The Engineer Falls for His Sweet-Scented Maid - Chapter 45: Flowers and Gifts

The bicycle passed along the tree-lined road outside the Municipal Party Committee Compound and turned into a somewhat shabby alley.

The road was uneven. A wheel struck a broken brick, jolting the bicycle.

Nianhe gave a startled cry. The arms she had loosely looped around Huai’s waist tightened instinctively, and her upper body struck his solid back.

The unmistakable fullness beneath her blue floral blouse compressed against him.

His summer shirt was thin. His body was hot.

Huai’s back stiffened. The handlebars wavered slightly before he steadied them.

Without looking back, he spoke into the wind, his low voice carrying a leisurely satisfaction. “Hold tight. It gets rougher ahead.”

At the end of the alley stood a red wooden door with peeling paint.

He squeezed the brakes and planted one foot.

“We’re here. Get down.”

Nianhe quickly released him and hopped off the rear rack, tidying her wind-tousled braids.

Huai went to the door and knocked: three long knocks and one short.

After a moment, it opened inward.

A young man in a floral shirt and flared trousers peered out, oversized sunglasses perched on his nose.

“Huai? What brings you here in the middle of the day?” Recognizing him, the man pulled the door wide.

Then he noticed the delicate young woman with the provocative figure standing behind him. His jaw nearly dropped, and his sunglasses slid halfway down his nose.

“This is Jianjun He, a childhood friend.” Huai wheeled the bicycle over the threshold and turned to introduce him to Nianhe. “He’s doing a little trading on his own now.”

Jianjun pushed up his sunglasses and circled halfway around her.

Uncomfortable under his scrutiny, she edged behind Huai.

“Huai, where… where did you find a heavenly beauty like this?” Jianjun clicked his tongue in wonder. “That figure. That face. Incredible.”

Huai kicked his shin. His voice was cold. “Stop staring. She’s my girlfriend.”

Jianjun grimaced at the pain. Then his eyes widened enormously.

“Your girlfriend? Your old-fashioned father will let you find a…” He swallowed the rest.

Nianhe was cleanly dressed, but the faded blue floral blouse and old cloth shoes plainly marked her as no daughter of a wealthy city household.

“Enough nonsense.” Huai ignored the opening. “Didn’t you say two days ago that you’d brought some good merchandise back from Yangcheng? Let’s see it.”

Jianjun chuckled and hurried them inside.

“Right you are. Come in, sister-in-law. The sun’s fierce out there.”

That “sister-in-law” turned Nianhe’s ears red.

Head down, she followed close behind Huai.

The room was spacious, piled with goods in woven plastic sacks.

Jianjun went into the inner room and returned with a camphorwood chest, which he set on a large square table.

When he opened it, the yellow gleam was dazzling.

Inside lay gold necklaces and rings in every style, along with sparkling jewelry fashionable in the south.

In Liuhe Village, Nianhe had scarcely seen a few silver bangles. She had never seen this much gold. Alarmed, she took half a step back.

Huai pulled up a long bench and pressed her shoulders to seat her.

“Choose.” He pointed at the chest.

She waved both hands and lowered her voice. “I don’t want any. It’s far too valuable. How would I explain if someone saw?”

“What’s there to explain? It’s a gift for my girlfriend.” Bracing one hand on the edge of her bench, he leaned over her and spoke beside her ear. “Pick something flowery. It would suit you.”

Flowery.

Her face grew hotter.

Why did even his taste in jewelry have to be so gaudy?

Jianjun knew how to read a room. He immediately rummaged out a pure gold necklace.

An intricately worked peony hung from it, the petals layered thickly, its weight substantial.

“Take a look at this, sister-in-law.” He held it out. “The latest fashion in Yangcheng. Men trading down south love buying these for their wives. Around your neck, it looks wonderfully rich.”

Nianhe twisted the hem of her old blouse and stubbornly refused to reach for it.

Jianjun held out the heavy gold peony necklace, but no one took it.

Her chin nearly touched her collarbone as she tried to shrink farther behind Huai.

The room was quiet except for the old ceiling fan creaking overhead.

Huai noticed her discomfort.

“Jianjun, go check the invoice for that shipment from Yangcheng,” he said evenly, turning his head.

Seasoned by the rough and tumble of commerce, Jianjun was shrewd.

One look at Huai and another at the shrinking Nianhe told him he was in the way.

“Sure.” He put the necklace back in the chest. “Take your time choosing with her, Huai. I’ll go check the accounts outside. Anything you like, take it. No need to stand on ceremony with me.”

He slipped out of the inner room at once, tactfully pulling its peeling wooden door firmly shut behind him.

The latch clicked into place.

Only Huai, Nianhe, and the chest of gleaming jewelry remained.

The fan blew warm air.

Nianhe thought the room felt even stuffier than outside.

She stole a glance at the half-chest of gold and quickly looked away.

“Huai.” Her voice was small and tentative. “It’s too valuable. I can’t accept it. Let’s go.”

He did not answer.

Instead, he pulled the bench out and sat beside her.

It was not spacious to begin with. His height and broad shoulders took up most of it.

His white shirt inevitably brushed her shoulder.

His heat reached her through the fabric. She shifted a little away.

He moved closer as soon as she did.

There was almost no space between them.

Nianhe had eaten an extra half-bowl of rice in the kitchen at noon. Now, hemmed in by him, her breathing quickened, and the familiar swollen ache began to return.

The front of her floral blouse drew taut, its buttons straining. Sweet milk scent seeped from her collar and wove between them.

Huai’s breathing deepened. His eyes settled on her reddening ears.

He did not hurry to pick up any jewelry. He braced one hand on the bench and turned toward her.

“Do you know how young people date in the more open cities now? In the special economic zones, or Hu City?” His voice was low.

Nianhe paused.

She had barely found her way around Jiangnan City. How could she know anything about Hu City or the special economic zones?

She shook her head honestly. “No.”

“They choose whom they love.” He held her gaze. “You have to tell the other person how you feel and ask them. That’s a confession. The man gives the woman gifts. Flowers too.”

It all sounded strange and new to her.

In Liuhe Village, a matchmaker arranged the marriage, a bride price changed hands, and the wedding feast followed. The couple did not even have to meet first.

Giving flowers sounded like a foreign custom found only in illustrated magazines.

“That’s how educated people behave in big cities,” she said dutifully, her hands on her knees. “We country people don’t bother with such things.”

“You live in the city now,” he corrected. “And your boyfriend is a city man.”

Her cheeks reddened.

She still could not get used to the way he so openly called himself her boyfriend.

Huai leaned a little closer, his soapberry scent mingling with her sweetness.

“You should have what other girlfriends have.” His voice was steady. “I want to give you things. Flowers. Gifts.”