61: Chapter 61 Blooming Peach Blossoms

Wang Sheng looked at Su Mengyao, watching petals fall onto her emerald green hair like colorful little boats floating on a verdant river, watching petals land on her shoulders like spring's embrace, watching petals drift onto the back of her fair hands like nature's gentlest kiss.

Then he took a step forward.

Su Mengyao's body trembled slightly, like a flower bud stirred by the wind. She lifted her head, her emerald eyes reflecting his face. His golden pupils were like two ambers ignited by sunlight, flowing with the majesty unique to a Holy Light Warrior.

But at this moment, that majesty did not contain the killing intent of battle, but rather a warmth and cherishing that resembled sunlight shining upon a flower.

"Mengyao."

He called her name—not "Su Mengyao," not "Nature Druid," not "Sister Mengyao," just the two words "Mengyao." It was like the sound of sunlight falling on petals, warm and gentle.

Su Mengyao's eyes turned slightly red.

It was not sadness, but an uncontrollable surge, like a spring that had been dammed for too long finally finding an outlet. From the day she transmigrated, from the moment the first seed in the Spirit Garden was sown, from every time he came to the garden to help her move the Savage Beast bone fertilizer,

That love, which had grown as silently as a spirit flower, was now, amidst the fluttering petals of the moonlight rose, driven by the Power of Nature to a point where it could no longer be hidden.

"Wang Sheng,"

Her voice trembled, like petals in the wind. Her hands gripped her skirt, the emerald silk dress wrinkling under her grasp, just as the surface of a lake is ruffled by the breeze.

"I..."

Tears shimmered in her emerald eyes—not tears of sorrow, but like morning dew condensing on a petal: crystalline, fragile, and heartbreakingly beautiful.

She took a deep breath, the fragrance of flowers flooding her chest as if nature had injected her with final courage.

"Wang Sheng, I want to plant flowers for you for the rest of my life."

Her voice was very soft, like a petal falling into the Lingxi River, but every word seemed infused with the Power of Nature, carrying an irreversible firmness like the blooming of a spirit flower.

"From the day of transmigration, from the moment I saw the expression of relief on your face when you saw that we were all safe by the Lingxi River, I knew."

Her voice grew softer, yet firmer, like a flower gathering strength one last time before blooming.

"I want to plant flowers for you for the rest of my life. When you are tired, I will give you a garden where you can rest. When you return from battle, I will give you a bouquet of freshly picked spirit flowers. When you... when you need me,"

Her voice finally trembled to the point where she could not continue. The tears in her emerald eyes finally slid off her petals like morning dew, trickling slowly down her porcelain-like cheeks, like the first silver-blue tear trace carved by the Lingxi River across the Savage Land.

"I am right here."

"Always here."

Wang Sheng looked at her.

Watching petals fall onto her tear tracks like spring kissing away the sorrow of a flower, watching her emerald hair flow like a river of jade amidst the fluttering petals, watching her full and soft figure within the green dress like a curve carved by the hands of the Savage Land's gods, watching the love that had been silently growing like a spirit flower in her emerald eyes for over twenty days finally bloom completely like a moonlight rose.

He reached out his hand,

As if sunlight had finally touched a flower.

His hand gently brushed away the tears on her cheek. When his fingertips touched her porcelain skin, Su Mengyao's body trembled slightly, like a flower branch brushed by a spring breeze. That trembling was not fear or nervousness, but a resonance of her whole being, like a seed finally falling into fertile soil.

Then he pulled her into his arms.

The moment Su Mengyao's body collided with his chest, she smelled the scent on him. The spiritual power of a Holy Light Warrior was like golden sunlight, but wrapped within that sunlight was a man's body temperature and heartbeat. That temperature was like afternoon sunlight falling on the soil of the Spirit Garden, warm and solid; that heartbeat was like the sound of the Lingxi River, steady and unshakeable.

Her hands gripped the Savage Beast leather armor on his chest, like vines climbing a great tree, her fingers tightening until her knuckles turned white, as if afraid that if she let go, she would be blown away by the wind.

Wang Sheng's arms wrapped around her waist. The Nature Druid's waist was as soft as a willow branch in the spring breeze, but the curve above her waist was stunningly full. His palms rested on her lower back, and through the silk fabric of the emerald dress, he could feel the warmth and slight trembling emanating from her skin, like holding a flower soaked in morning dew.

