Wooden wheels ground over the smooth bluestone road. No matter how carefully the driver managed the speed, the carriage still emitted an overburdened *creak-creak* sound. Because it was transporting goods, the carriage had no roof, but the sides were draped in black cloth to hide the contents. Only a single, delicate flower bud could be seen timidly peeking its head out, not yet in bloom.
A passerby caught a glimpse in surprise, but in an instant, a guard following the carriage blocked the view with an umbrella.
A fine drizzle fell over the Heavenly Street, the Great Shang dynasty was in the heart of spring.
This was a carriage sent from the Huguo Temple. Following the personal instructions of Great Master Minkong, it carried a "Buddha Lotus" intended for the current Emperor. Its name was Bi Jiang Xue (Emerald Crimson Snow).
Anything gifted to the Emperor, even a "dead" object that couldn't speak, had to be cared for with extreme caution.
A guard stole a glance at the carriage, the Master’s instructions echoing in his mind:
"...The lotus belongs to the water, keep it away from fire. Have the palace attendants nourish it with morning dew every day at dawn. It must have plenty of sunlight at noon, and remember to move it back into His Majesty’s inner hall at night to avoid disturbance from insects..."
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think they were caring for a high-ranking consort of the imperial harem rather than a plant.
The guard clicked his tongue inwardly.
It was just a pity...
A pity that their Emperor was not a man who understood tenderness. He never kept useless "waste" around him. This flower only gained entry into the palace by riding on the reputation of the Abbot of Huguo Temple. Once it passed through those gates, whether it lived or died depended entirely on the man at the top.
Meticulous gardening was impossible. simply not letting it die would already be an act of imperial grace.
"Careful now! We’re about to pass the palace gates!"
"Yes, sir!"
***
Rong Mu felt his nerves throbbing violently. His whole head was swimming, as if he had drunk bootleg liquor. He struggled to move his limbs, figuring he was likely in a hospital by now. Of all the things to do while visiting a royal garden, he actually managed to trip and fall into the ancient lotus pond. There probably wasn't a second person as clumsy as him in the world.
That pond was filled with a thousand years of vintage silt, a famous historical and cultural landmark in Yangcheng. Never mind whether the scenic area would pay his medical bills, it would be lucky if they didn't sue him for damages after his frantic splashing.
Thinking of his wallet, Rong Mu felt a surge of grief. He let out a light sigh, only to suddenly hear a voice explode like a thunderclap next to his ear.
"Who’s there!"
The air went dead silent.
The guard’s eyes swept over the carriage driver, his expression grim. "This is the Imperial Palace. Do you seek death with such impudence?"
Rong Mu: "...?"
...Wait a minute. Who was so tactless that they were binge-watching a costume drama in his hospital room?
"Have mercy, sir! It wasn't me! Give me ten times the courage and I still wouldn't dare! I... I don't know who it was either!"
The voices were muffled and distorted, as if traveling through water. To Rong Mu’s ears, they weren't just amplified, they came with a built-in horror-movie echo effect.
What was going on... was his head clogged with silt?
Rong Mu took a deep breath, intending to reach out and press the call button for the nurse. At the same time, he slowly opened his eyes... and saw a giant, round, green "hat" with natural veins sitting right over his head.
...
The carriage continued forward. The lotus leaf swayed and bobbed. Rong Mu’s stalled brain slowly processed the fact that above the green hat—no, the green leaf—there was an old, yellowish umbrella.
It looked like it was made of bamboo and sheepskin.
Something was very wrong.
Rong Mu shook his head hard, but from the outside, it merely looked like a delicate flower swaying pitifully in the wind and rain.
He used that momentum to perform a 360-degree observation of his surroundings.
Hospital bed? None. Only a large vat with a strange aesthetic and a carriage that felt like it would fall apart at any second.
Doctor? Also none. Beside him was a guard in black soft armor with a sharp blade hanging at his waist.
Help! Didn’t he just step into a lotus pond? How did he become a lotus flower and get put under guard?!
The sky was gloomy, and the surrounding palace walls were towering. The long palace path seemed endless. Behind them, the heavy palace gates closed with a resounding *thud*, cutting off the last sliver of outside light.
Rong Mu was stunned.
How did he pass out once and wake up as a different species?
No, no, this must be a nightmare... it'll be fine once I wake up, it'll be fine...
Rong Mu silently closed his eyes and tried to hypnotize himself. He stayed like that until the carriage stopped and he was carried down by two people with shrill, high-pitched voices.
"Oof, this thing is heavy! Between the vat and the water, it must weigh over a hundred pounds!"
"It is heavy. Rare treasures are delicate. The Master also gave instructions on how to care for it... Right, this is a personal letter from Great Master Minkong to His Majesty. Please pass it on, Eunuch Lang."
"Easy enough, easy enough."
Rong Mu’s nerves were pulled taut. He watched helplessly as two people dressed as little eunuchs carried him under a veranda. The guard and the carriage departed heartlessly, leaving him alone to daze in this eerily quiet place.
Only now did he truly realize that this was no longer his era.
He didn't know which dynasty this was, but the rules seemed strict and the atmosphere cold. Everyone passing by was an attendant with a bowed head.
And he, a freshly promoted white lotus flower, was stuck here, completely out of place.
Rong Mu didn't dare move an inch, fearing that the slightest anthropomorphic behavior would bring about a death sentence.
He looked around with his heart in his throat. Before he could make sense of anything, the eunuch in deep blue robes walked over and looked down at him... Well, he’d be lucky if he was even a meter tall right now.
Rong Mu held his breath and heard Eunuch Lang Xi muttering to himself, "His Majesty is likely reviewing memorials in the Qiankun Hall again. We can't leave the Master’s gift out here. I heard this is a spiritual Buddha Lotus..."
