Osmanthus Blossoms

Mid-Autumn was rainy.

This Mid-Autumn Festival lacked both the melancholy of past years and any romance beneath the moon and flowers.

The unending rain had swollen the River Water, weighing heavily on everyone's hearts. The Western Teachings were also watching. Unlike the rain and rampaging flood peaks of previous years, if that White Jiao and the Pure Yang sect had made preparations, they should have erupted at this moment, using the favorable weather and terrain to throw Suzhou and Hangzhou into chaos. They might even use the floodwaters to inundate Golden Mountain and deal the Western Teachings a crippling blow.

As time passed, they gradually set their minds completely at ease. Once she had drunk that wine, she could not escape this tribulation—yet they still remained cautious.

All cultivators knew that the White Jiao had once said something.

Amid torrential rain and floodwaters, she was a god...

Perhaps low-level cultivators dismissed it, believing humanity to be the spirit of all things, favored by Heaven and Earth. Who in this world dared call themselves a god? There were plenty of cultivators skilled in controlling water, yet none had ever boasted so shamelessly.

High-level cultivators, however, knew the White Jiao had not exaggerated. Amid wind, rain, and floods, a jiao was nearly invincible. Even with lower cultivation, she could unleash terrifying power. Back when she had merely been a snake demon at the Demon Core Stage, she had dared batter people with clouds and rain filling the sky. It was said that Dragon Gate Desert had once suffered an inexplicable sandstorm, leaving the Black Jiuli tribe badly battered.

This downpour was the White Jiao's best, and only, chance.

Yet a certain jiao continued selling paintings and umbrellas, staring blankly into space, eating and drinking all day...

Osmanthus fragrance chilled in the rain.