curious, she tugged Zhu Jue toward the stall. The wine was served in small disposable cups or shallow plastic bowls—just enough for a sip.
**Chongyang Festival Respect for the Elderly, Prayers for Longevity**
Yan asked the staff to pour just a tiny bit of chrysanthemum wine.
"Just a little—we'll share and taste it together," she said.
Though the alcohol content was likely low, Yan had little tolerance for liquor. Even the occasional fruit wine made her dizzy, so it was best to take only a sip.
The chrysanthemum wine wasn’t overpowering. After one taste, Yan handed the plastic cup to Zhu Jue.
"Mmm, it has a chrysanthemum flavor—slightly sweet, slightly bitter." The faint aroma of alcohol lingered at the tip of her nose, and Yan found it better than she’d expected.
Back in high school, she and Zhu Jue had drunk chrysanthemum tea blends for eye health, which had a much stronger floral bitterness.
After finishing the wine, the two continued further into the exhibition. Unlike the vast fields of chrysanthemums in the outer gardens, this area featured potted arrangements, each spaced apart with dedicated plaques listing their names and identification numbers.
**"Green Cloud—this one is absolutely stunning."**
Amid the vibrant array of chrysanthemums, Yan’s eyes immediately landed on the variety called "Green Cloud."
Its stems were green, its blossoms a soft gradient of pale jade. The fully bloomed petals stretched outward like puffy clouds, delicate tendrils cascading elegantly—utterly ethereal, living up to its name.
Beside it stood the dazzling golden "Yellow Rock Elder," radiant in hue.
Noticing a professional instructor leading a tour group, Yan and Zhu Jue quickly sidled over to eavesdrop.
They soon learned that this chrysanthemum exhibition included a "King of Chrysanthemums" competition. While ticket-holding visitors had voting rights, the real authority lay with professional cultivators.
The admission fee also served to filter out unruly visitors—after all, prized hybrids painstakingly bred by masters could easily fall victim to careless hands or mischievous children.
"Look over there—Professor Sun from Tangcheng cultivated a new variety."
"Master Ye from Capital Water Park also brought a few pots."
Yan and Zhu Jue absorbed the knowledge eagerly. Names like "Long Wind Over Miles," "Sunlit Ripples," and "Ink King" perfectly matched their blooms—some celestial, some refined, others exuding regal grandeur.
The pair continued tailing the tour until the group noticed but didn’t mind. In fact, the instructor even made space for them.
"Young folks eager to learn? No problem, join us!"
From covert listeners, they became quasi-group members. Their cluelessness delighted the instructor, who kept quizzing Yan.
"Did I explain clearly?"
"This one’s called 'Ten-Mile Beaded Curtain.' You youngsters might recognize it—that wildly popular palace drama featured it as Consort Shen’s favorite. A single stem’s worth ten thousand coins!"
Yan cycled through expressions of dawning comprehension, earnest nodding, and bewildered blinking, fueling the instructor’s satisfaction.
As she listened, her gaze drifted to the nearby "Coiled Dragon at Dawn," its white-and-green hues and threadlike petals inexplicably reminding her of mung bean sprouts—*Stop daydreaming!*
Mid-explanation, staff hurried over, locating the instructor in the crowd.
"Professor Xu! Professor Xu! Professor Yuan needs you—a student just brought two new cultivars!"
*New varieties? Two?!* Yan and Zhu Jue’s ears perked up.
Only then did they realize their guide was a professor from Southern Agricultural University.
Professor Xu immediately set off with his students. Yan and Zhu Jue blended into the group, seizing the chance to tag along.
Spotting them lurking, Professor Xu chuckled. "You two—since you’re here, come see for yourselves. Which university are you from?"
"Bin University? *No way!*" A grad student gasped.
"Both from Bin U? What’re you studying?" Professor Xu’s gaze warmed further.
Their destination was the exhibition’s restricted inner area. As they advanced, the crowd thinned to experts and renowned enthusiasts.
"Professor Xu! Hurry! Professor Yuan’s student has two groundbreaking hybrids!"
The group surged forward, but before Yan saw the flowers, a familiar golden halo caught her eye.
**[Apocalypse Ability User]**
Yan: *!!!*
*Holy—Yi Zhi is here?!*
Wait—*new chrysanthemums?* Could these be the pots he’d been growing on his balcony after buying them from the flower market?
Her face twisted oddly. She mouthed to Zhu Jue, and the two exchanged baffled glances.
*So these "new breeds"... were cultivated with his powers?*
On the display stand sat two pots of chrysanthemums resembling common varieties yet distinct in color and form.
More accurately, both specimens were in flawless condition, compelling viewers to lean in for closer admiration.
The first was dazzling—a radiant interplay of gold and crimson that dominated the room.
Its petals bloomed in deep, ungraded scarlet, each tip edged in fine gold like masterful brushstrokes. The regal contrast evoked one word: *majestic.*
Unlike the classic "Flame of the Rainbow," its shape wasn’t radial but curled at the center, splaying outward like unfurling wings—a divine avian mid-flight.
