Chapter Fifty-Two: Sending Flowers

Yang Danni’s recent days had not been easy. As her colleague Wen Qi put it, she was like a woman pining in a lonely chamber. It had been two weeks since she and Long Fei separated. At first, she waited each day, eyes fixed on her phone, hoping for his call. She imagined coming home after work one day to find Long Fei sitting on the sofa, smiling at her and beckoning her closer. For so many days, she rushed home after work, only to feel the chill of disappointment when her hopes were dashed. Gradually, despair crept into her heart.

Mistakes at work became frequent, though this did not affect the number of citizens who sat in front of their televisions at seven every evening to watch the program she hosted. The station director never blamed her or called her in for a talk, but Yang Danni found herself resenting her own shortcomings.

She hated herself for clinging to love she could not attain.

She hated herself for not knowing how to let go.

She hated herself for not knowing how to protect what mattered.

Yang Danni wanted to focus her energy on work, as she had for more than a year, thinking of Long Fei only in dreams or late at night. But she found herself unable to do so.

The more she tried to forget, the less she could. That was the nature of love.

Each day, the number of people bringing flowers to the station remained high. It troubled Yang Danni, but there was nothing she could do. She wished Long Fei might one day be like these men, sending her a bouquet of red roses—or just a single bloom would suffice. If that happened, she would die without regret. But she knew this was mere wishful thinking. She understood Long Fei—he was not a man to easily show favor to women. Yet she loved him all the same.

Love has no reason, she knew.

Men are like poisoned wine, Yang Danni thought, and she had drunk it without hesitation, now living in a drunken haze for Long Fei.

Seeing her dear friend trapped by emotion, Wen Qi, though unaware of Long Fei’s existence, felt saddened and thought Yang Danni’s devotion unworthy. She believed few men in this world deserved Yang Danni’s love, and that no woman should be heartbroken over a man. Hadn’t Yang Danni managed well before? Why couldn’t she do so now?

Yet even as Wen Qi worried for Yang Danni, she couldn’t help but become curious about the man who haunted her friend’s dreams.

As a leading host on Shanghai TV’s entertainment channel, Wen Qi was naturally beautiful, her elegance and striking looks undeniable. Yet she herself felt Yang Danni was far more beautiful, her bearing much nobler—a fact, not mere modesty.

Born into the Yang family of Beijing, Yang Danni possessed an innate air of distinction. Seeing people line up every day at the station entrance to bring her flowers, Wen Qi felt no jealousy or resentment. On the contrary, she often spent her free moments with her friend, sometimes helping to accept the flowers and then acting as a garbage collector, tossing them into the bin.

It had become routine, even a source of amusement for Wen Qi. Receiving and discarding flowers daily, she developed a peculiar sensitivity to them, her knowledge growing deeper. She even fantasized about opening a flower shop once she retired from hosting, confident that her expertise was already sufficient.

“Danni, I’m so curious—won’t you tell me about him?” Wen Qi, having finished recording today’s program, hurried to Yang Danni’s office. Seeing her still gazing absent-mindedly at the blue sky outside the window, Wen Qi felt a pang of sympathy—and a surge of curiosity.

What kind of man could possibly ensnare Yang Danni so completely?

Wen Qi, freshly unmasked, donned a cheongsam she’d just brought back from Suzhou and Hangzhou—red and black, her bare arms as soft as her face. Her large, sparkling eyes and slightly furrowed brows, paired with crystal drop earrings, gave her a truly unique Eastern beauty.

Yang Danni, preparing to host the evening news, wore a black suit with a white blouse beneath. Her hair, unlike Wen Qi’s carefully arranged style, was simply blown into waves, yet she radiated competence and elegance.

Of course, if Long Fei were present, he would see things differently. To a seasoned rogue like him, Yang Danni would seem utterly irresistible.

Yang Danni did not turn. She seemed to have thought of something delightful, her cheeks flushed and a smile curling at her lips.

My goodness, she’s lost in reverie again.

Wen Qi sighed. It was not the first time Yang Danni had daydreamed like this.

A security guard knocked. Wen Qi turned, instantly excited.

The guard, equally excited, carried a huge armful of flowers—at least a dozen bouquets. He had been a security guard for years, changing workplaces several times, but nowhere had he been so comfortable. Every day, he got to deliver armfuls of flowers to his idol. Even though he hadn’t bought them, he could boast to others about bringing flowers to Yang Danni, satisfying his vanity.

