Daily life of a cultivation judge

"I was just about to come see you, fellow Daoist," Yang Qing pleasantly said as he turned to face the newcomer. Who could it have been other than the special dao lifeform, Gu Xing, the sacred flame swan.

Yang Qing couldn't help but sigh when he saw her. Whatever else, even without knowing her identity as a special dao life form, just from her appearance alone and the presence she carried, even a blind man could tell she was special. Whether it was that sacred beauty bordering on the divine, or the way her presence was both majestic and grounded, all of it combined to create an extraordinary air around her.

"Where are my flowers, fellow Daoist?" said Gu Xing with a smile as she cupped her fist and outstretched her hands.

"Yes, where are her flowers, brother Yang Qing?" chimed in Meifeng, playing the role of sidekick inciter as she threw him strange signals with her eyebrows rapidly rising and falling.

What? Yang Qing secretly asked, prompted by her not-so-subtle eye signals.

Sister Gu Xing is beautiful, right? she asked back.

She is, Yang Qing answered warily, having figured out what those odd signals from earlier were for.

"Well, master told me beautiful people like beautiful things," she replied with a snicker. "So... give her a flower," she added, her not-so-covert vibrating eyebrow signals making another appearance.

Such a meddler, Yang Qing muttered to himself with a quiet sigh. He wanted to tell her that he already had someone he gave those kinds of flowers to (though that person actually preferred jade slips full of gossip over flowers), but he decided against it. If he revealed that, Meifeng would no doubt pounce on it, press for details, and probably drag the conversation into another strange tangent. She was like a mini Mao Mao.

"Here," he said with a smile as he handed Gu Xing a single flower. It wasn't a peony like the one he had given Meifeng, but a magnolia—a dawn autumn magnolia. Its petals were a deep orange-gold, like the sun rising at dawn or the color of autumn maples.

It wasn't the spirit pearl peony, but it did not lose out, whether in presence or ability. Its fragrance was subtle yet impactful, carrying the full essence of autumn. One whiff washed away even the hidden tensions within, leaving the body in a continuous state of release, anchored by the promise of better days.

A dawn autumn magnolia was excellent for cultivating the heart and mind, and for seeking peace in turmoil. The one Yang Qing held in his hand was a low-tier monarch grade.

Even without Meifeng's attempts at playing matchmaker, he would have given the flower to Gu Xing regardless of her incitement or even Gu Xing asking for it. He owed her, not only for the hive of dream ambrosia bees, but also for the matter he had entrusted to her, to be on the lookout for any strange happenings around the Deer Mountain Range. She had also allowed him entry into its sacred tomb despite its serious restrictions against humans, and he still needed her help with his current case. And beyond debts and favors, he considered her a friend, not the kind Meifeng was not so secretly scheming about, but a friend nonetheless.

He owed her, and the dawn autumn magnolia felt like the perfect gift. He might not have known how special Dao lifeforms like her cultivated, but he did know this: everything with life had a heart, and if it had a heart, then it needed to be cultivated, especially for those striving for greater heights in cultivation.

"Thank you," said Gu Xing, her pupils lighting briefly in surprise as they fell on the flower. Earlier, she hadn't been serious and was only playing around with Yang Qing, expecting a goofy character like him to pick up on it. She hadn't thought it would actually end with her receiving an actual flower, let alone one as precious as this.

If not for the clear eyes Yang Qing showed, and the sincerity in them as he handed it over, she might have thought he was running a long con on her, or that he secretly harbored feelings for her, and her joke had simply given him the chance to act on them.

But those clear eyes showed otherwise. Looking at him, she was half tempted to tease him again and say something like, "I accept the flower and the confession. I guess we can now be considered Dao Partners, right?" She could already imagine herself playing innocent while secretly enjoying the flustered expression that would no doubt follow.

But in the end, she decided against it. Why do I always get the urge to tease him whenever I see him? she wondered, realizing how uncharacteristic she became around him. Normally, she was reserved and polite and not the schemer and teaser she turned into whenever she was with him or Meifeng. Must be his face. He definitely has that kind of face you can't help but want to tease, she thought.

"Do I have something on my face?" Yang Qing asked curiously as he touched his left cheek to check.

"No, there's nothing at all," Gu Xing replied with a polite smile.

"Okay," said Yang Qing, looking suspiciously confused at Gu Xing, whose smile felt strangely off to him. For some reason, it reminded him of those rare, unnerving smiles he sometimes got from Old Lei. Must be my imagination from not seeing him in a while, Yang Qing thought as he brushed the feeling off.

"Care to join us?" he asked Gu Xing, gesturing toward the spot where he and Meifeng had been dining.

"Sure," Gu Xing agreed.

Once there, Yang Qing poured her some of the wine from the mysterious figure and produced a few more snacks to go with it, this time adding more variety instead of just scallion pancakes and roasted nuts.

