35: Chapter 35 The Language of Sunflowers

"Mengyao." Wang Sheng spoke suddenly.

"Hmm?" Su Mengyao turned her head to look at him. Her emerald-green hair slid over her shoulders like a waterfall of green, and the light and shadows of the flower field were reflected in her jade-colored eyes.

"Thank you."

Su Mengyao was stunned for a moment. "Thank you for what?"

"The spirit fields, the herb gardens, the Spirit Garden—all the food and medicinal materials in the camp rely on you to manage them."

Wang Sheng's voice was calm, but every word carried an unquestionable sincerity. "Without you, the Bright Tribe wouldn't be able to last even a single day."

Su Mengyao's jade-colored eyes moistened slightly in that instant.

It wasn't just because of being touched, although she was touched. It was because of a deeper, warmer feeling of being seen.

She was used to working silently, used to giving without asking for anything in return, and used to taking care of everyone in a manner as gentle as water. This was her nature, and also the mission bestowed upon her by her profession.

That is what a Nature Druid is: nourishing all things in the shadows, guarding life in silence, as silent and great as the earth itself.

But after being silent for so long, she occasionally wished to be seen.

To be seen by that person.

"Wang Sheng..." Su Mengyao's voice was as soft as water, but it held a hint of a tremor that was hard to detect. Her jade-colored eyes were like two gems moistened by water in the morning light.

"Do you know what a Nature Druid fears most?"

"What?"

"Not the Savage Beasts, not the shadows, not danger." Su Mengyao lowered her head, her emerald-green hair draping over her shoulders like a green waterfall. Her voice was as soft as a clear spring striking stones.

"What a Nature Druid fears most is that no one needs the flowers she grows."

Wang Sheng looked at her lowered head. The residual warmth from when he had brushed away the flower petals still lingered in her emerald-green hair, and a faint blush appeared on her porcelain-white nape.

Her full, soft figure trembled slightly beneath her light green dress. It wasn't fear, but the trembling of emotions that had been suppressed for too long finally finding an outlet.

"I need them." Wang Sheng's voice wasn't loud, but in the quiet of the flower field, it was as clear as an engraving.

"Not just the flowers—I need you. The spirit fields need you, the herb gardens need you, the Spirit Garden needs you. The Bright Tribe needs you."

He paused, his gaze falling on the few petals remaining in her emerald-green hair: "I need you, too."

Su Mengyao's body stiffened for a moment.

Then, she suddenly raised her head. Her jade-colored eyes were like two gems lit by the sun, filled with surprise, joy, disbelief, and a light as sweet as honey that she couldn't suppress.

Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but the sound was stuck in her throat. All the responses she had carefully prepared became useless at this moment, leaving only the moisture in her jade-colored eyes sparkling like crushed diamonds in the morning light.

"I..." Her voice was like petals scattered by the spring breeze, so soft it was almost inaudible. "What you said... is it true?"

"It is."

A tear finally spilled from Su Mengyao's jade-colored eyes. It wasn't a tear of sadness, but a tear of joy—a tear of being seen, being needed, and being cherished.

That tear slid down her porcelain-white cheek like a crushed diamond in the morning light, dripping onto the jade heart herb leaf on the back of her hand, where it was instantly absorbed. A Nature Druid's tears are themselves a spiritual medicine, containing the purest Power of Nature.

"Then... can you..." Su Mengyao's voice was as faint as a mosquito's hum. She peeked at him through the gaps in her eyelashes, her emerald-green hair fluttering gently in the morning breeze like a green veil.

"Can you... come to my garden often in the future?"

"Okay."

"Every day?"

"Mm, every day."

Su Mengyao's lips finally curved upward. That smile was like a hundred flowers blooming at once, like the spring breeze brushing over the earth, like all the flowers opening in the same instant.

Her jade-colored eyes curved into two crescent moons, and her porcelain-white face glowed with a faint green hue and a soft blush. Her emerald-green hair was like a piece of green silk sprinkled with gold dust in the morning light.

She was as beautiful as a fairy who had walked out of a painting—no, more beautiful than any painting. Paintings are static,

while Su Mengyao's beauty was flowing, vivid, and carried the scent of flowers and morning dew, as if Spring itself had taken human form and was standing in the flower field smiling at him.

Wang Sheng couldn't help but reach out again, brushing away another petal remaining in her emerald-green hair. This time, his fingers lingered in her hair a little longer than before,

his fingertips gently stroking that strand of silky-smooth emerald-green hair, feeling the warmth radiating from the strands.

Su Mengyao did not lower her head.

She looked up, her jade-colored eyes fixed directly on him. In those eyes, like the lake water of spring,

were reflected the golden petals of the golden sun flower canopy, the golden-speckled light of the morning, and his face.

Her breathing quickened slightly, her porcelain-white chest rising and falling gently beneath the round neckline of her light green dress. The scent of flowers became more intense with her breathing.

This was a physiological reaction unique to a Nature Druid when emotionally stirred; the body would automatically release more spiritual Power of Nature, prompting the surrounding flowers to bloom.

Sure enough, the golden petals on the golden sun flower canopy opened slightly at that instant, and more golden spiritual light surged from the stamens, enveloping the two of them in a layer of warm golden radiance.

"Wang Sheng..." Su Mengyao's voice was as soft as a dream, her jade-colored eyes like two gems moistened by the golden spiritual light, beautiful enough to not belong to the mortal world.

"Hmm?"

"Do you know what the language of the golden sun flower is?"

"What?"

Su Mengyao lowered her head slightly. Her emerald-green hair was like a flowing river of green stars in the golden spiritual light. Her voice was like a clear spring striking stones, as gentle as if Spring had turned into language:

"The language of the golden sun flower is, 'Born for you'."

After she finished speaking, she peeked at him through the gaps in her emerald-green hair. That glance contained shyness, anticipation, joy,

and a trace of sweetness as thick as honey that she herself dared not fully admit.

Wang Sheng's fingers still lingered in her emerald-green hair, his fingertips sensing the warmth of her strands and the sweet, clear scent of flowers.

He watched her lowered head, her emerald-green hair hanging down like a curtain, her porcelain-white face glowing with a faint green hue and a soft blush in the golden spiritual light,

her full, soft figure beneath her light green dress was like a flower stem urged to its peak by the spring breeze, beautiful as a poem written only for him.

"Mengyao." He softly called her name.

"Hmm?"

"The language of the golden sun flower—I have remembered it."

Su Mengyao's jade-colored eyes shone like stars in that instant.