He was indeed delivering flowers.

Yang Danni still did not turn, lost in her daydream.

Wen Qi shooed the guard away, then began reading the notes attached to the bouquets, tossing them one by one into the spacious trash bin in the corner of the office—a bin specially provided for Yang Danni due to the daily influx of flowers. The station director, thoughtful as ever, came up with this solution to ease her burden.

“Danni, aside from Xie Qingquan and the others, three new faces joined today. Honestly, these guys must be pretty loaded—and this Zhou Guanglin is the mayor’s nephew! Oh, I’m amazed—they even send their photos along. Ha! But Zhou Guanglin is not nearly as handsome as the others, much less than Xie Qingquan!” Wen Qi, in the corner, was enjoying the photos, business cards, and the notes these men had painstakingly composed.

“No, not three—four!” Long Fei had entered unnoticed, leaning against the office door, a red rose in hand, his mischievous gaze fixed on Yang Danni.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” Wen Qi spun around to find Long Fei’s sly smile locked onto Yang Danni, instantly annoyed. What were the security guards doing, letting this flower-bringer wander in? If he were a rogue, wouldn’t that spell trouble? Moreover, he seemed to ignore her completely. She was beautiful, after all—was she really so inferior to Yang Danni? Admittedly, he did look like a rogue.

Seeing Wen Qi’s guarded stare as her hand moved toward the alarm on the wall, Long Fei made no move to stop her, simply smiling. “As you can see, I’m here to bring flowers to my idol.”

“Flowers? Who are you bringing them to? Why not hand them to the security at the door?” Wen Qi, reassured by having alerted security, relaxed, though her tone was still displeased.

Twisting the rose between two fingers, Long Fei continued to smile. “Of course, they’re for her. Would I bring them for you? As for the guards at the door—I didn’t see any. Do you have security at the back door too? Oh, wait, there was one guard, but I slipped him a hundred yuan and he obediently went off to the restroom, so I snuck in without anyone noticing.”

“Alright, do you want to give me the flower, or just throw it in the trash?” Wen Qi moved beside Yang Danni, shielding her.

Yang Danni still seemed lost in her dream, smiling faintly and gazing at the distant blue sky, oblivious to the conversation unfolding in the room.

“I’m here to give her the flower. Why should I give it to you? Why toss it in the trash?” Long Fei, noticing Yang Danni’s unresponsiveness, felt strangely moved—he understood what was happening, and guilt stirred within him.

Wen Qi sneered. “You want to hand it to her yourself? Don’t kid yourself. Let me tell you, I’m the one who collects and discards her flowers. Everyone knows we’re the best of friends. I’ve never seen her accept anyone’s flowers. Even if you give it to her, do you think she would take it?”

Long Fei was taken aback. No wonder Wen Qi stood protectively in front of Yang Danni—they were close friends. Intrigued, he smiled, “By the way, I don’t know who you are.”

“I’m Wen Qi—hmph, why should I tell you my name?” Wen Qi replied, annoyed.

Long Fei grinned. “But you already did. Thank you, Miss Wen, and thank you for taking care of Danni—I truly appreciate it.”

“Oh, you’re so annoying! Danni isn’t someone you can call by name. Security, hurry and throw him out! What are you all doing, letting people in like this?” Seeing several guards and even the station director rushing over, Wen Qi felt emboldened.

“Enough, I’m not playing with you. I’m here for my Danni!” Long Fei strode toward Yang Danni.

Wen Qi hurried to block him, but Long Fei gently grasped her arm and moved her aside, then placed the rose before the still-dreaming Yang Danni.

“Quick, throw him out—he’s a rogue!” Wen Qi, pulled aside, felt aggrieved and close to tears, anxiously calling for help from the guards and station director.

“Stop him, hurry, drag him out!” The director, bald on one side, shouted.

But at that moment, Yang Danni finally snapped out of her reverie. She frowned, thinking Wen Qi was playing a prank, and scolded, “Ah Qi, what are you doing, I’m not—”

Her gaze shifted, and her eyes widened. She slowly stood, then rushed into Long Fei’s arms, bursting into tears.

Who says women of the Yang family do not weep? Only before meeting Long Fei was that true.