"Mengyao." His voice was against her ear, like sunlight falling on petals, "I know."

Su Mengyao's body stiffened in his arms for a moment, then, like a petal falling into the Lingxi River,

She softened completely, like a flower bud blown open by the spring breeze, just like fertile soil moistened by the waters of the Lingxi River. Her forehead rested against his chest, and her emerald hair hung down over his arms like a waterfall, like a verdant river flowing between his fingers.

"What do you know?" Her voice was muffled, like a small animal curled up in a warm nest, "You don't know anything."

"I know that you wake up an hour earlier than everyone else every day to come to the Spirit Garden to water the flowers."

Wang Sheng's voice was like a golden bell, steady and gentle, "I know that every time you help me move the Savage Beast bone fertilizer, you peek at me."

"I didn't!"

"Do you know how many moonlight roses are in your Spirit Garden?"

Su Mengyao's voice stopped.

"Seven." Wang Sheng's voice carried a hint of a smile, a smile like the warm sun of winter, welling up from his chest, warm and not scorching, "Seven moonlight roses, arranged in an arc. That is the shape of the moon."

Su Mengyao's ears turned as red as if they were dripping blood. The flush on her porcelain skin, like blooming peach blossoms, spread from her ears to her neck, as if spring were spreading across the entire forest.

She looked up, tears and laughter interwoven in her emerald eyes, like sunlight dancing on a spring lake.

"When, when did you notice?"

"From the day you planted the first one."

Su Mengyao's lips parted slightly, like petals in the wind, and then she closed her eyes and buried her face in his chest, her emerald hair flowing like a river of jade amidst the fluttering petals.

Her hands, the hands that had grown the most beautiful spirit flowers in Guangming Village, moved from the Savage Beast leather armor to his waist, wrapping around him like vines winding around a great tree.

Wang Sheng tightened his arms, pulling her entirely into his embrace, like sunlight embracing a flower.

Petals fluttered around them—golden, silver-white, emerald-green, silver-blue—like a palette overturned by the gods of the Savage Land, as if the flowers of the four seasons were blooming for them at the same moment.

The fragrance of the moonlight roses amidst the fluttering petals was like the sweetest vow, permeating the entire Spirit Garden.

Su Mengyao felt his palms against her back, the temperature like afternoon sunlight falling on the soil of the Spirit Garden, warm and solid. Her heartbeat and his gradually synchronized in the embrace, like two rivers merging at the same estuary.

She looked up.

Her emerald eyes were like two emeralds soaked in sunlight, tears in her eyes like morning dew. She looked at his face—sword-like brows and star-like eyes, deep and handsome, his golden pupils reflecting her shadow, just like sunlight reflecting on a spring lake.

"Wang Sheng," her voice was like a petal falling into the Lingxi River, "I am not like Xun'er who can manage the entire tribe, nor am I like Shiyun who can go to the battlefield to kill enemies. I only know how to plant flowers."

"Then plant flowers." Wang Sheng's fingers brushed through the petals caught in her emerald hair, like brushing over the gentlest leaf of spring, "Plant them for a lifetime."

Su Mengyao's tears finally slid off like morning dew from a petal, but the corners of her mouth curved up, like a hundred flowers blooming in unison, like sunlight dancing on a spring lake.

"Mm, a lifetime."

She buried her face back into his chest, her emerald hair hanging down over his arms like a waterfall. Wang Sheng gently scooped Su Mengyao up into his arms and walked slowly into a room deep in the garden, a room made entirely of flowers. It was Su Mengyao's boudoir.

After a long while, Su Mengyao's gentle and magnetic low moans drifted slowly from the flower room—a sound sweeter than flowers.

Inside the room, Su Mengyao's naked body unreservedly satisfied Wang Sheng, the fullness of her chest rising and falling with their uninhibited movements, outlining an alluring curve.

Su Mengyao's face radiated a tender peach-blossom pink, the reaction to being continuously stimulated.

Su Mengyao was gently taking the initiative, her mind filled only with positions to make Wang Sheng feel good. Endless, delicate gasps escaped from her cherry lips, love surging in her heart, every movement making Wang Sheng feel comfortable to the very core of his cells...