Yang Siqing paused, hesitating, "Are you well-acquainted with the Yang family?" "Absolutely." Zhong Yun nodded vigorously. "Yunqi and I are classmates, and I've met Third Uncle a few times." He stressed the words "classmates" heavily, dropping the "Yang" before Third Uncle's title to emphasize their closeness.

Indeed, though Yang Siqing asked no further questions, the way she looked at him softened considerably. "Why do you want to buy this withered Crystal Glaze Rose?" The same question, previously delivered with aggressive insistence, now held a much gentler tone, sounding more like an inquiry to a younger relative.

"Forgive my presumption, but this Crystal Glaze Rose has naturally withered because its lifespan has ended, hasn't it?" Zhong Yun countered, not answering directly. Yang Siqing didn't show impatience; her expression dimmed.

"That's correct. It has been with me for twenty years.

I once promised her I would cherish this bloom. I never expected it to wither like this." "I consulted every floral expert in Davao; they all said it couldn't be saved.

In the end, I had no choice but to break my vow and return to Planet Da’er." "It's a pity, even Old Man Huang was helpless." By the time he finished speaking, his heart was ashes. The imperious aura vanished without a trace, and he reverted to the hunched, weary old man he appeared to be.

Zhong Yun felt a pang of pity, coupled with genuine admiration for the depth of his devotion. The "Crystal Glaze Rose" could be described as one of the most delicate flowers, extremely sensitive to external conditions.

Even slight shifts in climate or minor alterations in air humidity could cause it harm. This was a bloom that could only be kept in a specially regulated greenhouse.

Moreover, its physiological cycle was notoriously erratic and inconsistent. No two plants were the same, meaning experience couldn't simply be generalized.

Automated temperature control systems were often useless. Unless tended by an exceptionally seasoned florist, ordinary people simply couldn't care for it.

Otherwise, it would either die prematurely or its appearance would be severely compromised, yielding blooms unfit for viewing. Consequently, the cultivation cost for a Crystal Glaze Rose was quite high, and the cost increased exponentially in its later stages.

Even professional florists struggled to keep a Crystal Glaze Rose alive until the very end of its natural life. It demanded an immense amount of effort.

The later the stage, the more difficult it became to nurture, requiring an unimaginable expenditure of time and energy. Therefore, a Crystal Glaze Rose that withered due to reaching the end of its lifespan was exceptionally rare.

It was likely that someone like Yang Siqing, who had invested so much emotion into the flower, would spare no effort in caring for it. "This withered Crystal Glaze Rose is very important to me," Zhong Yun said after a moment of hesitation.

"And... perhaps I can bring it back to life." "What did you say?" Yang Siqing’s body shook.

He looked at Zhong Yun in disbelief, two piercing glares shooting from his eyes that were impossible to meet directly. Zhong Yun’s scalp tingled under the gaze.

He swallowed hard and subtly took a step back. "I said, perhaps—only perhaps—I might be able to revive this Crystal Glaze Rose.

I can't guarantee success; the probability is very low." "Are you serious?" Yang Siqing surged forward, reaching out to grab Zhong Yun’s arm. Zhong Yun tried to dodge, but he wasn't fast enough, and the grip landed squarely.

"Senior Yang, you're hurting me." Zhong Yun felt his arm clamped in an iron grip, the pain bringing cold sweat to his brow. "Ah, my apologies." The old man realized his strength and quickly released his hold.

"Can you really bring her back to life?" The anxiety and excitement on his face were unconcealed. Though immense doubt churned within him—if the most renowned floral expert in the nation, Old Man Huang, couldn't save it, why should a young man like him succeed?—he refused to let go of even a sliver of hope.

"I didn't say I could definitely save it," Zhong Yun rubbed the arm that was already beginning to bruise under the grip, emphasizing his point again. "I can only do my utmost.

Success will depend on the flower's own fate." "Even if you only have a one-in-ten chance, I'll let you try." Hearing this, Yang Siqing found himself believing him more. If he had boasted of guaranteed success, he would certainly have been dismissed as a fraud.

"What equipment do you need? I'll get it for you," Yang Siqing stated decisively.

His tone suggested he could procure anything required. Zhong Yun was about to refuse but suddenly thought: Why should I be polite with him?

He’s a Yang family member. Never mind his current destitute appearance; getting a few things should be trivial for him.

So, he changed tack. "I'll draw up a list for you when we get back." This was a debt to be collected, a way to compensate for the losses exacted by ZER.

Yang Siqing nodded, not bothering to ask what or how much equipment was needed. In his mind, nothing was as important as this Crystal Glaze Rose.

Furthermore, such trivial requests were not beyond his reach. Although he had left the Yang family, he retained old connections.

Given his former standing, even stripped of the Yang family's backing, he remained a figure of considerable importance. Several kilometers down the road, inside a silver shuttle parked by the roadside, a middle-aged man rested his feet on the dashboard, listening to his subordinate's report.

"The target is currently with an old man; Unit Five is in position," came a flat, mechanical voice devoid of inflection. "Proceed," the middle-aged man said lightly, as if discussing something as inconsequential as inviting someone for tea.

"Understood." After ending the call, the man removed the communication chip from his phone, crushing it between two fingers. When he opened them, the plastic card had turned to dust.

"Drive," he instructed the chauffeur. The shuttle lifted, soaring onto the traffic track, and soon vanished without a trace.

Zhong Yun hurried toward Old Man Huang’s residence, worried the elder might be waiting too long. Behind him, Yang Siqing followed unhurriedly.

Zhong Yun had told the old man several times to go back and wait, assuring him he would make contact. But the elder had replied coolly, "I won't let you out of my sight until you save Qingqing.

I have nowhere else to go anyway." Ultimately, Zhong Yun yielded in resignation. Suddenly, Yang Siqing, walking behind, paused momentarily, then abruptly lifted his head and scanned sharply toward the upper left.

A sheen of golden light coated his eyes. Zhong Yun’s hair instantly stood on end as a sense of extreme danger welled up from the depths of his heart.

Before he could react, a push struck his back, sending him tumbling forward. A beam of light, almost invisible to the naked eye, shot in from a distance, striking the exact spot where Zhong Yun had been standing.

The light hit the ground and disappeared. As soon as Zhong Yun landed, he instinctively rolled sideways.

Another beam shot past, grazing his clothes before striking the earth. Having been ambushed twice right before his eyes, Yang Siqing became instantly furious.

He snatched a stone from the ground and hurled it toward the enemy's position. "Whoosh—" A sharp, abrasive sound sliced through the air as the stone flew, followed by a muffled groan from down the street, and then silence.

Seizing the opportunity, Zhong Yun scrambled, crawling around the street corner, and collapsed onto the ground. His mouth felt dry, and his heart hammered uncontrollably, threatening to burst from his chest.

Just moments ago, he had brushed shoulders with Death. In both his past and present lives, he had been nothing more than an ordinary student, utterly inexperienced in such perilous situations.

Unending terror seized his mind. He felt the tangible threat of death—a fear that was impossible to suppress.

One phrase echoed relentlessly in his mind: Who wants to kill me? Who exactly wants to kill me?

P: The power went out for a whole day; the electricity just came back on, which is why this is late.