While Song Qing dedicated himself to nurturing his growing collection of immortal herbs, he made sure to regularly visit his dear teacher, Bibi Dong. He knew how much she had worried during his coma, and he cherished the bond they shared.
Every time Song Qing entered her chambers, Bibi Dong's face would light up with a genuine, happy smile. Her eyes, usually holding a hint of coldness, would soften with warmth. She truly loved his visits, often pulling him into a tight embrace, burying her face in his hair, as if trying to recapture the three years they had lost.
"Qing'er, you're looking much better," she would often say, her voice filled with affection. "Are you feeling stronger?"
"Yes, Teacher, much stronger," Song Qing would reply, returning her embrace. "The garden is thriving, and I'm feeling more like myself every day."
They would talk about various things – the happenings within the Spirit Hall, her concerns about the other continents, and even just trivial matters. Song Qing, despite his young age, often offered insightful perspectives.
"Teacher," he said one afternoon, as they sat together, sipping tea, "I think it's time for the Spirit Hall to subtly shift its focus regarding the Clear Sky Clan and Tang Hao."
Bibi Dong raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what do you suggest, Qing'er?"
"I think we should slowly cease our active pursuit," Song Qing explained. "It's been three years, and they've vanished without a trace. Continuing to dedicate so much manpower and resources to finding them is simply wasteful. It's also distracting us from more important matters."
Bibi Dong considered his words. "You might be right, Qing'er. It has been a long and fruitless search."
"Exactly," Song Qing continued. "And while I'm grateful for the Spirit Hall's efforts in helping support-type Spirit Masters, especially healers, I think we can also start to scale that back now that I'm healed. We can maintain the illusion of still hiring waves of healers, inviting them to the Spirit Hall to keep up appearances that I'm still recovering, but the large-scale assistance with high-aged soul rings… we can gradually stop that."
Bibi Dong nodded slowly. "That makes sense, Qing'er. We achieved our goal. The number of skilled healers has indeed increased significantly."
"Precisely," Song Qing affirmed. "We can't keep providing such immense resources indefinitely. It's time to consolidate our gains and focus on other areas."
After his visits with Bibi Dong, Song Qing would often return to his herbal garden, where he was rarely alone for long. Zhu Zhuqing made it a point to visit him during every mealtime. She would often bring his food herself, personally feeding him with a gentle and caring touch.
"Are you feeling strong enough for this, Qing?" she would ask, offering him a bite of a specially prepared dish.
"Of course, Zhuqing," Song Qing would reply, a warm feeling spreading through him at her attentiveness. "Everything tastes so much better when you feed it to me."
During these visits, Zhu Zhuqing would often encourage him to rest, even if he wasn't feeling particularly tired. She would gently coax him to lay his head on her lap, her slender fingers softly caressing his face and hair.
Each time she did this, Song Qing couldn't help but feel a wave of shyness wash over him. Zhu Zhuqing was no longer the small, timid girl he had first met. She had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, her body possessing a mature and alluring figure that his own adolescent body couldn't help but react to. He would often find himself stealing glances upwards, his eyes inadvertently lingering on the gentle curves of her chest.
Zhu Zhuqing, with her keen senses, would often notice his subtle glances. A playful smirk would tug at the corner of her lips. "Qing," she would whisper teasingly, her voice soft and intimate, "you can touch me wherever you want, you know."
Her words would send a fresh wave of fluster through Song Qing. His face would flush crimson, and he would quickly avert his gaze, stammering out some incoherent reply. Zhu Zhuqing would just giggle softly, enjoying his shy reactions. Only she knew that her offer was genuine. Ever since he had saved her from the clutches of her own family three years ago, her heart belonged to him entirely. She would do anything to please him, wanting to be the kind of woman he could always rely on.
Hu Liena was another regular visitor to Song Qing's herbal garden, though her visits were less predictable than Zhu Zhuqing's. Her senior sisterly affection for him was evident in every interaction.
During her first visit after her seclusion, Hu Liena's eyes had widened in amazement as she surveyed the thriving garden. "Little Qing, your herbs are truly miraculous!" she had exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "I followed your instructions, and the Bewitching Demon Orchid and the Seven Star Anise worked wonders! My spirit… it evolved! I'm now a Seven-Tailed Sinful Fox!"
"That's fantastic, Senior Sister!" Song Qing had replied, genuinely happy for her.
"And my soul power… it's already at Level 39!" Hu Liena continued, her smile radiant. "Thank you so much, Little Qing. You have no idea how much this means to me."
But as time went on, and Hu Liena became more comfortable around a fully recovered Song Qing, her playful nature began to surface. Her teasing was different from Zhu Zhuqing's – it was bolder, more flirtatious, and she seemed to enjoy pushing his boundaries.
She would often lean in close, her ample breasts brushing against his arm as she pointed out a particular herb. "Little Qing, tell me about this one," she'd say, her voice a soft, sultry whisper, her brown eyes sparkling with mischief.
Sometimes, she would even take his hand and deliberately place it on her chest, her touch lingering for a moment. A soft, shameful moan would escape her lips, a clear attempt to tease and charm him. Song Qing would invariably become flustered, his face turning red, but he couldn't deny that her visits were always entertaining, and he found himself looking forward to them, despite the occasional awkwardness.
"Senior Sister Liena!" he'd exclaim, pulling his hand away quickly, his heart pounding. "Please don't do that!"
