It was the first time he had ever heard someone dislike London because of Big Ben. Indeed... Su Ziceng shook his head helplessly; artists truly have the most peculiar temperaments.
"Master Rang says I’m rude, fine, but why does he say I’m slow?" Hang Yishao felt both embarrassed and somewhat unwilling to accept this after being interrupted by Master Rang.
"Slow is slow, oh, the food is here," the waiter brought the dishes, and Miss Bao Qin laughed, her gaze lingering on the young couple. Master Rang was mocking, and Hang Yishao’s soul was captivated, yet he didn’t know how to express his feelings. In the end, Miss Bao Qin couldn’t keep up her laugh; everyone loves to point fingers at others, but how many realize they do the same.
The dishes were indeed exquisite, both in seasoning and preparation, one notch above the rest. It is only in such a setting and such restaurants that one can enjoy truly authentic French cuisine.
"We old folks aren’t like you youngsters; I need to go for a walk. If I sit any longer, I’ll have to have all the trousers in my wardrobe tailored again, and Bao Qin will nag," said Master Rang, proposing a stroll after dinner.
Walking straight down the Avenue des Champs-Elysees, a section brimming with flower shops is encountered, and further down lies the Seine River. At the riverbank around eight or nine o’clock, one might occasionally hear the sound of waterbirds skimming the water. The tranquil river surface reflects the treetops and white moon in the sky.
At first, the four walked side by side, then gradually started trailing one behind the other.
Mrs. Bao Qin and Master Rang walked in harmony, as if they often took strolls by the river, their steps neither too fast nor too slow, perfectly in sync.
For Su Ziceng and Hang Yishao, it was the first time they had taken a walk after dinner, so Yishao tended to walk too fast, leaving Su Ziceng behind.
It was only after twenty minutes or so that their pace finally aligned. Compared to the boisterous laughter of Master Rang that occasionally reached them from ahead, the two of them seemed much too quiet.
Su Ziceng’s gaze roamed over the aquatic plants on the riverbank and the silhouette ahead, "Why doesn’t Master Rang confess his feelings to Miss Bao Qin?"
Even Su Ziceng, who had only recently met the pair, could tell within the short span of a meal that there was more than mere collegial fondness between the two partners who had worked seamlessly together for over twenty years.
Hang Yishao, mulling over asking Su Ziceng about her relationship with Pello, was thrown off by this tangent and stammered for a while before he found that pair of interested eyes sparkling in the night and lights. "Maybe it’s because they’ve been together so long, the sense of intimacy and excitement that comes with being lovers has faded."
"That’s men’s reasoning," Su Ziceng exhaled, "Women aren’t like men; besides... physical stimulation and curiosity, time allows a woman’s feelings to settle." Fearing that the people ahead could hear her, she stepped closer, whispering into Hang Yishao’s ear. Years of habit made her comfortable with such actions, and momentarily, she forgot to avoid any impropriety.
Hang Yishao’s heart beat fiercely. He could feel the tickle of Su Ziceng’s breath by his ear, then her long hair stealthily sliding into his collar. His hand reached out, wanting to pull her into his embrace.
"As Master Rang was kind enough to treat us tonight, how about we lend a hand?" Su Ziceng’s playful voice still echoed by his ear, but she had already run ahead. Hang Yishao, looking at the hands he’d wanted to wrap around her, felt a wave of sadness wash over him.
Su Ziceng took Miss Bao Qin towards a row of flower shops, claiming to buy flowers, and easily found out Miss Bao Qin’s favorite one. Hang Yishao and Mr. Rang stood aside, listening to the chatter of the women inside.
"Young man, you really have to work hard," said Master Rang, unusually lowering his voice and muttering at his side. Hang Yishao was somewhat caught between laughter and tears; the old man, still knowing how to lecture others, had completely forgotten about his own affairs.
The matter of feelings is intriguing; the old tease the young for being slow, while the young consider the old to be desensitized. After all, it’s indescribable.
But Hang Yishao, after all, is young. Watching and learning, he quickly picked up the nuances. When Su Ziceng and Mrs. Bao Qin came out, he immediately went into the flower shop. Emerging with a bunch of red and pink roses, he handed the red roses to Mrs. Bao Qin while giving the pink roses to Su Ziceng.
"What a clever young man," praised Mrs. Bao Qin, casting a glance at Master Rang, still pulling faces aside, and she sighed softly.
On the other hand, Su Ziceng looked at the delicate pink roses and did not feel much joy. It was the first time Hang Yishao had given her flowers, albeit under the guidance of her "matchmaking plan." However, she did not like pink roses; on the contrary, she favored red ones. Having known Hang Yishao for so many years, it was disappointing that he still did not know her preference.
Hang Yishao was unaware of this; habitually, he thought that all young girls would like pink roses.
That night, the four of them walked along the Seine River back and forth and then bid each other goodbye. Su Ziceng did not tell Hang Yishao her address in Paris and declined his offer to move her to a better hotel. This trip to Paris, although starting on a rough note, had to end beautifully. And that beauty required effort to be obtained.
The pink roses ended up in Lin Ying’s small basement room, becoming an incomplete part of the scenery, and wilted after a week. A more perfect scene was unfolding in the flower shop by the Seine River.
The courtship triggered by the flowers lasted until a year later, still fondly talked about by the people in Paris City. Meanwhile, Su Ziceng, the mastermind behind this craze, was quietly anticipating the arrival of the next day. (To be continued. If you work, you are welcome to vote for it with a recommendation ticket or monthly ticket on Qidian (qidian.com). Your support is my greatest motivation.)