'Transmigrating as a Buddha Lotus is worse than transmigrating as a monk!' Rong Mu was practically a living dotted line face emoji. He was terrified he’d accidentally make another sound.
"You two, come here. Move this flower into the inner hall first. I’ll go see when His Majesty is returning. It’s already dark—"
"Yes, Eunuch Lang."
A moment later, the cold wind and drizzle were blocked by a luxurious palace. The late spring cold was biting, Rong Mu let out a long sigh of relief. The empty sleeping quarters echoed with the clear *drip-drop* of water.
Finally having a moment to breathe, he carefully observed himself.
From the knees down, he seemed to be rooted in water. The lotus stem was straight without extra leaves. Rong Mu moved slightly; he felt like nature had shaved him into a human stick... 'Stop, stop that thought.'
Fortunately, the surrounding leaves responded to his will. Based on the bits of information he’d gathered, this flower body was some kind of gift for the Emperor. He wondered what an Emperor would want with a flower... just to look at it?
The thought of being held and sniffed by someone made Rong Mu feel suffocated.
Speaking of which, what did this Emperor look like? Surely not like the ones in the history books? Since he’d already turned from a human into a flower, his imagination was running wild, visualizing illustrations of two beautiful maids propping up a fat Emperor—
SCREEECH—
The palace doors were too large and heavy. Even with constant maintenance, opening them always produced that hair-raising sound.
Perhaps because of the rainy evening, Rong Mu felt the palace was deathly still, devoid of any spark of life.
He struggled to turn his head. The first thing he saw was a pair of black-and-red brocade boots. Moving up, there was the hem of a robe, luxurious gold thread tracing the edges of deep black fabric. Three dominating colors that, when combined, didn't clash but instead existed solely to enhance the wearer.
The flower was too short and placed in a corner on the floor. Rong Mu had to crane his head high. He saw the high-ranking eunuch in blue bowing and scraping behind a man. The large, closed umbrella was dripping with water; despite the umbrella, the man's shoulder was half-wet, revealing a tall and imposing stature.
Rong Mu looked further up and froze. The water in the lotus vat rippled slightly.
The man’s long hair was tied back, though without a pin, leaving it to fall loosely as night approached. In the dim light, his features were blurred, save for the bridge of a high nose and the sharp line of a jaw and lip.
True royalty. Even in such a strange setting, his entire being radiated an aura that commanded others to kneel.
Rong Mu pulled his petals in. He heard the man's very first words:
"Move it out. It's ugly."
The eunuch immediately chirped an "Understood," his demeanor suggesting he was long accustomed to this.
Rong Mu, who had only enjoyed the warmth for fifteen minutes: "..."
"Wait. Where is Minkong’s letter?"
Lang Xi hurried to stop and presented the letter. "Replying to Your Majesty, it is right here."
Shang Cizhou lowered his eyes to take it, unfolding it with one hand as he walked toward the candlelight. Since Lang Xi hadn't received a new command, he gingerly glanced at his master's expression and then at the flower vat. Hesitant to guess the Emperor's whims, he simply retreated to the side to wait.
The candlelight flickered near the desk. And right under the desk sat Rong Mu.
The closer the man got, the more oppressive and intimidating the aura became. Rong Mu realized that no documentary or history book could compare to the feeling of a real Emperor standing right next to you. Moreover, this Emperor wasn't fat at all, he was draped in the heavy, mature authority of a sovereign.
It was terrifying.
His heart began to race. Simultaneously, a strange, inexplicable sense of "holy peace" surged up. Since this was Rong Mu’s first time being a flower, he had no idea what that was. Amidst his emotional fluctuations, he accidentally released a very crisp, cool fragrance.
It was a scent that was pure and far-reaching, refreshing the soul. It felt as though it could pull anyone back from the deepest darkness.
Shang Cizhou didn't seem to notice. He looked at the sandalwood-scented paper. Min Kong’s handwriting was wordy and unique.
> "Bi Jiang Xue is gentle by nature and possesses spirituality. Being in its presence can calm the mind and nourish the spirit. It is a one-in-ten-thousand rare Buddha Lotus and must be raised with care... This specimen was found by this poor monk while traveling through the Nandai and is specially presented to Your Majesty. For this flower, I have even established a deep bond with the Sovereign of Nandai..."
Cunning charlatan.
Deep bond was just a polite way of saying national enmity and personal hatred.
The Great Shang and Nandai had never been on good terms, they had been at war years ago. Furthermore, the soil of Great Shang hadn't been able to sustain a lotus for over a decade. To grow them, they had to be imported from Nandai and planted in vats, and even then, only one or two would survive. That was back when the old King of Nandai was still alive.
The new King had been on the throne for three years and, for some crazy reason, had long since banned the private trade of lotuses.
The Shang Dynasty hadn't seen such a flower in years. Many people didn't even recognize the species anymore.
Shang Cizhou gave a cold laugh. He narrowed his eyes and sat on the couch, one hand tapping his knee while the other held the letter heartlessly over the candle flame.
Rong Mu looked up and saw the gray ashes swirling down, landing right on his round, green lotus leaf. They nearly hit him in the face. The Emperor must have seen it, but he remained wickedly silent.
He stared at the flower for a long time, his features becoming sharp and domineering under the light. Eyes like blades, devoid of emotion, as if evaluating how much value a piece of merchandise could bring him.
...God help me.
Looking at that gloomy, handsome face filled with the cross me and die vibes of a total psycho, Rong Mu finally understood. Not only was he unlucky enough to become a "vegetable," he was also miserable enough to end up with a tyrant for a gardener.
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