Lanyun found Granny Tao outside of her cabin, removing a copper tray from the half-dome earth oven. The scent of freshly baked cookies wafted over him. 

“You’ve arrived at such a convenient time,” Granny Tao said with a chuckle as she walked into the cabin with the cookies. In a large wooden bowl on the oak table in the center of the room, she arranged them neatly into the shape of a rose flower. “I made prune jam using some of the plums we harvested yesterday and baked it into cookies. Feel free to help yourself to some.”

After his unsatisfying breakfast, Lanyun gladly accepted Granny Tao’s offer. He picked up a cookie from the center of the rose. It was warm and crisp, and the sweetness of the prune jam melded perfectly with the buttery dough.

“It’s delicious,” Lanyun honestly praised. “You could make a living selling these.” He paused, remembering that she was a celestial. He wasn’t sure if that was even a career option in the celestial realm. “At least, you definitely could in the human realm.”

Granny Tao smiled at his compliments. “Bring a few with you to eat before we head out into the fields. You can have more once we return. And grab a basket as well.”

Lanyun immediately tucked two more cookies into his pocket along with one into his mouth for good measure before following Granny Tao out of the cabin. Walking in the opposite directions from the plum orchard, they arrived at an open area with multiple leafy vegetables growing from rows and rows of the dark brown dirt. Lanyun recognized a variety of kale, lettuce, and arugula amongst some greens he had never seen before. 

“We’ll start here,” Granny Tao said, squatting down beside a patch of kale. She pulled out two small knives from her wicker basket and handed one to Lanyun.

He carefully accepted the knife and squatted down opposite of her.

“Do you know how to harvest kale, or do you need me to teach you?” Granny Tao asked, raising an eyebrow as Lanyun remained still.

“I know how to,” Lanyun said. To prove his point, he cut at the base of the nearest vegetable, making sure to leave the bottom intact to ensure its regrowth. He then placed the top part into his basket.

“Good.” Granny Tao nodded in approval. “But you should always taste what you harvest. She broke off a kale leaf and placed it into her mouth. “Go on and try it for yourself.”

“Is that safe?” Lanyun questioned. “My grandmother always told me and my sister that eating any raw vegetable will make you sick.”

“That’s because you humans have sickened your rivers and springs, damaging the lands in which you harvest your food,” Granny Tao tutted. “Here, the waters have continued to run clean, and so, my plants are safe. Now eat the kale.”

Lanyun gingerly broke off a small piece of the kale he had just cut off at the base and put it into his mouth. His face scrunched at the bitter, earthy taste. “No offense, Granny Tao, but I think I still prefer it cooked.” At least then, he could hide the bitterness under the garlic, soy sauce, and pinch of sugar. 

“Well I only said that it wouldn’t make you sick, not that you would like it,” Granny Tao cackled. “I also only use natural pesticides that are perfectly safe for both celestial and human consumption. I can’t guarantee the same for dryads, unfortunately.” 

“Speaking of pesticides,” Lanyun began thoughtfully, “do you have anything that could help with fungal infections in plants? Specifically, for lotus plants?”

“You’ve been to Princess Lianbing’s sacred lotus garden?” Granny Tao looked at Lanyun in shock. “How did you gain permission? I thought she hated humans. I’ve known her for centuries, and she still hasn’t permitted me to catch even a glimpse of it.”

“I just…walked in?” Lanyun said hesitantly. 

“Is it really as beautiful as they say?” Granny Tao continued to ask excitedly. “And that there’s exactly 168 lotuses?”

“It was quite stunning,” Lanyun agreed, recalling the sight of the blooming pink flowers under the silver moonlight. “I didn’t count, so I don’t know how many there were. So do you have something that can help with their disease? Many of the leaves had these black spots on them, which I think is the result of some fungal infection.”

“Yes, I have something that should help,” Granny Tao said with a thoughtful expression. “How peculiar, though, that the lotuses should be affected by such a thing. Not to mention, you had entered the garden so easily. Princess Lianbing is well-known throughout the realm for her obsession towards her lotus garden. Perhaps, there is currently something amiss in the Winter Palace.”