Hu Liena would just laugh, her blonde hair swaying. "Do what, Little Qing? I just wanted to show you how much stronger I've become." Her eyes would twinkle with amusement, leaving Song Qing both embarrassed and slightly intrigued. He knew her intentions were playful, but there was an undeniable undercurrent of flirtation in her actions.
~~
Among his occasional visitors, who would drop by once or twice a week, Ning Rongrong was undoubtedly the most frequent. True to her nature, she made it a point to visit Song Qing twice every week, her presence announcing itself with a cheerful and somewhat imperious tone.
"Qing! I'm here to check on you!" she'd declare, stepping into the herbal garden as if it were her own personal playground.
Song Qing couldn't help but smile at her. She was indeed a unique individual – kind-hearted in her own way, but with a noticeable streak of selfish pride, a trait that only made her seem even more like a cute, pampered princess. And despite knowing that her sweetness was likely reserved only for him, while she might act quite differently towards other children, Song Qing still enjoyed the special treatment.
"Rongrong, it's good to see you," he'd reply, putting down his gardening tools. "How are things at the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan?"
"Oh, you know, the usual," she'd say with a dismissive wave of her hand, though her eyes sparkled with a hint of pride. "Father is busy with clan matters, and Grandpa Bone and Grandpa Sword are as overprotective as ever." She'd then pout slightly. "I wanted to stay here at the Spirit Hall, you know, so I could visit you every day, maybe even live here! But they absolutely refused. Said it wasn't 'proper'."
Song Qing chuckled softly. "Well, I appreciate your concern, Rongrong, but you should be with your family."
Unlike the teasing he received from Zhu Zhuqing and his Senior Sister Liena, his meetings with Ning Rongrong were generally filled with lighthearted fun. She would flit around the garden, pointing out different herbs and asking him about their properties. She'd tell him amusing anecdotes about incidents within her clan, often exaggerating her own role in them. She'd proudly show off any new spiritual tools she had acquired, sometimes even gifting him a few smaller, intricately crafted trinkets.
"Look, Qing! Father got me this new bracelet. It can store twice as much soul power as my old one!" she'd exclaim, holding out a delicate, jade-colored bracelet. "Here, I got you this little bell. It's supposed to ward off evil spirits. Not that you need it, but it looks cute, right?"
But beneath the playful exterior, there were moments when Ning Rongrong's true feelings would surface, often in unexpected ways.
One afternoon, during one of her visits, she casually mentioned, "You know, Qing, I've started drinking a lot more milk lately."
Song Qing tilted his head, genuinely confused. "Milk? Why?"
Rongrong huffed, rolling her cyan eyes. "Honestly, Qing, sometimes you can be so dense! It's to… you know… become a bit larger!"
Song Qing's confusion only deepened. "Larger? What do you mean?"
Rongrong sighed dramatically. "Honestly! Have you not noticed how… well-developed Zhuqing is?" She then leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I saw you looking, you know."
Song Qing's face flushed crimson. He was completely caught off guard by her directness. He stammered for a moment, unsure of how to respond, and finally just let out a nervous laugh.
Rongrong's expression turned serious, her usual playful demeanor replaced by a determined look. "I want you to pay more attention to me when my chest grows bigger, Qing. When I catch up to Zhuqing." She then leaned even closer, her breath tickling his ear as she whispered, "And when that happens… I wouldn't mind letting you touch them, you know. Or… if you don't want to touch there… is there somewhere else you'd rather touch?"
Song Qing was utterly speechless, his mind completely blank. He had no idea how to respond to such a bold and unexpected proposition from the young heiress. He just continued to laugh nervously, his face burning.
Rongrong, seeing his reaction, giggled, her playful nature returning. "You're so easy to tease, Qing!" But there was a hint of seriousness beneath her laughter, a genuine desire for his attention and affection.
Besides her teasing words, Ning Rongrong also had a peculiar habit of trying to kiss Song Qing. She would often come up with strange and flimsy excuses to lean in and plant a quick kiss on his cheek or forehead.
"Oops! There was a bug on your face!" she'd say, quickly pecking his cheek before he could react. Or, "You looked a little sad, Qing. Here's a kiss to cheer you up!" she'd declare, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. These unexpected displays of affection, while sometimes embarrassing for Song Qing, were also oddly endearing.
As for Ye Lingling and Dugu Yan, their visits were less frequent, usually once a week. They were both diligently training at the Heaven Dou Imperial Academy with their comrades. Their interactions with Song Qing were more straightforward, filled with genuine concern for his well-being and updates on their training progress.
"It's good to see you looking so healthy, Qing," Ye Lingling would say, her gentle smile radiating warmth.
"Yeah, don't go falling asleep on us again, Little Qing," Dugu Yan would add, though her tone held a hint of genuine affection beneath her usual teasing.
Then, one month after Song Qing's awakening, as he was tending to his flourishing immortal herbs, he sensed a presence approaching his garden. It was a powerful, yet familiar aura. He looked up, a flicker of surprise in his eyes as he saw the beautiful Qian Renxue standing at the entrance.
"Your Highness," Song Qing said respectfully, giving her permission to enter with a nod.
Unlike his friends, his interactions with Qian Renxue had been rare. From the time he joined the Spirit Hall at the age of six until he fell into a coma at eight, he had only met her around eight times. And each of those encounters had been marked by a cold, resentful glare from her.
But this time, as Qian Renxue stepped into the garden, Song Qing was genuinely startled. Her expression was different. There was no anger, no resentment. Instead, he saw a complex mix of emotions in her golden eyes – hope, expectation, and… a hint of jealousy? He couldn't quite decipher it, but he knew this visit was going to be unlike any of their previous encounters.