Shen Chaoxi was not actually allergic to flowers, nor did she have strong feelings about them.
Perhaps it was the need for some beautiful things to embellish the elegant setting, but she suddenly found the bouquet in front of her to be very fitting for the occasion.
Her luminescent fingers gently flicked the light white flower buds, dew-kissed, their edges a gradient of red.
The faint fragrance of roses seemed to carry a slight intoxication, causing a swelling sensation in one's heart and spleen.
In this slight intoxication, her words drifted out unrehearsed.
"Mr. Shang had his blind date here on the 3rd, at this very same table, but the roses were of a different color," she said.
That day, the roses were red like fire!
Shen Chaoxi's clear gaze still rested on the petals; her tone was gentle, revealing neither joy nor curiosity.
"Oh? How do you know?" Shang Jianghan asked her, curving his lips.
Shen Chaoxi looked at him—hadn't he asked her first?