Strawberry Almond Cookie - Chapter 2
This wasn’t the bouquet I’d originally chosen.
When we passed a florist that day, I saw pink flowers in the window: Strawberry Almond Cookie spray roses paired with white violets.
Soft and airy, like a cloud steeped in sunset.
I fell in love with them at first sight.
The shop assistant told me they cost 398 yuan.
Xu Jingze took my hand.
“It’s your birthday, Sangsang. It only comes once a year. If you like them, let’s get them. I’ve still got a little money left.”
He paused, then added, “Though I might have to live on instant noodles for the next month afterward. It’s fine. Don’t worry about me. Your happiness matters more than anything.”
I knew how hard things were for him.
His mother had died young, and his father owed a mountain of gambling debts. Almost everything he earned went toward paying them off.
We’d met during our internship. He’d started after me and would come to me with questions about things he didn’t understand. Before long, asking for help turned into asking me out.
He was exactly my type. Poor, but full of drive and hope. So when he told me how he felt, I said yes.
Two people in similar circumstances, working together to put down roots in this city.
How could I let him eat instant noodles for a month?
As much as I loved those Strawberry Almond Cookie roses, I pulled him out of the shop. At a street stall that was about to close, I bargained for ages and bought a bouquet of lisianthus instead.
When he paid, something softened in his eyes.
The dim yellow light fell across his face. His eyes suddenly reddened, and his voice grew rough.
“Sangsang, being with me has been so hard on you. I’ll work hard. I promise I’ll give you everything you want.”
I laughed and threw myself into his arms, my heart full.
I didn’t know that while he was holding me, he’d secretly ordered another girl a bouquet worth a hundred times as much.
Nor did I know that his surname, Xu, belonged to Beijing’s richest family.
The very same Xu family that owned the Xu Group, where I was interning.