**"Phoenix Soaring? No—this merges the Rainbow Flame and Phoenix breeds!"** An elder gasped.
"What’s it called?"
The staffer sheepishly revealed a hastily scrawled sign bearing four infamous characters:
**[Tomato and Eggs]**
Silence.
"Who named this?! Fitting though," a student snorted nearby.
A glare from Professor Xu shut him up.
"These belong to Professor Yuan’s student. The names are temporary," the staffer explained.
The professor relaxed. "Good. I’d hate to think Old Yuan let them get this unserious."
Attention shifted to the second pot. If "Tomato and Eggs" embodied fiery grandeur, this one was the epitome of celestial grace.
The pale pink petals accentuated with hints of soft yellow created a dreamy, ethereal color palette, while the radial bloom shape made the chrysanthemum resemble a dancing fairy—utterly breathtaking.
At this moment, the crowd gazed almost soundlessly yet greedily at the two newly cultivated chrysanthemums, as if even the slightest noise might disturb their beauty.
“This is too dreamlike. How on earth were these bred?” someone couldn’t help but voice their wonder aloud.
“Ahem, Old Xu, what do you think? Both of these were cultivated by my student.”
Just then, a short-haired female professor appeared. Petite in stature, she stood beside the 1.8-meter-tall Yi Zhi, her expression carefully restrained—yet her words betrayed an unmistakable pride.
“Here, this is Xiao Yi, my student.”
“This girl, honestly—she bred a few pots of chrysanthemums and kept them hidden in her dorm. Only recently did she move them to the college. If I hadn’t found out, who knows how long she would’ve kept them under wraps?”
Professor Yuan’s lips curled into a smirk, torn between showing off to everyone and gripping Yi Zhi’s hand protectively, as if afraid someone might snatch her away.
In that instant, all eyes turned to the striking young woman beside Professor Yuan.
Youthful, spirited, and robust—she looked like someone who could handle farm work with ease.
“A tall, handsome older sister—she doesn’t look like someone studying agriculture, but she seems like she’d be great at it,” Yan overheard a bystander murmur.
Surrounded by Professor Xu’s entourage, Yan and Zhu Jue lingered within the crowd, unsure whether Yi Zhi should notice them.
Meanwhile, Yi Zhi remained by Professor Yuan’s side, encircled by chrysanthemum enthusiasts.
“Old Yuan, is this your new student this year? What a promising seedling,” Professor Xu remarked, his gaze brimming with admiration.
“Did you work with chrysanthemums for your undergraduate thesis too?”
Being the center of attention, Yi Zhi wished she could shrink into the ground on the spot. How had things escalated to this point?
Two weekends ago, while her roommates explored a comic convention, Yi Zhi had wandered off to a nearby flower market. As a wood-attribute ability user, she was naturally drawn to lush greenery—it soothed her.
At the market, she’d stumbled upon a batch of discounted, “defective” chrysanthemums—unwanted due to their imperfections. She bought a few pots for a steal and brought them back to her dorm.
Her initial goal was simply to keep them alive. At that price, a little infusion of her wood-attribute spiritual energy was all it took to revive them.
But while rushing to fulfill orders for her space-grown fruits, she’d absentmindedly watered the chrysanthemums with a scoop of spatial spring water—the same water she used to accelerate the growth of strawberries.
After all, based on her tests, the spatial spring water merely enhanced the quality of fruits and vegetables. She figured it might prolong the flowers’ blooming period.
What Yi Zhi never expected was that under the combined influence of her wood-attribute abilities and the spatial spring water, the chrysanthemums didn’t just survive—they thrived, growing more and more exquisite.
It wasn’t just a slight improvement; it was a full-blown “evolution.”
Of course, after repeated self-assessment, Yi Zhi confirmed that the chrysanthemums had only become more beautiful—they hadn’t mutated or developed any aggressive traits.
Fearing her roommates might catch on, Yi Zhi quickly moved the two most visibly transformed pots from the dorm balcony to the college, leaving the others behind.
The agricultural college had designated spaces for student cultivation projects. Yi Zhi knew of a succulent fanatic in the neighboring dorm who, within two months of the semester, had amassed over a hundred pots—prompting dorm disputes and a subsequent relocation to a rented college plot.
The memory made Yi Zhi shudder. While she didn’t have as many plants as the succulent enthusiast, her dorm was still cluttered. Thankfully, the sixth bed was unoccupied, and her roommates were unusually tolerant.
That Friday afternoon, Yi Zhi rented a small plot at the college, planning to gradually move her potted plants there.
But on Saturday night, just as she was about to sleep, her WeChat buzzed with a message from her advisor.
Turns out, the chrysanthemums she’d relocated to the college plot had been discovered by a professor—who’d immediately launched a search for their owner.
Thus, Yi Zhi—who’d only added Professor Yuan on WeChat the night before—was summoned the next morning, whisked away alongside her flowers under the collective escort of multiple professors to the horticultural expo.
Bombarded with questions, Yi Zhi played dumb.
How could she explain that these were new varieties cultivated with spatial spring water and wood-attribute abilities? Who’d believe that?
“Huh? I don’t know, I just grew them like this. They were originally in my dorm.”
