Chapter 53: The Secret of the Eternal Flower Part 1

With the jade medallions in their possession, entry into Cloud City was effortless. The city guards cleared the path, allowing them to proceed directly to their destination without hindrance.

The rider pulled back the carriage curtain, keeping her voice low and raspy. “This flower is to be delivered directly to the Sword Trial Stage. There will be inspections along the way, but under no circumstances should it pass through anyone’s hands but ours.”

Feng Yun’ai sat up straight, her gaze flickering toward the rough cloth covering the clay pot.

Beneath the coarse fabric, there was likely a layer of oilpaper; not even a hint of the scent of damp earth managed to seep through. At this moment, she couldn’t risk opening it to investigate. If anyone noticed anything amiss, their plan would be ruined.

After passing through the Le’an Gate and traveling south for another few minutes, they reached a vast, open clearing. A stone platform stood there, and in its center sat a thirty-foot heavy sword cast from gold and stone, bound by thick chains.

This was the Sword Trial Stage. The sword itself served as the “flower stand” where both secrets and plants were hidden.

Back on Listening Goose Peak, Feng Yun’ai had only seen it as a distant, towering silhouette. Now that the carriage had stopped and she stood beside the platform, she realized just how gargantuan the structure truly was.

The tip of the sword was buried deep in the earth, as if pinning the very land in place.

Feng Yun’ai looked up. Beneath the vast blue sky, the scarred hilt stood in solitary defiance. For a moment, she felt a wave of vertigo, as if she were losing her footing.

Someone approached from a distance, cupping their hands in a respectful greeting. “Where is the Golden-Wanderer Eternal Flower?”

To Feng Yun’ai, most flora were total mysteries. The books she usually handled were manuals of martial techniques, the Register of Ten Thousand Nomads, or the occasional marketplace novella. There wasn’t a single text regarding herbs or flowers to be found in the Archive.

She took mental note of the name and simply gestured toward the carriage without saying a word, fearing her voice would give her away the moment she spoke.

Fortunately, the man didn’t seem particularly close to the two members they were impersonating. He didn’t find her silence unusual and asked no further questions. He walked to the carriage, lifted the curtain to verify the presence of the Golden-Wanderer Eternal Flower, and turned back. “You two, move this down.”

Sang Chencao stood nearby, wearing someone else’s face. She had shed her usual lazy, languid posture. Gripping the cloth-wrapped pot, she exerted a subtle amount of internal power and lifted the object off the carriage with deceptive ease.

The two men who had met them didn’t uncover the cloth. They simply circled the object once, then nodded once they were satisfied. “Hard work. Please, move the Golden-Wanderer Eternal Flower into the Stone Sword.”

It seemed the object bore some hidden mark. As long as the mark was intact, they could confirm the vessel was undisturbed.

Feng Yun’ai glanced surreptitiously at Sang Chencao. To be honest, she had no idea where the mechanism on the Stone Sword was. The blade had no visible holes or doors; at first glance, it didn’t look like something one could enter. How were they supposed to put the flower inside?

Sang Chencao remained unruffled. She raised an arm and said, “If you would be so kind.”

The two men exchanged a look, then suddenly leaped into the air. Each grabbed a chain and kicked off the stone platform, soaring toward the sky as if trying to rip the Stone Sword from the ground.

A sudden rumble shook the earth.

Feng Yun’ai stared at the platform. The bladeless heavy sword, buried deep within the stone, was actually being pulled slowly upward. Like the sun rising at dawn, the sword ascended inch by inch.

At the tip of the sword, a concealed door wide enough for one person slowly appeared. The interior was hollow—this was where the people and the flowers were hidden.

The two men pulling the chains let go and landed back on the platform, clearly exhausted. Sweat rolled down their temples and their faces were deathly pale, evidence of the massive amount of internal power they had just expended.

They cupped their hands and prepared to leave. Before departing, one of them said, “Once the flower is placed, please return everything to its original state.”

Watching them leave, Sang Chencao—who had been putting on an act for so long—finally let out a snort. Her gait became loose and casual again as she stepped inside. “So, this is the trick to the Sword Trial Stage.”

Feng Yun’ai grabbed a corner of the rough cloth and sent the half-man-tall, earth-scented object forward with a burst of inner qi. It tumbled like a rolling boulder through the narrow door of the Stone Sword.

Sang Chencao caught it on the other side.

“Xiuxiu, aren’t you afraid of crushing me?” Sang Chencao teased.

Feng Yun’ai followed her inside. She looked up into a darkness as black as ink, unable to see the top of the Stone Sword. “Your skills are exceptional,” she said, shaking her head. “If you were so easily injured, you wouldn’t be half as cautious as you are.”

“Why would I need caution in front of you?” Sang Chencao murmured with a smile. Her words seemed to carry a weight of unspoken affection, enough to make one’s imagination run wild.

Feng Yun’ai froze for a moment, then averted her gaze. After a beat, she asked, “How did you know those two would help pull the sword out?”

“I wouldn’t waste my time chatting with the original deliverymen,” Sang Chencao said, her eyes curving. “I only chat with Xiuxiu.”

Feng Yun’ai pursed her lips and remained silent.

Sang Chencao leaned in to inspect the object. She realized there were several inconspicuous pins hidden in the rough cloth. If the cloth were removed mid-journey, the pins would be impossible to put back correctly. She used two fingers to pinch one of the pins and gave a cold laugh. “I see.”

The pin was as long as a half-arm—long enough to pierce right through the clay vessel beneath.

Feng Yun’ai’s heart skipped a beat. These pins were incredibly sharp. If they were driven into a person, they would likely go straight through someone with a slender build.

The pin clattered to the floor. Sang Chencao pulled the rest out carelessly and tossed them aside.

As the last long pin fell, Sang Chencao smiled. “Let’s peel it back and see what kind of treasure this Golden-Wanderer Eternal Flower really is.”

“You don’t know either?” Feng Yun’ai frowned.

“The Northern Regions are too far and too cold,” Sang Chencao said nonchalantly. “Even if someone chased me, I wouldn’t go there willingly. I’ve heard before that this flower is rare and its blooming period is exceptionally long. They say it can’t be used for medicine and contains no toxins. It’s just pretty to look at, so I never bothered to go find one.”

That sounded like her. This woman seemed to act on whim, but she was actually quite calculating; she wouldn’t waste time on useless efforts.