Mo Yuzhen stood outside Tang Xiyu's apartment, his fingers tightening slightly around the bouquet he held.
The lilies were fresh, pale, and carefully arranged—each petal pristine and elegant. Earlier, he had considered roses. They were the universal symbol of love, after all.
But the thought had left him strangely dissatisfied. He had given roses to too many women in the past, handed them out so casually that the gesture had long since lost its meaning.
Tang Xiyu deserved something different.
Something pure. Something rare.
Lilies reminded him of her—fresh, gentle, and quietly captivating.
Taking a slow breath, Mo Yuzhen rang the doorbell. Almost instantly, his heartbeat quickened. He straightened unconsciously, anticipation mixing with unease as he waited. His mind raced with possibilities.
Would she be surprised? Would she smile when she saw him? Would she even let him in?