“I’m only a freshman, you know.”
Her muddled responses might not have convinced the professors, but she convinced herself.
Now, Yi Zhi once again found herself under the same intense scrutiny she’d faced at the Jade Carving Pavilion.
At least no one was taking photos or videos of her—everyone was too busy capturing the chrysanthemums.
Faced with Professor Xu’s inquiry, Yi Zhi awkwardly scratched her head.
“Um… I’m just a freshman. I took the college entrance exam this year.”
“What?”
“No way! Seriously?”
Her words sent shockwaves through the crowd—chrysanthemum enthusiasts, professors, and students alike were stunned.
“You’re not a grad student? Or a PhD?”
“So young, yet so skilled!”
“If Professor Yuan hadn’t said so, I wouldn’t have believed it. Does your family cultivate chrysanthemums?”
“A prodigy! Bin University’s College of Agriculture—Old Yuan’s legacy has found its successor.”
“Bin U wouldn’t parade a newly bred variety just to hype up a student. A breakthrough this significant—what professor would sacrifice their life’s work for this?”
Yan watched as Professor Xu eagerly seized Yi Zhi’s arm.
“Young lady, given your talent at such a young age—since you’re only a freshman, there’s no rush. But if you plan to continue breeding, Southern Agricultural University has a national-level hybrid cultivation institute.”
Professor Yuan let out a cold chuckle. “Old Xu, that’s my student you’re poaching. Not very sportsmanlike, is it?”
“Trying to snatch her right under my nose?”
Professor Xu bristled. “She’s still an undergrad! Shouldn’t grad students explore their options and find the best fit?”
To Professor Xu, Yi Zhi was now a priceless jade cabbage—one he desperately wanted to bundle up and take home.
“What name did Yi Zhi prepare for the other chrysanthemum? Please don’t tell me it’s another food reference.”
Yi Zhi answered sheepishly, “No… ‘Celestial Fairy.’”
When Professor Yuan had asked her to name the flowers earlier, Yi Zhi had been at a loss. Staring at the colors, she’d blurted out “Tomato and Eggs”—only for it to be printed and displayed as the official name!
Amid the crowd, Yan and Zhu Jue silently observed as Yi Zhi and her chrysanthemums were swarmed, the atmosphere electric with excitement.
Those gathered around the flowers were hushed in reverence, while those around Yi Zhi clamored noisily, phones outstretched to scan her QR code for future consultations.
“‘Tomato and Eggs’ and ‘Celestial Fairy’—this year’s Chrysanthemum King is decided!”
“I vote for ‘Tomato and Eggs’! It’s absolutely stunning!”
“The ‘Celestial Fairy’ is absolutely divine! So fresh and elegant—truly the essence of chrysanthemums!”
“Even though these two students joined last minute, if these two pots don’t win ‘Chrysanthemum King,’ none of us here will accept the results!”
“Exactly. With ‘Tomato and Eggs’ and ‘Celestial Fairy’ in the running, there’s no other choice for Chrysanthemum King.”
The crowd was already debating which of the two should get their votes.
The live voting for Chrysanthemum King was in full swing.
Yan murmured, “Jue Jue, this feels so familiar…”
Zhu Jue nodded, the two of them standing at a distance, soaking in the lively atmosphere.
The crowd was buzzing with excitement over Yi Zhi’s chrysanthemums—admiring, envious, and full of endless questions.
Just as Yan and Zhu Jue were about to slip away unnoticed, Professor Xu suddenly remembered something and called out,
“Hey, where are those two students who joined us last minute? They’re from Bin University too—they should vote!”
Caught mid-escape, they were pulled back. “Why are you leaving? You haven’t voted yet,” said the girl holding onto Yan.
Forced to turn around, Yan glanced up and locked eyes with Yi Zhi, her heart sighing inwardly.
Yan offered a faint smile, while Zhu Jue gave a polite nod. “What a coincidence,” he said.
Yi Zhi: !!!
*When did they get here? Why are you two here again? Weren’t you still asleep in the dorm when I left?*
“You know each other?” a nearby girl asked.
“We’re roommates,” Yi Zhi replied.
“No way! What are the odds? Then you must’ve seen how these chrysanthemums were grown, right?” someone immediately pressed for details.
Yan tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Just… normal care, right? Isn’t it normal for agronomy students to know how to grow flowers?”
She hadn’t paid much attention, but the way Yi Zhi tended to plants didn’t seem any different from how ordinary people did it—just basic care.
Watering them, not even changing the soil… if anything, it seemed *less* meticulous than most.
The crowd: …
*Such understatement! That’s peak humblebragging!*
If every agronomy student could breed new varieties this effortlessly, our country would dominate global agriculture overnight.
Yi Zhi: !
*Yan’s covering for me.* No Bin University student could possibly be clueless about the effort and skill needed to cultivate a new plant variety.
Yan was playing dumb—just like her—to help hide her wood-element abilities.
A flicker of realization crossed Yi Zhi’s eyes. *So back when Yan joked about the fruit ‘cleansing her marrow’… she* was *testing me!*
