“One-on-one, both pure”
“Divine Lord disguised as a monk vs. little flower demon experiencing the mortal world for the first time”
“A flower fresh out of the beginner’s village meets a top-tier seducer who has lived for who knows how many years”
“The heroine is a rather spoiled, mischievous little thing”
Everyone knew that the holy monk Qingxiao possessed boundless Buddhist wisdom and compassion for all living beings. The only exception was the spoiled little flower demon at his side, whom he indulged without limit.
The city is besieged by living corpses? She hides behind him and covers her eyes. “Hua, they’re so ugly. Make them go away!”
The powerful host a banquet? She tugs at his sleeve. “The pastries here aren’t as tasty as the ones you make. Let’s go home.”
The immortal sects debate the Dao? She lies across his lap and yawns. “They’re keeping me awake…”
Everyone glares at her, but the holy monk merely says, “She’s shy around strangers.”
Everyone: …Does she look shy around strangers to you?!
Fumo: “Hua, I broke the South Sea ice-jade cup in your collection.”
Hua: “Copy the scriptures a hundred times.”
Fumo: “…Oh.”
That night, she stared pensively at the new cup on the table, even more translucent and precious than the last, and the plate of her favorite osmanthus cakes beside it.
It was only when the immortal sects surrounded him and demanded that he hand over the demon flower that would bring calamity upon the world.
Hua stepped forward, his aura completely concealed, golden light soaring into the heavens.
He raised a hand toward the sky and asked calmly:
“This lord raises a flower. Must I report it to you all?”
In that moment, the Three Realms trembled, and gods and demons bowed their heads.
Meanwhile, nestled in his arms, Fumo could think only of one thing:
“Hua, when are you going to make that honey-brewed flower soup you promised me?”
“Tonight. I’ll make it for you as soon as we get home.”
