The morning air in Shanghai carried the faint scent of rain, soft and lingering over Jade Street. Lian Hua had just opened her shop when she noticed a small package resting on the counter, neatly wrapped in crimson paper with a golden ribbon.
No note. No explanation. Just a bouquet of rare red lotuses, their petals perfect, almost glowing under the sunlight.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Before she could lift the flowers, the familiar deep voice called out.
"You'll want to keep them safe," Zhen Wei said, stepping into the shop as if he had appeared from nowhere. He leaned casually against the doorframe, eyes sweeping over her with that unnerving intensity.
Lian Hua blinked. "You… you didn't have to do this," she said softly, reaching for the bouquet.
He smirked faintly. "I know," he replied. "But I wanted to. There's no reason for a gift, sometimes, except… because I can."
She felt warmth creep up her neck, mingled with something sharper—a hint of tension that made her pulse quicken. "I… I appreciate it," she said, her fingers brushing the petals.
"Good." He stepped closer, just enough that she could feel the faint heat from his presence without him touching her. "I like seeing you happy."
She tried to keep her composure, but his gaze held her like a spell. "You're… very attentive," she said carefully, almost a question.
"I notice things," he murmured. "The way you handle each flower… the way you laugh when no one is watching… the way you move. It's… remarkable."
Her cheeks warmed, but she kept her hands busy arranging the bouquet. She didn't know why, but a small, uneasy thrill ran through her.
"Tomorrow," he said suddenly, his tone almost casual, "I'll be around again. I hope you don't mind."
Lian Hua looked up, startled. "Mind? Why would I—"
He cut her off with a faint smile and a tilt of his head, as if the question didn't matter. "Good. I'll see you tomorrow, then."
And just like that, he left, the bell above the door jingling softly, leaving behind the lingering fragrance of the lotuses—and the lingering heat of his attention.
Alone, Lian Hua traced the edges of the petals, thinking: he's no ordinary man. He's intense, overwhelming… and I can't stop thinking about him.