“Everything else is nearly done. Only the Pine Garden and Moonlit Terrace haven’t been started yet. The workers haven’t had a break in days, and they simply can’t finish it in time. And with the New Year approaching, we can’t keep them here indefinitely, hammering away and disturbing your peace during the festivities,” answered another voice, likely the foreman. He deliberately lowered his voice, chuckling obsequiously. “I hope you can put in a good word for us with Young Master Duan. If he could grant us an extension of two more months, we’ll have everything completed by February after the New Year.”
“I’ll try. You should push your side to work faster as well.”
The steward’s tone softened—it seemed he had been bribed.
So that was the reason.
The estate’s construction was simply too grand to be completed before the year’s end.
Hong Ning mused over this, and suddenly, Xiao Yun’s words came back to her—the garden that was to be cleared in the spring to make way for Moonlit Terrace.
She felt a jolt of awareness.
The flower garden sat in a corner of the estate, nestled against the mountain. It was quite simple, its low walls already missing a section. Since it was winter, most of the flowers had withered, their branches bare and lifeless.
Yet among them, a single plum tree stood in full bloom, its fragrance drifting through the air.
Nearby, at the foot of the slope, was a cluster of lush green leaves, creating a striking contrast against the sparse blossoms of the winter plum—vibrant and full of life.
A cluster of camellias, thriving in abundance.
Hong Ning loved camellias—especially red camellias.
Not for any profound reason, but simply because she felt that the way they bloomed suited her temperament—strong, beautiful, and resilient, unafraid of the cold.
It was within a camellia grove that she had collapsed all those years ago.
And from there, Jin Xiu had brought her into this world.
“Reckless and defiant—only the red camellia could match such a temperament.”
For some reason, Hong Ning suddenly recalled his words and couldn't help but smile bitterly. Clearly, she had misunderstood back then—mistakenly assuming that the dignified Zhong Tian King was a camellia spirit, indulging in her own wishful thinking. Yet, in truth, he had only been comparing her to the flower, with no deeper meaning behind it.
She suddenly thought of the little demon from her dream.
A spirit of the flora clan… Could it have been related to her past life? A red camellia?
Hong Ning gazed at the flowers in a daze for a long while before shaking her head.
Her past life was already gone.
Now, she was a mortal, not a little demon. Even if she knew the truth, what difference would it make? She didn’t need to know.
Her curiosity faded. She ran her fingers over the sturdy leaves, thinking about the fate of this garden. A wave of melancholy washed over her, and half-jokingly, she whispered, “So what will you do? Should I move you somewhere else, or will you leave it to fate?”
As if understanding her words, the camellia’s branches trembled slightly in the wind.
But I wouldn’t know where to take you, either.
After a long silence, Hong Ning stood up.
I can’t even control my own fate—how could I possibly save yours?
Suddenly, she no longer felt like walking any further.
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