Jiang Nian’s flower shop was on the verge of closing.
There were three months left on the lease, less than twenty thousand in the account, and her stepmother called every day to urge her, “Stop struggling and come home to meet someone.”
Then Pei Yan walked in and bought the most expensive white rose in her shop.
She thought he was just a wealthy customer. Until he came back the next day, not to buy flowers, but to offer her a contract worth twenty thousand a month.
“My company needs a floral supplier,” he said.
She signed.
Only later did she learn that on the day he first entered her shop, he already had a photo of her mother saved on his phone. He was looking for a ring, and the trail to that ring led to her mother, Shen Wan.
But the ring wasn’t why he stayed.
“The ring doesn’t matter. You do.”
Pei Yan
