Once every hundred years, the grand Flower Festival was held. Flower spirits and flower demons from all four corners of the realm flocked to Flower City to pay homage to the Flower Deity. Inside the city, one was bound to run into familiar faces at every turn. But the liveliness outside paled in comparison to the bustle within the Flower Palace itself—its halls were filled with stunning celestial maidens coming and going, busy decorating the venue for the event.
“Do you think we’ll really get to see the Divine Lord?” a young camellia demon asked with starry eyes. “I think I saw him from afar last time.”
“There are strict rules for the inner banquet—it’s nothing like the chaos outside. You’ll get a better look this time. He’ll be seated above us, drinking and speaking with us.” The one who replied was a peony demon who had cultivated for nearly a thousand years and had already attended several inner banquets.
“The palace is more beautiful than outside. Even the mortal realm doesn’t have such tall pillars!” The little camellia demon hugged one of the towering columns outside the palace doors in admiration. She had just reached her five-hundredth year of cultivation—this was her very first time entering the Flower Palace, as only flower spirits who had cultivated for five hundred years or more were permitted to attend the inner banquet. The rest had to remain outside the city walls.
“Have some sense. Don’t embarrass me in front of others.” The peony demon scolded her and quickly pulled her away. “The mortal world is nothing compared to the immortal realm. Only someone like you would be running around all the time.”
Realizing she’d made a fool of herself, the camellia demon let go of the pillar and hurriedly said, “I’ve been to the mortal realm. It’s very nice. I even ate their dishes.”
“Eat? Too much mortal food and you’ll be tainted by worldly aura. That’ll block your path to immortality!” The peony demon recalled her own past and shuddered. “Back then, before I’d cultivated enough, I lived in the imperial gardens. Those despicable mortals would pluck and break flower branches—do you know how much spiritual energy I lost? I lived every day in fear. You still haven’t shed your plant form. If they find you, they’ll chop you down without mercy!”
The little camellia demon insisted stubbornly, “There are humans who love flowers too!”
“Plants like us are bound by our original form. We have no say in it.” The peony demon sighed. “It’s a bitter fate. Even if we’re careful in every way, tribulations still come. We’re not like the green snakes and the like.”
“Let’s hurry over to our seats,” the camellia demon urged. “The Divine Lord might arrive any minute!”
“It’s still early—at least two more hours,” the peony demon snapped, rolling her eyes. Then she spotted a cluster of narcissus spirits in the distance and quickly softened her tone. “I’m going to chat with them for a bit. You can walk around by yourself, but make sure you’re back here in two hours. I’ll be waiting.”
The peony demon was the only senior spirit she knew, and now that she’d left, the little camellia demon felt even more alone and helpless. Everyone allowed into the palace had cultivated over five hundred years—who would pay any attention to a small fry like her? No one greeted her, no one struck up conversation. Her usual companions were still in the outer city.
Though she had never understood the concept of inferiority, she also had no interest in currying favor with the snobbish high immortals or ancient spirits. So she simply ran along the veranda, heading toward where there were fewer people.
The long corridors, the soaring halls, and the grand flower-clock that marked the hours—everything amazed her.
. Part 1){kind=link}
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