Sheng Yu accepted at once, delighted. “Of course. It would be my honor.”
Qin Sang said, “I’ll send you the restaurant address. President Sheng can head over first—I’ll close the shop and meet you there.”
As she spoke, she opened her handbag and checked her cards. Luckily, the bank card Sheng Yu had given her was still inside.
She picked up her phone to send him the address, only to hear Sheng Yu say—
“I’ll come get you. We’ll go together.”
Qin Sang refused immediately. “No need—”
“I’m already at your door,” Sheng Yu cut in.
Startled, Qin Sang hurried toward the entrance. Sure enough, she saw a man turning to come inside.
But it wasn’t Sheng Yu.
It was Pei Zhiyu.
“Zhiyu,” Qin Sang called out, surprised.
Seeing her carrying her handbag, clearly about to head out, Pei Zhiyu asked, “Going somewhere?”
“Yes,” Qin Sang replied. “Out to eat.”
Pei Zhiyu immediately smiled and lifted the insulated container in his hand. “Perfect timing. I brought food—was worried you might’ve already eaten.”
Qin Sang was just about to decline apologetically when a low, cold male voice interrupted—
“Let’s go, Sang Sang.”
The address was intimate; the tone, unmistakably displeased.
Qin Sang turned in a daze and saw Sheng Yu standing not far behind Pei Zhiyu.
She had no choice but to say to Pei Zhiyu, “Sorry, Zhiyu-ge. I already have plans. I’ll treat you next time.”
When Pei Zhiyu heard that voice, he turned at once. His gaze cut through the passing crowd and landed on Sheng Yu—the man with the unmistakable presence no one could ignore.
For a split second, the two men locked eyes.
Sheng Yu merely flicked a cold glance at Pei Zhiyu, then turned all his attention back to Qin Sang.
Pei Zhiyu recognized Sheng Yu. Not just from the news—he’d seen him once, five years ago.
A sharp sense of crisis surged within him.
Why had this man appeared beside Qin Sang again?
As Qin Sang moved to lock up the shop and head toward Sheng Yu, Pei Zhiyu thought for a moment, then said quickly, “Don’t lock the door. I’ll keep an eye on it. I’ll eat here anyway—hard to find a place on short notice.”
Afraid she might refuse, he added with a gentlemanly smile, “It’s not the first time I’ve eaten here. Who knows, maybe I’ll even help you sell a few bouquets.”
Her flower shop wasn’t unfamiliar territory to him. When Jiang Yue wasn’t working, she’d often bring food over to eat with Qin Sang. Sometimes, the three of them ate together.
“All right,” Qin Sang agreed. “Thanks for watching the shop. If anything comes up, call me.”
With that, she walked straight toward Sheng Yu under Pei Zhiyu’s gaze.
Just as she reached Sheng Yu, a little boy on a scooter suddenly rushed past. Qin Sang was about to be hit—
An arm wrapped around her waist.
Sheng Yu pulled her into his arms, avoiding the collision just in time.
Startled, pressed against his chest, Qin Sang heard his low voice above her head. “Careful.”
He released her immediately, not letting her feel the slightest discomfort.
Qin Sang looked up at him, then quickly averted her eyes. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
They got into the car. Even after it drove off, Pei Zhiyu still hadn’t turned back into the shop.
All he could see was the image of Sheng Yu’s hand around Qin Sang’s waist, pulling her into his arms.
All these years, Pei Zhiyu had stayed by Qin Sang’s side—yet he’d never been able to get that close to her.
She was always distant, maintaining a careful boundary with everyone. Often, she felt close enough to touch, yet hazy, unreachable, like mist you couldn’t quite see through.
Inside the car, though the back seat was spacious, Qin Sang felt suffocated sitting beside Sheng Yu, her heart pounding.
In the quiet cabin, Sheng Yu suddenly spoke.
“You’ve been in contact with Pei Zhiyu all along?”
“Huh?”
Nervous, Qin Sang hadn’t caught his words. She looked up at him, eyes wide and lost—like a fawn that had wandered into an unfamiliar forest.
Seeing her expression, Sheng Yu softened, the corners of his lips lifting as he repeated patiently, “You’ve been in contact with Pei Zhiyu all along?”
At the front, the driver felt a pang of bitterness.
When he’d once asked Sheng Yu to repeat himself, he’d nearly been skewered by a look. Yet with Miss Qin, it was a completely different face.
This time, Qin Sang heard clearly. “Yes. We’ve kept in touch.”
Sheng Yu’s faint smile tightened into a straight line. Qin Sang had already lowered her head again.
Looking at the top of her head, he said in a low voice, “So you only pushed me out of your life.”
There was a note of quiet desolation in his tone.
Qin Sang couldn’t help but look up again, guilt flickering in her eyes. “No…”
She added softly, “I’ve lost contact with a lot of people.”
Sheng Yu looked at her blinking, guilty eyes, his gaze narrowing. “That excuse would sound better if you just admitted it.”