Yang Qing then introduced Wenling to her. But before he could even finish, Wenling was already halfway into a prostration. Her reaction to Gu Xing was far more severe than it had been toward Meifeng. She couldn't speak, nor even raise her head, leaving Yang Qing to finish the introductions on her behalf.

He couldn't entirely blame Wenling for her reaction. After all, though Gu Xing was a special Dao lifeform, she was still technically a spirit beast—and a spirit beast with one of the noblest bloodlines at that. If ranked, it likely wouldn't fall short of the mythical races. If that was the case, no wonder Wenling was so flustered. To spirit beasts, bloodline reigned supreme.

Given her reaction, Yang Qing now wondered if it was wise to bring her back and settle her in his abode. After all, that thing he always called the worst roommate one could ever have, though it didn't look like much, was still a bona fide mythical race. Would Wenling even be able to handle its presence, especially given its roguish character?

Yang Qing quickly pushed those thoughts aside for later.

As for Queen Lihua, immediately after greeting Gu Xing, she returned to her hive to prepare the larva queen that Yang Qing would be leaving with. The arrangements involved crafting an embryo hive, which the larva queen would eventually shape to her liking once she fully hatched and adapted to her abilities.

Other than that, she would also fill the hive with royal ambrosia jelly that the larvae would need for nourishment. Along with it, she assigned twenty members of her hive to care for the larva queen. One of the twenty was at the core formation stage, while the rest were at the foundation establishment realm. Those in qi refinement were not considered, as they would be more of a burden than a help to the larva queen.

When Queen Lihua first mentioned sending members of her hive along with the larva queen, Yang Qing had been prepared to refuse—or pull a Meifeng and haggle the numbers down. He felt that, because of how emotional she had been earlier regarding the larva queen, she might give away half her hive to make up for the guilt of nearly consuming her daughter for nourishment.

But given the number she quoted, his downward haggling wasn't needed. Whether she felt guilty or not, her actions showed she was queen of her hive before anything else. Ruthlessly and pragmatically efficient, Yang Qing thought when he considered both the numbers and the composition of those twenty.

With that matter settled, Yang Qing now had room to continue his discussion with Gu Xing.

Not one to beat around the bush, especially with those he considered friends, Yang Qing chose to be direct.

"Fellow Daoist, I need your help with something," he said as he poured himself another cup of wine, topping off Meifeng's and Gu Xing's in the process. Both nodded their thanks.

"We are not strangers. Ask ahead, fellow Daoist," said Gu Xing.

"Do you happen to be in contact with mythical races?" Yang Qing asked, his solemn yet hopeful eyes fixed on her. Meifeng flinched at the question, and so did Wenling and Haishi.

Gu Xing nodded before taking a small sip of her wine. "I do know of a few," she said as she set her wine bowl down. "Do you want to get in contact with one?"

"Not necessarily contact, but I'd like to understand their situation. Though a contact would not be bad either," Yang Qing replied.

"Which race?" Gu Xing asked curtly.

"How many do you know?" Yang Qing said, surprise and curiosity mingling in his tone.

Gu Xing laughed. "Not as many as you think. Besides, the ones I do know are not exactly my own acquaintances, but my guardian's. He is the one who is close with them."

"As for me, I was just the tag-along he introduced when visiting them. I may not be much help if the matter is serious and requires a go-between," she added with a wry smile. "But I could ask my guardian," she quickly followed.

"Thanks, Fellow Daoist," Yang Qing said. "I owe you one," he added with a smile.

"Well, I do have to pay you back for the flower you just gave me," Gu Xing said cheekily. "You still want to know the races, don't you?" she asked, shaking her head when she saw Yang Qing unabashedly nod, a sheepish smile on his face.

"Who wouldn't?"

"Fine," she said with a sigh. "The races would be—though mind you, it's not like entire races, just individuals," she warned, worried Yang Qing might think she had befriended entire races, when in truth she wasn't sure even those few individuals that she did know, even remembered her name.

"What does that matter? Whether it's one or twenty, you've still seen a mythical race," said Yang Qing enviously, as if he himself hadn't been acquainted with one—or even shared a nest and verbal spats with it. He couldn't be blamed, though. He did everything in his power to block out the celestial nesting weaver's heritage. He would rather eat those dubious crimson boars that made him pass out as a kid than consciously acknowledge that foul-mouthed, rotund bird as a mythical race. Such a thing was truly worse than spotting Lei Weiyuan's frightening shadow around a corner.

"Fine," she said with another wry smile. "The races would be: the blue fairy, a golem, a kunpeng, a dragonclam, a black tortoise—though for that one, I did see an entire tribe of them when we met one of their elders. That was also when we encountered members of another mythical race, the black yin water oak treefolk.

So all in all, six races," said Gu Xing, whose expression suddenly shifted when she noticed the wide-eyed look Yang Qing gave her.

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly.

"Black yin water oak," he asked mechanically. "You met them?!" His voice carried a faint tremor.