"It seems you've made quite the enemy; someone wants you dead," Yang Siqing's aged voice cut through the tension just in time, revealing it was just a false alarm.

Zhong Yun leaned back against the wall, not asking about the fate of the attacker first, but checking on the old man. "Are you alright?"

Yang Siqing glanced at him, surprised. He thought to himself that the kid knew how to win people over, though he was secretly pleased. He scoffed dismissively, "If I couldn't handle such minor figures, I'd have lived all these years for nothing."

In his hand, he was turning over an object shaped like a submachine gun from his previous life, though it was miniature, only the size of two palms.

"What is that?" Hearing the old man speak so casually, Zhong Yun finally relaxed completely. Seeing the object in his hand, he asked.

"A miniaturized super-lightwave pulse gun—a fine piece of work," Yang Siqing was clearly fascinated by the little gadget. "The lightwave it emits has incredible destructive power against the heart; anyone hit often dies instantly from cardiac arrest."

"And others would just assume they died of a sudden heart attack. Even if it went to the medical examiner, they wouldn't find anything, because the symptoms are identical to a natural cardiac event."

Zhong Yun felt a fresh wave of lingering fear. If he hadn't run into Yang Siqing today, and if the old man hadn't insisted on following him, he might already be an unjustly dead soul right now.

"Thank you very much this time; you saved my life," Zhong Yun said sincerely.

The old man smiled faintly. "If you truly wish to repay me, just save my Qingqing."

"I will do my utmost," Zhong Yun promised solemnly.

The old man nodded, saying no more, and put the gun away.

Zhong Yun also stood up. During the crisis, he hadn't noticed it, but now that the danger had passed, his limbs felt weak. He gave a self-deprecating smile—he was still too timid.

He made a resolution in his heart: after returning, he must make ZER train him rigorously. Only with greater strength could he better protect himself and those around him.

This world was not as safe as he had imagined.

With that thought, a sense of pressure welled up from the depths of his heart, urging him forward.

"Is that gun hard to obtain?" Shaking his suddenly stiff hands, Zhong Yun suddenly asked.

"Although this gun kills invisibly, it has a fatal flaw: its range is too short, only fifty meters effective range, and it consumes a lot of energy—one unit of energy yields only two shots. Its power is also quite limited; one shot can kill at most one person."

"So, it wasn't mass-produced. However, as the ultimate weapon for assassination, because it leaves little trace after killing, it is favored by certain factions... Still, it’s not something any stray cat or dog can get their hands on."

Yang Siqing implied that the people Zhong Yun had offended were quite powerful.

Zhong Yun remained silent. Feeling recovered now, he walked toward Elder Huang’s house. As they neared, he asked, "That person—how was he dealt with?"

Yang Siqing, following behind him, casually replied, "I handled it cleanly; there won't be any loose ends."

Thinking of the human life behind the old man's careless words made Zhong Yun’s heart chill.

No matter how much civilization evolved, the law of the jungle remained unchanged.

But just who hated him enough to seek his death? Several faces flashed through Zhong Yun's mind.

While he was thinking, they arrived at Elder Huang’s home. He rang the doorbell, and the door opened.

"Why are you here again?" Elder Huang couldn't help but frown upon seeing Yang Siqing behind Zhong Yun. He had thought he'd finally gotten rid of that plague, only for him to return so quickly—a truly persistent ghost.

Zhong Yun found it strange. For Elder Huang, who usually maintained such perfect composure, to show such clear displeasure toward Yang Siqing suggested the old man must have done something truly excessive to him.

"Elder Huang, hello, we meet again." Yang Siqing ignored his expression, greeting him with an unruffled face, demonstrating his extraordinary thick skin.

Though helpless, Elder Huang couldn't bring himself to drive them away because of Zhong Yun. He said sternly, "I already told you, I am utterly incapable concerning this potted plant."

"Don't worry, I won't bother you anymore," Yang Siqing said.

