“Won’t, won’t!”
Behind her, Wen Xi kept assuring him, her voice full of excitement. “I’ll ride slower than a snail!”
The bathroom door closed. Water began to run.
The next morning, Wen Xi did not wait for Old Zhou’s car.
She changed into a light outfit—white T-shirt, jeans, canvas shoes—and carried a canvas bag. While she was changing shoes at the door, Butler Wang walked over and handed her an envelope.
“It was instructed by President Fu,” Butler Wang said gently, as always.
Wen Xi opened the envelope. Inside was a bank card and a note.
The handwriting was sharp and forceful:
“Buy a good one.”
Just four words.
Wen Xi stood in the entrance hall holding the card for several seconds.
She thought about returning it—she already had money and didn’t need his.
But then she decided it would feel too deliberate.
He gave it. She would take it. Whether she used it or not was her choice.
She put the card into her canvas bag, opened the door, and left.
She walked out of the iron gate, followed the road outside the villa district, and walked all the way to the nearest electric bike shop. After forty minutes of choosing, she bought a creamy-white, compact electric scooter.
A small flower sticker was already on the body. She liked it and told the owner not to remove it.
The owner installed baskets for her—one in front and one in the back, enough for flowers and tools.
She got on the new bike and slowly rode along the riverside road back.
She rode carefully, slowly. At a red light, she stopped, put one foot on the ground, and looked up at a distant gray-blue building—
Fu Group Corporation.
The building stood in the morning light like a silent giant overlooking the city.
She glanced at it, then looked away. The light turned green. She twisted the throttle and rode forward into traffic.
On the first day of “Eternal Ease Flower Shop,” she and Lin Manman worked from 7 a.m. to 2 p.m. without even drinking water.
Half an hour after opening, white-collar workers from nearby office buildings started flooding in.
Some bought opening flower baskets, some ordered flowers for meetings, some picked gifts for girlfriends, and some were simply drawn in by the sea of flowers behind the glass window.
Lin Manman handled customers at the front. Wen Xi wrapped bouquets, took payments, and restocked in the back. They were busy, chaotic, but strangely in sync.
“Wen Xi! Three more carnations!”
“Coming!”
“Wen Xi! One mixed bouquet, warm tones!”
“Right away!”
“Wen Xi! The payment QR code isn’t working!”
“Let me check!”
Wen Xi poked her head out from behind the counter. Her bangs were damp with sweat, sticking to her temples.
Her white T-shirt had petals and a streak of green plant juice on it. Even her shoelaces had a bit of twine tangled in them.
She looked completely disheveled—but her eyes shone like stars.
Lin Manman wasn’t doing much better.
Her bun had already fallen halfway apart. Her apron was covered in dirt and water stains. Her voice was twice as loud as usual, but she never stopped smiling.
Around eleven, the shop finally quieted down for a moment.
Lin Manman collapsed into a chair, drinking water in big gulps, while Wen Xi leaned against the counter, counting the morning revenue.
“How much? How much?” Lin Manman leaned over, eyes sparkling.
“Not finished yet… don’t rush…”
Wen Xi’s fingers moved quickly over the calculator. When the last digit appeared, she paused.
“How much?” Lin Manman asked again.
Wen Xi looked up, a slow smile forming. “Four thousand two.”
“WHAT?!”
Lin Manman shot up from the chair and hugged her. “Four thousand two in one morning?!”
“Mm!”
Wen Xi could barely breathe from the squeeze, but her eyes curved into crescents. “At this rate, we might hit eight thousand today.”
“My god, my god—”
Lin Manman spun in place, covering her face, her voice muffled through her fingers.
“You know? My old shop only made one thousand eight on its opening day. I had to drag all my relatives to support me!”
Wen Xi’s nose stung a little, but she just smiled and patted her shoulder. “Alright, alright. Stop getting emotional. We still have the afternoon.”
Just then, her phone rang.
An online order notification.
“Fu Group Corporation, 17th floor, one champagne rose bouquet, mixed style, marked ‘elegant, for gifting.’”
Lin Manman raised her eyebrows. “This one’s not cheap. Delivery alone is over three hundred. People at Fu Group really have money.”
When Wen Xi saw the address, her heart skipped.
Fu Group Corporation. 17th floor.
“Go deliver it,” Lin Manman said, forwarding the order to her.
“You said your husband works there, right? Maybe you’ll run into him.”
Wen Xi’s fingers froze slightly.
“I—”
She wanted to refuse. She wanted to say the shop was busy. That delivery could handle it. Anything.
But Lin Manman had already turned back to the flowers.
So Wen Xi swallowed the words.
“I’ll go,” she said calmly.
She placed the bouquet carefully in the rear basket of her electric bike and rode toward Fu Group Corporation.
From the shop, it took only three minutes.
She had never felt three minutes so short.
She parked in the designated area, picked up the bouquet, and looked up at the towering gray-blue glass building.
This was the second time she had been here.
The first time, she had been in a faded dress, taken through the back entrance, riding a freight elevator, surrounded by well-dressed women like a misplaced Cinderella.
Today, she entered through the front door.
She took a deep breath and walked inside.
The lobby was larger and more imposing than she imagined.
A soaring ceiling, polished marble floors, and the words “Fu Group Corporation” in metallic letters behind the reception desk.
She lowered her head and walked quickly, searching for the elevators.
She did not want to stop. Did not want attention. Did not want to register anything.
Just deliver the flowers and leave.
The elevators were at the far end.
She quickened her pace—and then turned the corner.
A group of people was entering one of the elevators.
At the front stood a man in a dark suit, speaking to someone beside him.
“Wait—!”
Holding the bouquet tightly, Wen Xi jogged forward and slipped into the elevator just before the doors closed.