Volume One, Chapter 90: President Huo Begins Pursuing His Wife

Because Mingting Ho had never pursued anyone before, and had no experience buying flowers, he had no real idea what thirteen hundred and fourteen red roses looked like. He only thought the number was auspicious: thirteen hundred and fourteen, for life and all time. A little corny, perhaps, but it carried a lovely meaning.

He had not even signed his own name on the card. Instead, he wrote the two words “Starting Over,” with a faintly obvious attempt to conceal the truth.

But in Mr. Ho’s opinion: well, that was rather romantic.

As Ye Sheng stepped out of the elevator, she saw the office entrance crowded with people, as lively as a marketplace.

She walked over and first noticed the balloons, then a massive bouquet of roses.

Countless roses had been gathered into an enormous floral sphere, the fragrance rich and heady.

“Achoo!” Ye Sheng sneezed at the most inopportune moment. Everyone turned and greeted her at once. “Director, good morning.”

“Morning.” Ye Sheng smiled. “Whose husband sent such a romantic bouquet?”

She had only meant to make polite conversation, but to her surprise every gaze in the room fixed on her.

Mia took down the card. “It seems to be yours.”

?

A question mark seemed to spring up in Ye Sheng’s mind. When she saw the signature, the two words “Starting Over,” she vaguely sensed what was going on.

Her face darkened almost instantly.

Romance had turned into trouble.

“Take it apart,” Ye Sheng said to the young nurses. “Since it’s still fresh, each of you take a bundle home. Whatever is left, distribute it to the wards and give it to the patients.”

Trouble was made by people. What had the flowers done wrong?

Holding the card, she went into the office and immediately saw Qin Minshu’s gloomy face.

Qin Minshu sat in a chair, still not changed out of her white coat. Her red wool dress was as glaring as the bouquet of red roses outside. Arms folded, she said coldly, “Director Ye, you really do have quite the face, don’t you? Such a huge bouquet—must have been very satisfying to your vanity.”

She had been with Mingting Ho for so long, and he had never given her flowers.

Whenever she wanted any, she had to ask for them herself, and Mingting Ho would have his assistant place the order.

Seeing Qin Minshu’s swollen eyes, Ye Sheng knew she must have spent the past few days drowning in tears.

She took off her coat and changed into her white coat, then asked calmly, “Did you and Mingting Ho break up?”

“No!”

Qin Minshu reacted fiercely, springing to her feet. “I didn’t agree to it, so it doesn’t count as a breakup! We can’t break up anyway!”

Ye Sheng gave her a sidelong look. “I hope so. Then the two of you should stay locked together. Keep a close eye on your boyfriend and don’t let him do these inexplicable things that only irritate people.”

Qin Minshu stared at her in disbelief, thinking, You’re irritated?

I’m not even the one irritated yet—what right do you have to be annoyed?

That enormous bouquet of roses had made her think Mingting Ho was sending it to placate her. She had felt a burst of joy for only a second before rushing over, only to see that the card read: Presented to Miss Ye Sheng.

At first she had not thought it was from Mingting Ho; she had assumed it was from some admirer of Ye Sheng’s. Driven by a sour, curious feeling, Qin Minshu dragged the flower-shop staff into a thorough interrogation.

When she saw the character on the order form, “Ho,” it felt as though the top of her skull had been blown clean off.

“Starting Over.”

Was he truly planning to pursue Ye Sheng and begin anew with her?

Enraged, Qin Minshu gripped her phone and kept calling Mingting Ho. The moment the call connected, she furiously questioned him from the hospital roof. “Did you send the flowers? Are you serious? Mingting, you’ve never even sent me thirteen hundred and fourteen red roses…”

Her grievance was nearly heartbreaking.

Mingting Ho asked only one thing: “Did Ye Sheng accept them?”

“She had the nurses take your flowers apart. Each person took a bundle home, and the rest were sent straight to the wards.”

Qin Minshu gave a cold laugh. “See? She doesn’t care one bit about your intentions. Why insist on forcing flowers on her?”

“I want to.”

Mingting Ho tossed out those three words and hung up. He called Ye Sheng next, but when the call connected, it was another woman’s voice.

Mia answered and said Director Ye was in a meeting.

“It was you who sent the flowers, right?” Mia said. “My boss doesn’t fall for that sort of thing. Once, abroad, some rich businessman bought out an entire flower shop and sent her one bouquet of red roses a day, without missing a single day for a whole year, and our boss still didn’t fall for him.”

Mia thought to herself: Anyone can tell he doesn’t understand our Miss Ye. Professor Ho is the one who gets it. The things he sends—soups, little dishes, all those everyday treats—our boss always finishes every last bite. That’s the practical way.

“Oh? That hard to win over?”

Mingting Ho considered it. So Ye Sheng did not like red roses.

That businessman had sent red roses every day, with no novelty at all. He would have the flower shop send a different kind of flower each day instead; surely one of them would reach Ye Sheng’s heart.

Fine. That would do.