Chapter Forty-Five: Buying Flowers

Zhu Yingtai laughed from the side, “You really should have gotten up earlier.”
That radiant smile dazzled Liu Ping’s eyes for a moment.
How handsome, he thought, this rascal—truly enviable. No, wait, she’s a woman, isn’t she?
Liu Ping shook his head. Was he still muddled from sleep, or had he forgotten in those days spent isolated in that small world?
With a shift in his mindset, the face no longer seemed handsome, but beautiful—lovely, and his mood instantly brightened.
He mused inwardly: is this the repulsion of the same sex, the attraction of opposites?
Staring like that made Zhu Yingtai a little uncomfortable. She muttered, “Why do you keep looking at me?”
Liu Ping smiled, answering honestly, “Just now I nearly forgot your true self. I was jealous of your face—how can you look so handsome?”
Clearly teasing, his words made Zhu Yingtai blush with slight annoyance. She snorted, “If you keep saying such things, I won’t talk to you anymore.”
It sounded almost like a lover’s quarrel, Liu Ping thought to himself. But aloud, he dared not say so—provoking her brought no benefit—so he begged, “I won’t say it again. Hurry and wash up.”
“I’ve already washed up—do you need to tell me?”
“You really are like a schoolchild!”
“What’s a schoolchild? Someone very young?” Zhu Yingtai frowned; from Liu Ping’s tone, it didn’t sound like a compliment.
Liu Ping wisely said no more. Soon he finished washing, dressed neatly, and together they set out.
On the way, they grabbed breakfast from a street vendor—a stall selling plump, meat-filled wontons. The price was a few coins higher than usual, but the portions were generous; in truth, it was only a few coins more, and whether it was a bargain or not didn’t matter to the three scholars.
The cook was an old man in his fifties, accompanied by a little girl who squatted on the ground, playing with mud.
The wontons tasted decent, but seeing the old man’s anxious demeanor, Liu Ping’s heart softened. Life was hard for those at the bottom of society.
When he first arrived in this world, it all felt surreal, as if everyone was an enemy. That was just sentimentality; even in peaceful times, those at the bottom suffered. If chaos reigned, if parents exchanged children for food, how much greater the misery?
It truly echoed that saying: “When prosperity comes, the people suffer; when ruin falls, the people suffer.”
Nearby, farmers sold flowers, making a living from their blooms. During the Flower Festival, they earned a fortune every year, so each shouted with all their strength, faces flushed, many even arguing with one another.

The streets were already crowded, bustling with people who spent freely, pointing and buying without haggling—generous and cheerful, filling the farmers’ faces with smiles.
This many people so early in the morning—one could imagine the excitement of the Flower Festival.
After finishing the wontons, they didn’t hurry to the countryside, but strolled among the flower vendors.
The street was lined on both sides with flower stalls, scents mingling in the air—a blend of fragrances, pleasantly intoxicating.
Many people browsed. The three scholars in their blue robes didn’t draw much attention; the farmers merely glanced at them respectfully.
The varieties of flowers were many: graceful and elegant ones—camellia, narcissus, spring seekers; fragrant and captivating—peach, pear, lilac, crabapple; splendid and luxurious—peony, peony rose, poppy.
“Look, those wisteria blossoms are gorgeous—makes one want to buy them, right, Fenchang?” Zhu Yingtai said, pulling at Liu Ping’s hand with a smile.
Liu Ping looked over—the wisteria was indeed beautiful. He smiled, “If you want some, buy them. Our dorm’s decorations are too dull. These flowers would be lovely touches.”
“But we’re out for a walk, just browsing. If we buy flowers, where will we put them? Should we go back first? That seems inconvenient,” Zhu Yingtai frowned.
“What’s inconvenient about it?” Liu Ping laughed, unconcerned.
“Brother Zhu, if you want them, just buy them. Liu has agreed—what are you worried about?” Zhou Yu chimed in.
The flower vendor eagerly called out, “Master scholar, these fine wisteria are beautiful—perfect for decoration—just fifteen coins. Why hesitate?”
Zhu Yingtai nodded, “Alright, I’ll take two.”
The farmer grinned, “Great, I’ll wrap them nicely for you. Need more? Look at these—peach, pear, peony, pansies, daisies, marigolds, pinks, magnolia—everything you could want, all cheap, fifteen coins. Freshly picked, exceptionally fragrant…”
“I’ll look a bit more,” Zhu Yingtai replied coolly, tossing over a piece of silver, and browsed the other varieties, frowning in thought over what else to buy. Unable to decide, she asked, “Fenchang, what do you think?”
“Choose whatever you like. I’ll look, too,” Liu Ping answered, examining the flowers. He hadn’t visited the temple in ten days, busy with studies, but now, with the holiday, he should go—especially after the offenses of the past days, he needed to offer apologies.
The wildflowers of the miniature world had their own charm, but none matched the breathtaking beauty of these carefully cultivated blooms.
As he searched, he discovered tulips—his eyes lit up as he studied them closely.
The farmer noticed and said with a smile, “Master scholar, you have a keen eye. These are tulips, introduced from foreign lands some years ago, but mostly grown in the north and beyond the frontier. Rare in the south. Mine are almost unique here.”
Liu Ping, uninterested in chatter, asked, “How much for each?”

The vendor quickly replied, “Fifty coins each. It’s pricey, but worth it because…”
Liu Ping glanced at the stall and interrupted, “I’ll take all these dozens.”
The farmer was overjoyed. “Wonderful, master scholar! Let me count—sixty in total, three strings of coins.”
A string was a thousand coins, that is, an ounce of silver. Pricey, but fair for these flowers.
He tossed the farmer three ounces of silver, took the large bouquet, inhaled the scent—it was indeed lovely.
Turning, he found Zhu Yingtai approaching, carrying pots of various flowers. Liu Ping laughed, “Jie Zhi, just hire a porter. Don’t tire yourself out.”
“No need—I’ve practiced martial arts. A porter wouldn’t be as quick. What, Fenchang, do you want me to carry yours?” Zhu Yingtai smiled.
Liu Ping, sweating, replied, “No, I’ll carry my own.”
“Hey, Fenchang, what kind of flowers did you buy?” Zhu Yingtai asked, curious.
“These are tulips, northern and frontier flowers, said to be imported.”
“I see. Let’s hurry back and put them away, then go for our walk.”
After placing the flowers and decorating, Zhu Yingtai was in high spirits. She laughed, “After our walk and flower viewing, there’s the temple fair tonight—first the fragrance of flowers, then flower cakes, then performances for the gods. Wonderful!—Hmm? Zhou, where’s Fenchang?”
Zhou Yu replied, “You’re too absorbed in your own joy. Didn’t you hear Liu say he’s taking the tulips to someone? He’ll be back soon.”
Hearing this, Zhu Yingtai was taken aback, “Taking them to someone? Could it be Fenchang has his eye on some young lady?”
“Who knows? Let’s ask him when he returns!” Zhou Yu laughed.
“Of course, we must ask.” Zhu Yingtai smiled, but for some reason, there was a hint of unease in her smile.
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Thanks to GOD Yue for the continuous rewards, becoming the book’s first steward. Tomorrow I’ll write more in celebration (at least 7000 words).