Sweet Gardenia - Chapter 8.1

Lu Zhi stood frozen in place for a full three minutes, a scene flashing through her mind.

She remembered drunkenly picking up a phone from the table, opening the camera, and taking a photo, intending to use it as a reference for the CEO’s office.  After all, it was a popular character archetype for game protagonists.

But she distinctly remembered the phone was hers, and she had used the rear camera, hadn’t she?

And… she had no recollection of what happened afterward.

Lu Zhi turned on the screen again to confirm.  It was indeed the lock screen. “Did I set this wallpaper too?”

He remained composed. “It’s possible a jellyfish hacked into my phone in the middle of the night.”

“…”

It was hard to explain why she had taken that photo.

Sneaking a picture of someone else’s office made her seem like a creep.

“Maybe… I just wanted to leave you with a memento,” she explained vaguely. “After all, when people are drunk, they act on subconscious impulses. Maybe I thought you… work really hard and would be happy to see this photo?”

What am I even saying…

After a moment’s thought, she added, “Oh, but it’s more likely that I grabbed the wrong phone. I thought it was mine, so I took a selfie.”

He lowered his gaze and didn’t respond. She assumed he was convinced.

Lu Zhi felt she should make it up to him and volunteered, “Let me change your wallpaper for you. What was your previous lock screen image?”

“Leaves. Water ripples.”

Leaves? Water ripples?

“Then I’ll set this one for you. It’s a photo of Lake Sayram that I saved earlier,” she said, pulling it up on her phone. “I use it too.”

The photo, unedited yet vivid, showed pale clouds dyeing the mountains like snow-dusted pagodas. Under the sunlight, the blue lake water shifted in gradients, fading from deep blue to a translucent, crystal-clear light blue.

It was a live photo.

Fu Yanshang asked, “Did you take this?”

“No, I saw someone else’s photo. I’ve always wanted to travel there, but I’ve never had the time,” she said. “I’ll go when I’m free.”

She successfully steered the conversation away from the photo and chatted a bit more about travel. Seeing that he didn’t bring the topic back, she finally relaxed.

They each went about their tasks for a while. By 11 p.m., she had already gotten into bed, but seeing him still working, she felt she couldn’t fall behind and picked up a book from her bedside to read.

The warm yellow ceiling light was dimmed to its lowest setting. Sensing something amiss, she turned her head and saw him wearing a light-colored velvet pajama set, half-reclining against the bed with a lumbar pillow. The light from his side illuminated his earlobe, making it look like a piece of carved mutton-fat jade, except the lower edge of that jade was now flushed a deep red.

She pointed and asked, “Did a mosquito bite your ear?”

Fu Yanshang glanced at her. “A jellyfish bit me.”

“…”

There was no need to guess that this “jellyfish” was related to her. Lu Zhi wisely chose not to inquire further and slowly lay back down.

A short while later, the ceiling light turned off, and the sound of typing ceased. She turned her head again.  He still hadn’t fallen asleep.

The distance between them remained neither too close nor too far, though their pillows were placed quite near each other.

She asked, “Did you delete the photo?”

“Why?”

“Could you send it to me before deleting it?” she said. “I think it turned out quite nicely.”

“…”

–

Early the next morning, after saving her own photo, she set off ahead of schedule.

Today was the opening day of the game exhibition.

The flower shop delivered the roses and gardenias they had ordered. Single pink roses paired with small eucalyptus leaves were gifts for the reserved players; the remaining gardenias were arranged with yellow roses to decorate their booth.

The floral arrangements were handled by a professional florist. She and Li Siyi double-checked the on-site VR experience, playing through it once to ensure everything was correct. By the time they finished, it was already 3 p.m., and the two hadn’t eaten lunch yet.

They picked a nearby restaurant and finished their meal a little after five. When Lu Zhi opened her phone, she noticed Fu Yanshang had sent her a message asking what time she’d be off work.

Lu Zhi replied: 【I have that exhibition today. You can head back first, and we’ll talk after I’m done.】

Twenty minutes later, after paying the bill, she received a second message from Fu Yanshang.

It was a photo of the exhibition hall’s entrance, accompanied by two succinct words: 【Where?】

She had thought he was just casually asking, but when she wandered to the entrance, she found his car parked to the side. She walked over and knocked on the window, expecting him to roll it down. Instead, the car door opened, and he stepped right out.

“What’s up?” she said. “Are you here to try the experience?”

“Just looking around,” he replied. “I can’t be completely in the dark about your work.”

That made sense.  Otherwise, Grandpa might send them off to a love hotel again to “cultivate their relationship.”

Lu Zhi nodded. “Then I’ll show you around. There are quite a few games inside.”

As they stepped in, she suddenly wondered if he should wear a mask or something, but then remembered how seriously he took his privacy. He had never publicly shared any photos, so aside from people possibly staring because he was good-looking, no one would recognize him.

She recalled how, in the beginning, out of curiosity, she had tried searching for him online. “Why are there no photos of you on the internet? Did you have them all removed?”

Seemingly caught off guard by the question, he paused before answering, “One attention-seeker among the three of us is enough.”

…He was probably referring to Jing Chi.

In their social circle, he was only close with Jing Chi and Lu Chengqi. As for this young master Jing, she had even heard her marketing professor talk about him once.

Jing Chi was the first to break the “rich heir” stereotype and step into the public eye.

Before him, the sons and daughters of wealthy families were seen as distant, silver-spooned elites. A few years ago, when the dessert brand “Fangtang,” founded by Jing Chi’s father, faced bankruptcy, Jing Chi and his brother stepped in to save it. They rebranded the classic desserts with a “youthful” label, revamped all product lines, and collaborated with popular IPs. Jing Chi even started a Weibo account titled “Has Little Boss Jing Run Away from Home Today?” where he shared humorous snippets of his daily life, breaking public stereotypes. His popularity soared, and the brand quickly gained traction among younger consumers.

There was a lot she could learn from that.

Lu Zhi asked, “Did Jing Chi intentionally adopt a comedic persona to stand out from other heirs who spend their days skiing and chasing girls? That’s pretty clever.”

“No,” he said. “He’s just naturally a bit clueless.”

“…”

Shedding his usual work formality, he strolled with a relaxed, unhurried ease.

“I don’t think I’ve introduced you to my friends yet,” Fu Yanshang turned and asked, “How about dinner after you’re done here?”

She had no idea how the topic had suddenly veered in this direction. She felt as if something was quietly spreading, but it was hard to pinpoint. Her emotions drifted for just a moment before she nodded and said, “Oh, okay.”