"Can you truly revive that withered Jingliu Rose?" Old Huang asked, fearing he might have misunderstood.

It wasn't that he doubted the possibility outright; after all, a person, like a plant, could fall ill or suffer a severe sickness. Even when on the brink of death, a renowned doctor might offer a chance to salvage life.

But when one's natural lifespan is over, even the most skilled physician is powerless.

The same applied to flowers. When life reached its terminus, even the most exceptional horticulturist would be helpless. As a plant expert, Old Huang understood this principle acutely.

Yet today, someone dared to challenge this fundamental understanding—to save a flower that had withered naturally due to old age?

It was as absurd as a doctor claiming they could wake a person who had died of natural causes.

Had it been anyone else, Old Huang would have immediately dismissed the notion as sheer fancy. But if it were Zhong Yun... Old Huang found himself suspended between belief and doubt.

The moment he first saw Zhong Yun, Old Huang sensed the young man was anything but ordinary. There was something intensely unique about him, like a solitary lamp burning brightly in the darkness—captivating and fundamentally different from the masses.

Old Huang possessed innate discerning eyes, honed by a lifetime of observing countless individuals from every walk of life: masters of every trade, common folk, foreigners, even representatives from lower and higher civilizations.

Usually, a single glance was enough for him to gauge a person's general temperament, capabilities, and standing. Rarely did he misjudge.

Upon meeting Zhong Yun, Old Huang initially saw right through him: an utterly unremarkable young man with negligible talent. But upon a second, more focused look, he discovered a swirling mass of mist hidden within the youth’s body, impossible to discern clearly.

This shocked Old Huang profoundly. He wasn't unaccustomed to meeting people he couldn't fully read. Such individuals were either overwhelmingly powerful experts or profoundly deep, tenacious strategists holding high positions.

Looking at Zhong Yun again, the observation held: behind the guise of that average young man was an enigmatic fog. No matter how hard he strained, he could not see the face behind the mist.

Old Huang had never encountered this before, as if this young man housed two souls: one mediocre, the other fathomlessly profound.

Consequently, he developed an intense curiosity about this newcomer. Throughout his long life, he had witnessed the rise and fall of countless prodigious figures, able to discern glimpses of their future from their presence.

So, what would the destiny of this mysterious young man be? Old Huang, whose heart had long settled into tranquility, found himself, for the first time in ages, genuinely interested in someone’s fate.

When the youth presented the "Seven Fairies" flower, Old Huang felt surprisingly little shock, and much more excitement—the thrill of seeing a peerless treasure reappearing in the world.

Driven by curiosity, Old Huang made discreet inquiries about the background of this young man named Zhong Yun; he came from an ordinary white-collar family.

Zhong Yun’s documented history was almost pathetic. In many assessments, he scored lower than the average person. The verdict of "mediocre potential" fit him perfectly.

Furthermore, according to his school records, he was not known for being diligent or hardworking.

With neither innate talent nor self-discipline, by all normal standards, such a person would never achieve much in life. Yet, this very individual had cultivated the nearly extinct "Seven Fairies."

The contrast was so stark that everyone present believed he had merely stumbled upon incredible luck. This conviction deepened after they reviewed the video footage Zhong Yun provided detailing his cultivation methods.

Zhong Yun’s technique could only be described as clumsy. From their expert perspectives, he either overwatered or underwatered the plant; one time, while fertilizing, he actually dug up and broke the root of one specimen...

It was too brutal. The floral experts watched with agonizing sympathy; such a priceless flower as the "Seven Fairies" subjected to such treatment was a tragedy.

It deserved the most meticulous care from a master horticulturist, not the rough handling of an amateur like Zhong Yun, who barely qualified as an enthusiast.

Having ruled out any natural mutation caused by Zhong Yun's crude actions, they quickly settled on the most likely explanation: the seed itself must have mutated.

Young Zhong Yun was simply lucky to have bought that particular seed.

Old Huang, however, disagreed. The hidden mist within Zhong Yun suggested to him that this young man was far from simple.

Clearly, the youth himself was unaware of the secret residing within him, ignorant of the sheer potential he possessed.

But Old Huang could sense that this latent potential was gradually awakening.

The last time he saw Zhong Yun, his physical conditioning was only at the Second Stage. In the mere ten days since, he had broken through to the Third Stage, showing signs of surging toward the Fourth.

Old Huang had never witnessed such rapid progress in physical cultivation. This speed transcended mere genius; it was the level of a monstrous anomaly.

This only deepened his curiosity about the secrets hidden within the young man. Despite his vast experience, Old Huang could not fathom them.

Therefore, upon hearing that Zhong Yun could revive a naturally withered flower, Old Huang was only half-convinced, perhaps secretly hoping this seemingly ordinary youth could once again bring him a startling surprise.

Zhong Yun shot a sidelong glance at Yang Siqing, who was sitting nearby, thoroughly displeased by his loose tongue. Why bring up that subject?

Seeing Old Huang staring intently, Zhong Yun felt a genuine headache coming on; this was truly difficult to explain. "Uh... I'm really just trying. The chances of success are slim."

Yang Siqing knew she had let something slip. She turned her face away, pretending not to notice his irritation.

A look of excitement bloomed on Old Huang’s face, mirroring the day he first saw the "Seven Fairies." He suddenly grasped Zhong Yun’s hand. "When the time comes, may I assist you nearby?"

Faced with the old man’s eager gaze, Zhong Yun couldn't bring himself to refuse. He merely nodded in agreement. "I will notify you once the necessary equipment is in place."

"Wonderful!" The elder's face lit up with joy. He immediately slapped the table. "Tell me what equipment you need. My old face still carries some weight."

"You’ve already made it public knowledge," Zhong Yun sighed, politely declining. "I prefer not to let too many people know about this."

Old Huang immediately understood. "Right, those media pests. It's definitely best to keep this quiet."

He then looked at Zhong Yun with appreciative eyes. "Everyone nowadays is scrambling to achieve fame. Young Yun, at your age, to be able to resist the ** temptation—excellent, truly excellent."

Zhong Yun was caught between laughter and tears, thinking to himself, I just wanted to keep a low profile.

P: Tonight at midnight, we are pushing for the Newcomer Ranking. This is the last chance. If we break into the top fifteen, we will be displayed on the homepage. Brothers still online, please vote for me. Thank you very much.