Lin Manman stood there with her mouth wide open, looking between Wen Xi and Landlord Sun, unable to close it for a long time.
She had bargained for so long and only managed to lower the rent to 24,000, while Wen Xi, with just a few words, secured a half-month rent-free period.
“When did you learn how to negotiate?”
After they walked out of the shop, Lin Manman grabbed Wen Xi’s sleeve in disbelief.
Wen Xi smiled.
In truth, she did not know how to negotiate. She had simply calculated everything carefully—how much money she had, where her limits were—and then stated it clearly.
Perhaps it was because she now had money in her hands; that confidence naturally changed the way she spoke.
She was no longer the timid Wen Xi who was afraid of everything.
“Let’s go,” she tugged at Lin Manman’s sleeve. “I’ll treat you to coffee. A celebration.”
The two of them sat in a corner café on the street, sunlight pouring through the glass window and falling onto their small round table.
Holding her coffee cup, Lin Manman’s eyes were bright as she excitedly planned the future of the flower shop.
“Wen Xi, what should we name our shop?” she tilted her head. “Flowers Between Moments? Flower Time? Manman Flower Shop?”
“Easily,” Wen Xi said.
Lin Manman froze slightly.
“Easily Flower Shop.”
Wen Xi repeated it softly.
“It comes from the phrase ‘one easily recognizes the face of spring—thousands of purples and reds always make spring.’”
“It also comes from the meaning of ‘an ordinary person.’ We are just ordinary people, but ordinary people can still live beautiful lives.”
Lin Manman looked at her for several seconds.
Her eyes were still as clean as before, but there was something in them that Lin Manman could not quite describe.
“Sounds nice.”
Lin Manman lowered her head and took a sip of coffee.
“Then it’s decided—Easily Flower Shop! I’ll find someone to make the sign tomorrow!”
They stayed in the café until the sky darkened.
They talked about interior design, flower suppliers, online marketing plans, and opening promotions.
Wen Xi opened her notebook and recorded everything line by line. Her handwriting was messy, but every word was written seriously.
Lin Manman glanced at her notebook and saw the title page neatly written with four characters: “Easily Flower Shop,” beside a small, crooked doodle of a flower.
“You drew that?”
“Mm.”
“It’s ugly.”
“…I know.”
They looked at each other and laughed at the same time. Even the waiter smiled as he watched them.
When paying, Wen Xi insisted on paying. Two coffees—fifty-eight yuan.
Before, she would have felt pain at spending that money. It was enough for several meals.
But now, she paid calmly, scanning the code without hesitation.
As they walked out of the café, Lin Manman suddenly grabbed her arm.
“Wen Xi.”
“Mm?”
“You’ve become a different person.”
Wen Xi paused slightly. “Have I?”
“Yes.”
Lin Manman looked at her seriously.
“Before, you always walked with your head down. Your voice was so soft, like you were afraid of disturbing anyone. You always checked prices first when buying things—you wouldn’t even dare look at expensive ones.”
“But now—”
She paused, scanning Wen Xi up and down.
“Now you walk with your head up. You look people in the eyes when you speak. When you negotiated rent with Mr. Sun just now, you weren’t nervous at all.”
“You’ve become confident.”
Wen Xi fell silent.
Had she changed?
She did not know.
She only knew that the things that once weighed her down—debt, poverty, desperation—were no longer pressing on her shoulders.
Not because she had money, but because she was no longer carrying everything alone.
Her mother was well cared for at the Rehabilitation & Wellness Center. The loan sharks would not come again. She had a place to stay and savings that allowed her to start over.
Even if that money came with a secret she could not speak of.
“Let’s go,” Wen Xi said with a smile, avoiding the topic. “We still need to wake up early tomorrow.”
They parted at the intersection.
Lin Manman took the bus home, while Wen Xi waited by the roadside for Old Zhou’s car.
She watched Lin Manman’s figure disappear at the bus stop, then turned and glanced toward Fu Group Corporation.
The gray-blue building stood illuminated in the night like a silent fortress.
She did not know whether Fu Linfeng was inside, or when he would return home.
She only knew that starting tomorrow, she had something of her own to do.
Not as Fu Linfeng’s wife.
Not as the woman in a contract marriage.
But as a partner of “Easily Flower Shop.”
It was hers.
The car arrived, and Old Zhou opened the door for her.
Wen Xi bent down and got in, holding her notebook tightly in her arms.
“Miss Wen, you seem in a good mood today?”
Old Zhou glanced at her through the rearview mirror, unusually speaking beyond work matters.
“Mm,” she smiled. “I am.”
The next half month passed in a steady rhythm.
Every morning, Old Zhou’s car was already waiting. She got into the back seat and said softly, “Flower shop,” and the car would quietly leave the villa area and take her to the familiar street corner.
“Miss Wen, what time should I pick you up this afternoon?” Old Zhou asked every time.
“No need,” she smiled. “I’ll go back myself today.”
Old Zhou looked like he wanted to say something but ultimately just nodded.
After returning, he would message Chen Mo as usual:
“Madam does not need pickup today.”
Chen Mo would reply with a simple “understood,” then continue working expressionlessly.
This exchange had repeated countless times over the past half month.
Wen Xi did not want a car pickup.
The reason was simple—it was too conspicuous.
Even the cheapest car in Fu Linfeng’s garage cost over two million yuan.
Whenever Old Zhou parked that black Mercedes business car at the street corner, passersby would always look twice.
Besides, the flower shop was not far from the villa—about ten minutes by electric scooter.
She had already calculated the route: along the riverside road, with fewer traffic lights and less traffic. Safe.
Most importantly, it was cheap and low-profile. She could leave whenever she wanted, stop whenever she wanted, without waiting for anyone or explaining anything, without stepping into a car that did not belong to her under strange looks.
She wanted to go to work like everyone else—on a small electric scooter—to the shop she built herself.
That thought made her feel grounded.
The flower shop renovation was completed on the tenth day.
White walls with soft green accents. Gray flooring polished enough to reflect light.
Custom wooden shelves lined the walls in staggered heights, waiting to be filled with flowers.
The worktable was placed at the back, neatly arranged with scissors, floral foam, wrapping paper, and twine.
The floor-to-ceiling windows at the entrance had been opened into a sunken display area. Light poured in from both sides, making the entire shop bright like a glass greenhouse.
Lin Manman stood at the entrance with her hands on her hips, looking up at the sign.
She let out a long breath.
“Finally done.”
Her voice carried exhaustion and pride at the same time.
Wen Xi stood beside her, also looking up.
The handwritten sign read: “Easily Flower Shop,” with a small chamomile illustration beside it.
“Beautiful,” Wen Xi said.
“Of course,” Lin Manman bumped her shoulder. “Who do you think picked it?”
They smiled at each other.
In the following days, they began stocking flowers.
Every day, trucks delivered fresh flowers from Kunming, which were carried into the shop in boxes.
Lin Manman selected and trimmed them. Wen Xi sorted and arranged them.
Roses were placed at the most visible spot. Lilies against the wall. Daisies and chamomile in the center. Eucalyptus and baby’s breath filled the gaps.
Wen Xi squatted on the floor, inserting chamomile stems into buckets, her movements far more practiced than half a month ago.
She learned how to cut stems at an angle, how to remove damaged petals, how to arrange flowers by height and color.
Small cuts appeared on her fingers, but she did not care.
What mattered was that this flower shop—this place built from nothing—now carried her presence in every wall, every shelf, every flower.
In the past half month, Fu Linfeng had indeed restrained himself a lot.
Wen Xi could not quite tell when that change had started