“Like what?” Lanyun asked.

“I’ll have to consult with my sources first,” Granny Tao said, standing up. They had finished harvesting that row and walked over to the next. “I’ll prepare what you’ll need before you leave for today, but in exchange for my help, you must remember and tell me all about the lotus garden tomorrow.” Her brown eyes seemed to gleam at the prospect of fresh gossip. 

Lanyun could only sigh and accept his fate. “Yes, of course, Granny Tao.”

Aside from a brief break for another unfulfilling, vegetarian meal—delivered by Wuluan—consisting of a small bowl of rice with stir-fried greens, Lanyun had finished eight more hours of community service. As he returned to his room and was met with the very familiar three bowls of cornmeal congee, pickled radish, and chili oil tofu, Lanyun wanted to cry. Apathetically shoveling the food into his mouth, he became more assured in his mission. His sister loved eating meat even more than him. Crispy pork belly. Roasted quail. Lamb skewers. Her misery was undeniable in the celestial realm with their ascetic diets. 

After finishing the food, Lanyun ignored his still-hungry stomach’s complaints, and placed the tray with the empty bowls outside of his door as Riri had previously instructed. Since he had been warned twice yesterday about wandering around the Winter Palace, Lanyun decided to wait until there were less servants outside before embarking on his new mission. 

With the moon high above in the sky, Lanyun recalled his steps from the previous night as he quickly made his way through the palace grounds. He found the same moon gate, unguarded like before, and entered the lotus garden. 

The pink flowers swayed gently in the night’s wind, seeming to welcome his arrival. Basking in the tranquility of the ethereal garden, Lanyun walked along the wooden terrace path. He had thought that there were only lotus flowers in the garden, but as he approached one corner of the perimeter, he noticed a small cluster of tall flowers growing in the dirt on the other side of the pathway. There were only a handful blooming at the moment, but Lanyun immediately recognized them as his favorite flower. 

“Beautiful as always,” Lanyun said softly to the flowers, lightly touching the red feathery plumes. He was glad to see that the astilbe plants were in much healthier condition than the lotuses. His grandmother once had some astilbe in her garden when he was a child, and he remembered crying for a week when she uprooted them and replaced them with chamomile instead. Although he didn’t know why Lianbing chose to have a few astilbe flowers in the corner of her lotus garden, Lanyun was pleasantly surprised that she did.

Remembering why he had come to the garden originally, Lanyun walked up to the edge of the pond and frowned as he looked at the green leaves floating atop. More dark spots had grown since he had last seen them, and he could only hope that the medicine Granny Tao had given him would work. The fungal infection grew at a faster rate than what he was familiar with in the human realm, and he wasn’t sure how much longer the plants had left.

“You’re lucky I found you guys before it was too late,” Lanyun spoke to the flowers, gently brushing his hand against one of the smooth petals. “You must’ve been so sad being neglected like this.” 

Naturally, the flower didn’t respond, but the wind blew once more, knocking it against his palm as if it answered.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Lanyun said with a chuckle. Reaching into his pocket, he produced a drawstring, cloth pouch that Granny Tao had given him. 

According to her instructions, he merely needed to pour the entire contents into the water, and the fungicide would naturally disperse and begin fighting the infection. Lanyun opened the pouch and looked inside. It was filled with tiny white crystals, glimmering under the moonlight. Holding the pouch over the water, Lanyun turned his hand and watched the sparkling crystals fall down, creating ripples in the pond’s surface before slowly sinking towards the bottom. 

Suddenly, a hand reached out and grabbed his wrist in an iron-like grip, catching him by surprise. Feeling like his bones were being crushed, Lanyun dropped the empty pouch onto the floor of the wooden terrace. He turned towards the owner of the hand and found himself staring into Lianbing’s seething expression. 

Her ice blue eyes were wide-open in rage, and her long, dark hair framed her pale face, appearing like a ghost seeking vengeance. The wind picked up speed, blowing her attire’s blue silk ribbon violently around her slim frame. Unadulterated fury marred her delicate features and seeped into every word she uttered. 

“What are you doing to my pond?”