Qin Sang: “……”
The restaurant Qin Sang chose was a place with strong Nancheng character.
She knew the most luxurious restaurant she could afford still wouldn’t compare to what Sheng Yu was used to, so she chose one with atmosphere and local flair.
The décor was all mountains and water—like dining in a secluded paradise.
As they walked in, someone called out to Sheng Yu.
“Hey, Third Brother.”
Sheng Yu turned to see Wen Li and her older brother, Wen Beizhuo.
Qin Sang turned as well—and instantly recognized the beautiful woman she’d seen at Sheng Yu’s villa estate in Hong Kong.
At the same time, Wen Li’s gaze locked onto Qin Sang. A flash of astonishment crossed her eyes, followed by careful scrutiny—until Wen Beizhuo took her hand and led her forward.
Wen Beizhuo stopped in front of Sheng Yu. “When did you get to Nancheng?”
“A couple of days ago,” Sheng Yu replied casually.
Wen Beizhuo glanced at Qin Sang and smiled at Sheng Yu. “Aren’t you going to introduce her?”
Qin Sang stepped forward gracefully. “Hello, my name is Qin Sang. I’m President Sheng’s…”
She paused for a fraction of a second, then continued, “…an old friend.”
Sheng Yu hadn’t expected anything more. His expression didn’t change.
It was Wen Li, who hadn’t spoken yet, who asked in surprise, “Qin Sang?”
She tilted her head. “Qin Sang as in ‘Qin Sang lowers its green branches’?”
Qin Sang smiled calmly. “Yes. Those two characters.”
Understanding dawned on Wen Li’s face. She turned to Sheng Yu with a knowing grin. “So that’s why you named your businesses ‘Green Branch.’ I always wondered.”
She smiled freely, but couldn’t quite hide the envy and bitterness in her eyes.
Yan grass grows like green silk; Qin Sang lowers its green branches.
A line steeped in endless longing.
Green Branch?
Qin Sang suddenly remembered Hong Kong’s most upscale mall—Green Branch Plaza.
Back then, riding in Sheng Yu’s car, she’d mentioned it offhand. She’d never imagined it was his property.
Her heart sank heavily, followed by a pressure she could barely bear.
She felt like a blade of grass about to wither on a barren mountain, suddenly enveloped by boundless warmth.
Healing—yet frightening in its intensity.
She couldn’t keep draining him like this. She needed to make things clear.
They sat by the window, in a private booth overlooking a beautiful view.
They ordered their food.
Dish after dish was served.
Qin Sang pointed to the restaurant’s signature dish. “This is their specialty. Try it.”
Across from her, Sheng Yu shifted his gaze from her face to the dish—but didn’t pick up his chopsticks.
Noticing this, Qin Sang blinked unconsciously, then reached out and placed some food onto his plate. “Try it, President Sheng.”
Only then did Sheng Yu take a bite. He smiled. “It’s good. So good I’ll want to come back with you tomorrow.”
Qin Sang’s hand paused midair, then continued placing food on his plate. She composed herself, smiled faintly, and didn’t follow his lead. Instead, she asked,
“My friend Jiang Yue got a role this morning. Was that arranged by you?”
Sheng Yu didn’t deny it. “She’s your friend. I know she matters to you. It was nothing.”
Qin Sang’s grip on her chopsticks tightened.
So it really was him.
Sheng Yu changed the subject. “What about you? Didn’t you want to be a teacher like your parents? Why open a flower shop?”
“Running my own shop gives me more freedom.”
She set down her chopsticks, then looked at him seriously—meeting his eyes without avoiding them. Her brows knitted slightly as she called his name.
“Sheng Yu.”
She continued, “Don’t do anything for me anymore. I can’t give you anything in return.”
He cut in sharply. “Did I ask for anything back?”
“Then why are you doing all this?” she shot back.
“I want you to come back,” he said. “Come back to my side.”
Qin Sang’s heart trembled. She forced her voice steady. “We can’t go back.”
Then, cruelly, she repeated it. “Sheng Yu, we can’t go back.”
She pressed on, all in one breath.
“You’re not who you were back then, and I’m not who I was. Now you stand high above, in the public eye. I don’t want a day to come when everything about me is scrutinized—or judged—because of you. And I don’t want to be pushed onto a spotlight because of you either, to be pointed at and discussed. I don’t have grand ambitions. I just want to live quietly, guarding my little flower shop for the rest of my life. I don’t want to chase anyone’s footsteps, and I don’t want anyone to stop for me. It would pressure me. It would make me unhappy…”
Sheng Yu let out a cold laugh—bitter, thin, unwilling.
“So this is you rejecting me completely, Qin Sang?” He laughed softly, his gaze carving into her. “What were you doing before, then?”
Darkness crept into his eyes. “Why didn’t you reject me when we met again? You threw me a spark, let me burn—then, just like five years ago, you dumped me back into ice and snow.”
“Qin Sang.” His eyes were like a torn abyss, every word edged with pain. “Do you have to destroy me before you’ll be satisfied?”