PS: I just got word from my editor that this story will go premium tomorrow (September 12). Three updates will be combined into one 10,000-character chapter, so I hope you'll show your support! Also, there won't be an update today, since the author needs to save up material for that big chapter.
I'm currently saving up chapters for The Knots of the Heart. Please also follow my author page. Kisses!
As an orphaned cousin, if she doesn't plan to cling to her older male cousin, she has no choice but to make it on her own!
Song Qingwan is so broke she can't even afford a gift for her maternal grandmother. Dad, why did you spend all our family fortune on books? You could at least have left your daughter a little!
Potential is driven out of you by necessity. Wanwan discovers that the books her father left behind seem incredibly useful. With just two flower-growing manuals, Song Qingwan sets out on the road to the pinnacle of life.
At the eldest young lady's birthday party, a pot of hydrangeas earns her a pair of butterfly hairpins. At the third young lady's banquet, a pot of bird's-nest orchid gets her a bolt of fine fabric. For the old madam's birthday, a cypress earns her... Good heavens, an emerald jade bangle!
Mm, with a book in hand, life is worry-free. She can even use it to win over her future husband. Dad, you really knew what you were doing.
Key points: The male lead is reborn, while the female lead is a native of this world. She grows flowers and paints, and she's as lovely as a flower.
Theme:
Is this the end? I feel like I haven't seen enough yet, it's so beautiful and beautiful.
The heroine is too weak. She can be so good-tempered and reason with these top-notch people. If I just had people throw them out, it would be so frustrating. Maybe the heroine is used to living under someone else's roof. It would be frustrating.
I hate that Yan Qingyao, she's so vicious
I hope the heroine won't be so stupid and fooled.
This cleansing is too harsh
Press your paw, sit back and wait, come on
Press the claws, the sofa is soft
Pressing the claws, I have forgotten who Yan Qingyao is
Press the claws, the rhythm of death
What about the flowers we promised to grow →_→Where did the flowers go?