Another half month passed, and the early winter in the Southern Hemisphere was cold and damp, with the sky rarely clearing up.
In the courtyard of the seaside villa, Chu Wuyang squatted in front of the white camellia bushes, wearing gloves.
He meticulously trimmed the branches and leaves.
However, her earnestness lasted less than three minutes before she changed her tune—she cut the new shoot off with a single stroke.
Then he turned the kettle upside down and almost spilled all the water on his shoes.
She frowned, sighed at the pot of white camellias that had been pruned haphazardly, and muttered to herself.
"How can flowers be more delicate than people..."
Sunlight lazily streamed into the courtyard not far away. Yang Jinchu, in his wheelchair, held a book, but his eyes were glued to the page he had just turned, staring at her clumsy, flower-killing-like manner for a long time.
I finally couldn't help but speak up.
"Are you pruning it or murdering it?"
Chu Wuyang was startled by his sudden voice, and her scissors trembled, almost cutting crookedly again.
She turned around and glared at him.
“What do you know? This is ‘artistic trimming’.”
"Then don't cut it, really,"
Yang Jinchu put down her book, her tone revealing undisguised disdain.
"If you move it any further, it will need to go to the intensive care unit."
“Say one more word and I’ll make you go to the hospital with it.”
Chu Wuyang retorted, but her hand movements clearly hesitated.
Yang Jinchu couldn't help but chuckle when he saw her looking like she was "about to get angry but also guilty".
A moment later, he actually moved the armrest of his wheelchair, as if he wanted to stand up on his own.
"Hello--!"
Chu Wuyang, with her sharp eyes, quickly threw away the scissors and pounced on him, grabbing his arm.
"Don't move, wounded comrade!"
"You are now a key national protected individual. The doctor said you cannot lift heavy objects or overexert yourself."
Yang Jinchu noticed her tense expression, but a slow smile crept onto her lips.
"Then don't cut them to death, it hurts me to see them like that."
Chu Wuyang immediately straightened her back, her words still defiant.
"Tell me, how should I cut it?"
"Tell me slowly, and I'll do it slowly. I promise I won't kill anyone."
As she spoke, she squatted down again, straightening the crooked branch while carefully cutting off a leaf.
Yang Jinchu leaned against the wheelchair, her hands folded on her lap, continuing to complain.
"There, the angle is a bit off, further to the right... no, to the left—tsk, are you a liberal arts student?"
Chu Wuyang gritted her teeth.
“Say it again, and I’ll really make you go to work in the fields.”
"Okay,"
Yang Jinchu smiled and said softly,
"You feed me medicine for three days, and I'll help you plant flowers for three days."
Chu Wuyang didn't reply, seemingly lost in thought.
That pitiful pot of white camellia,
Finally, on her third attempt to trim it, she received reasonably good care.
Yang Jinchu watched her squatting in front of the flowers, busying herself, and her gaze softened little by little.
Chu Wuyang finally trimmed the last branch and sat down on the ground, letting out a sigh of relief.
The sunlight slanted down, and she looked up at the white camellia she had been fussing over for half the day.
The edges of a few tender green leaves were curled up, and some parts were not trimmed neatly.
But in the very center, a tiny flower bud quietly emerged, its color yet to fully bloom.
Yet it carried a hint of stubbornness and vitality.
She stared at the flower bud for a long time.
I gently stroked the leaf with my fingertips, and suddenly my eyes started to sting.
—Actually, growing flowers is really not easy.
It needs sunlight, water, and temperature, as well as pruning, fertilization, pest control, and ventilation; every step must be done correctly.
She was so careful, and all she dared to hope was that it would live and not die.
Ke Jingmin seems to take care of flowers effortlessly.
On Golden Sunflower Island, the white roses he cultivated bloomed wave after wave, and when the wind blew, petals as white as frost covered the ground.
She even complained that he was a "lazy gardener," only choosing the hardy varieties...
She looked down at the flower bud struggling to survive, her throat felt tight, and tears welled up in her eyes.
He said he had cultivated a new variety of "white rose".
Colorful white roses?
I don't know if it really exists, but anyway, she never got to see it...
A tear fell from the corner of her eye and was quickly swallowed by the soil.
She lowered her head and quietly wiped it away, trying to cover it up, but she had been squatting for too long, and the tip of her nose was already red and her eyelashes were wet.
Not far away, Yang Jinchu was about to turn the page.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that she was squatting there motionless, staring blankly at the flowers.
He frowned and immediately shouted—
"Yangyang!"
His voice carried a hint of urgency.
Chu Wuyang raised her head; her tears had stopped, but her eyes were still red.
The sunlight fell on her eyelashes, as if they were covered with a thin layer of mist.
She took a deep breath and smiled at him.
"It's alright, the flower buds have opened, I'm a little touched."
Yang Jinchu was silent for a moment.
He didn't expose it, but simply raised his hand and pressed it to his chest, as if suppressing some emotion.
It's not unusual for white camellias to bloom.
But her eyes welled up with tears for a flower that was about to bloom...
"The flowers are done, I'm going to change my clothes."
Chu Wuyang patted the mud off his clothes and went inside.
She tossed the dirty clothes into the laundry basket, glanced back at her phone on the bedside table, and hesitated for a moment.
I picked it up and took a look anyway.
There were no missed calls.
No news.
There was nothing there.
—It's been over a month.
How is Jingmin's injury?
Are you still in Haicheng?
She didn't investigate, nor did she dare to. News about Boyifang was everywhere, and she deliberately avoided it, but she knew that the business empire had completely collapsed.
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