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Summary
A call of the wind, and in one blink, Zhou Zishu blooms a human body—legs and arms sprouting, thick ebony hair cascading past the line of his spine, his delicate petals making way for a face as cold as the ruthless northern mountains. He gathers what foliage he can and drapes it over his form, a robe just enough to cover his glowing skin.
The man is holding out a palm to drink the water in the river when Zhou Zishu bats his hand away with a rope of wind, causing him to fall on his back in the mud with a startled gasp.
“What…” The man splutters, reaching immediately for his sword. “How did you…”
"You can not drink this water," Zhou Zishu says. "Or else you will die..."
Or — on a sunny day a flower spirit saves a human, or so he believes.
Series
- Part 1 of at the imperial palace