Zhong Yun steered the sightseeing cart down to the lower level and leaned out to pluck two Purple Marks, handing one to her.

Liu Yunqi took it and examined it closely. Indeed, there was a faint trace upon the oval petals.

"Did you know, that legend is true," Zhong Yun brought the purple flower to his nose, inhaling its scent. "Little Zi was actually an alien who became stranded on Earth after a navigational accident. Her kin eventually found her, and they picked her up in a flying saucer."

Liu Yunqi stared at him, astonished. "How do you know that?"

Zhong Yun offered a mysterious smile, retorting, "Which star do you suppose Little Zi was from?"

Liu Yunqi recalled the details of the story and suddenly had an epiphany. "Purple tears... could they be from the Jialan people?"

The Jialan people were physically almost identical to the Dawos, differing in only one respect: their purple eye-tears, which were their unique signature.

"Exactly, they are the Jialan people."

Zhong Yun gazed at the Purple Mark in his hand and explained, "The actual events are much like the legend, except the Purple Mark wasn't formed from Little Zi's tears, but rather it's a new hybrid species Little Zi engineered."

Liu Yunqi grew even more curious. "How do you know all this so clearly?"

Zhong Yun tucked the Purple Mark into the breast pocket of his shirt. "Niu Hou and Little Zi had a daughter. When she grew up, she married a young man whose surname was Zhong..."

Liu Yunqi suddenly understood, her eyes wide. She spoke in a tone of utter disbelief. "Wait... you... Zhong Yun... are Little Zi's daughter's... son?"

Zhong Yun shrugged. "You guessed right. My family is their descendant."

"Heavens above," Liu Yunqi covered her mouth. Reality was often stranger than fiction—this must be what they meant. Then, another thought struck her. "Does that mean you have Jialan blood?"

Zhong Yun smiled gently. "Don't you think it sounds too far-fetched?"

He touched his left middle finger with his right hand. "I read this story in the family genealogy. At first, I didn't believe it either, until..."

He suddenly sat up straighter. The sightseeing cart stopped moving. His wind-tousled hair obscured half his face, and the morning sunlight cast a golden sheen along his side. A searing light flared in his eyes, making Liu Yunqi unable to meet his gaze directly.

"When I was fifteen, I discovered a secret within myself." His voice carried an intoxicating magnetism; he was employing the Jialan art of enchantment.

"What secret?" Liu Yunqi was completely captivated, a nervous tension building inexplicably within her.

Zhong Yun looked at her intensely. Unable to bear it, Liu Yunqi flushed, looking away, her heart beating rapidly. What did he intend to do? Her hand quietly crept toward her waist.

Zhong Yun's eyelids flickered, and a single tear slid from the corner of his eye. He caught it on the edge of his fingernail and extended it toward her.

Liu Yunqi was stunned, barely believing her eyes. A single, crystalline teardrop was suspended on the flesh-toned nail, emitting a faint purple glow when the sunlight struck it. If you didn't look closely, you wouldn't notice it at all.

Purple tears—they really were purple tears. Liu Yunqi stared at the sight in disbelief. Although the color was faint, it was undeniably purple. Besides the Jialan people, she had never heard of any other human possessing such a trait.

Since the Jialan Kingdom was destroyed in an unprecedented cosmic catastrophe, only a few survivors scattered across the universe remained. But this small number was but a drop in the ocean of the cosmos; they were virtually an extinct race.

Thousands of years had passed; finding a pure-blooded Jialan now would likely be difficult.

It wasn't surprising that Jialan bloodlines might have survived, but finding such lineage within a civilization at the Intermediate level was astonishing.

In Liu Yunqi's understanding, beings from higher-level civilizations would never intermingle with those from lower levels—not only due to the inherent pride of the advanced civilization but also because it was detrimental to their offspring.

It was akin to someone from the Electronic Age mating with a member of a primitive tribe, yet even more absurd.

Davo had developed from recorded history to its current Intermediate Civilization status in a total of twelve thousand years, which was considered a relatively fast pace.

To reach the level of High Civilization, even the most optimistic estimates required another ten thousand years. This was only possible because they received technological aid from the Universal Alliance upon reaching the Intermediate stage; developing independently might take forty or fifty thousand years and still be uncertain.

The gap between High Civilization and Intermediate Civilization was measured in tens of thousands of years.

During the Age of Sail, a few hundred colonists armed with matchlock guns could obliterate a nation. In the Great Cosmic Age, this disparity would only be greater.

It was no exaggeration to say that, from the perspective of High Civilization, Middle and Lower Civilizations were like mere ants. Just as the Dawos viewed the Orlando State—a civilization that had just emerged into space thirty light-years away—as a group of savages steeped in ignorance.

The gulf between civilizations was often insurmountable. The appearance of bloodline tracing back to a former High Civilization within Davo was an extremely improbable occurrence.

No matter how fallen the Jialan people were, they shouldn't have sunk so low as to interbreed with members of a lower civilization.

Yet, the facts lay before her, leaving Liu Yunqi with no choice but to believe. She stood there, dumbfounded, as if dreaming.

Zhong Yun sat opposite her, gazing out at the sea of flowers, not disturbing her contemplation.

The story of the genealogy was true, and the narrative was true. But whether Little Zi was truly an alien, or even whether Little Zi had existed at all, was something no one could ever know.

He had merely exercised his imagination, linking the two narratives together. With the irrefutable evidence of his purple tear, whatever fantastical tale he spun carried conviction.

And the purple tear, of course, wasn't due to some Jialan descendant; he was a genuine, pure-blooded Davo. The purple tear was merely a side effect of cultivating the Jialan Yuan energy within his body.

It wasn't until the sightseeing cart stopped and Zhong Yun took her hand to disembark that she finally surfaced from her trance. She looked up at Zhong Yun, her gaze incredibly complicated, before lowering her head, lost in thought as Zhong Yun led her forward.

Noticing her silence, Zhong Yun wisely remained quiet. He presented a card to the staff and was granted passage.

This was the center of the flower sea, its core, reputed to house the most complete collection of flora—any flower you could name could be found here.

Naturally, this area was not open to just anyone. The card Zhong Yun displayed was a membership to the Flower Association, gifted to him by Old Man Huang, who had helped him authenticate the "Seven Fairies."

Initially, he hadn't paid it much mind. Later, while searching for information on various flowers online, he discovered that some data required special access.

Further searching on how to obtain clearance revealed the significant privileges his membership card held: access to much critical data and numerous unexpected benefits.

For instance, the moment the guard saw the membership card, his demeanor shifted noticeably, adopting a degree of deference as he allowed Zhong Yun and his female companion to enter.

Unlike the natural flower sea outside, this was a modern, high-end facility. Upon entering, they saw a vast exhibition hall where a beautiful woman in a black uniform greeted them with a warm smile.

"Hello, welcome to the Flower Sea. How may we assist you?" Her voice was melodious and pleasant.

Zhong Yun couldn't help but look at her a few times; she was tall, and the sleek, knee-length black uniform perfectly accentuated her graceful figure.