"Really?" Elder Huang saw he wasn't joking and was half-relieved, figuring as long as the pestering stopped, that was enough. He then shot Zhong Yun a suspicious look, wanting to ask something but restraining himself, leading them both into his house.

Elder Huang's house was large; it was more like a garden than a residence. The courtyard was filled with countless plants, mostly common trees and flowers, which didn't quite match Elder Huang's status.

Noticing the strange look on Zhong Yun's face, Elder Huang smiled. "Actually, in nature, all plants are equal; there is no distinction of high or low worth. It is only humans who artificially separate them into tiers."

"Every plant possesses its own unique beauty, but most people's eyes are clouded by utilitarian concerns, preventing them from seeing it." He turned to look at the plants he had cultivated himself. "All the flowers and grasses here are the ones best suited to this climate."

These words opened Zhong Yun's eyes. Elder Huang's mind was indeed different from ordinary people. Looking at the plants in the yard again, his perspective had shifted; the thriving vitality gave him a palpable sense of life force.

Elder Huang led them to the reception room. After they were seated, the Elder personally brewed tea for them.

After drinking a cup of tea, Zhong Yun finally stated the purpose of his visit. "I came today mainly to thank Elder Huang for your great kindness toward me." He took something out of his pocket. "A small gift, certainly not worthy of your stature, please accept it."

Elder Huang chuckled heartily and took the small box from his hand, opening it immediately. Inside lay a delicate, exquisitely small pair of shears.

"Oh?" Elder Huang took out the shears, appearing slightly surprised.

Zhong Yun explained, "I heard from Yunqi that your No. 9 Pruning Shears went missing, so I went to buy a new pair. Do you think this one is suitable?"

"It's perfect, perfect." Elder Huang’s face showed unconcealed delight; he was clearly very satisfied with the gift.

No. 9 Pruning Shears were uncommon and rarely used; few people outside of professionals would bother buying them, making them hard to find. The item itself was secondary; given Elder Huang's standing, he lacked nothing. What pleased him was the thought this young man had put in.

"How is that 'Seven Fairies' doing?" Zhong Yun changed the subject.

"Growing well. 'Seven Fairies' isn't a delicate variety; it's not hard to care for," Elder Huang replied, placing the No. 9 shears back into the box on the table.

"Old Man Fei is preparing to hold an exhibition on the day the 'Seven Fairies' blooms, inviting many celebrities to view it. As its former owner, would you like to come and see?"

"I won't go join in the excitement." Zhong Yun was focused on training himself properly and had no time for exhibitions.

"If you decide you want to go later, let me know," Elder Huang said.

"Is the 'Seven Fairies' you are discussing the peerless treasure mutated from the Purple-White Orchid?"

Yang Siqing couldn't help but ask. Since entrusting his emotions entirely to the Crystal Glaze Rose, he had gained considerable knowledge about various flowers to be a competent horticulturist. Hearing about the 'Seven Fairies' was not unusual.

"Of course, what other 'Seven Fairies' could there be?" Elder Huang replied without politeness.

"Didn't they say the 'Seven Fairies' was already extinct? How did the Fei family manage to acquire a pot?" Yang Siqing murmured.

"Speaking of that, we have young Yun to thank. Without him, the 'Seven Fairies' could never have reappeared in this world," Elder Huang stroked his beard.

"What?" Yang Siqing’s gaze toward Zhong Yun instantly changed. "You grew the 'Seven Fairies'?"

"Am I lying?" Elder Huang said, displeased.

Of course, Yang Siqing didn't doubt Elder Huang; it was just that the matter seemed too incredible, which prompted his extra question. Once confirmed, a surge of wild joy filled his heart. This meant that Zhong Yun’s claim about saving Qingqing might not be just empty boasting after all.

"My Qingqing has hope!"

"What?" This time, it was Elder Huang's face that dramatically changed.