The Twilight Does Not Stain the Rose - Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Pansy (I)

On the second day of November, the cold arrived cloaked in a drizzling rain—a pitter-patter that blurred the late autumn into a painting.

At ten o’clock in the morning, Zhuang Baiwei walked to “Today is Good” under her umbrella to clock in. An awning had been set up outside the flower shop; raindrops hit it, shattering into a crystalline curtain before gathering into puddles on the ground. Beneath the light-grey veil of rain, several pots of bright, beautiful pansies sat in neat rows on a wooden shelf. These had been pre-ordered by a customer on opening day; who would have thought they would bloom so magnificently after just one night?

Shortly after she arrived, Zhou Xiaofeng began packing the pansies and arranged for Zhou Xiaotong to contact a delivery runner.

“Weiwei-jie,” Zhou Xiaofeng called out to her, “you’re just in time. Could you help me write two gift cards?”

Zhuang Baiwei readily agreed. Matching the colors of the pansies, she selected several sheets of macaron-colored cardstock. “Did the customer specify the content?”

“No!” Zhou Xiaofeng said. “But it’s a gift from the customer to a friend. It seems to be a parting gift.”

Zhuang Baiwei thought for a moment and nodded. “Alright, I understand.”

Because of Zhou Xiaofeng’s two years of experience running a flower shop, Zhuang Baiwei had seen many different kinds of flowers on her friend’s social media feed and had some impression of the “language of flowers.”

Pansies represent “thoughts” and “waiting.” She figured that was likely why the customer chose them as a parting gift for a friend.

Zhuang Baiwei walked to the bookstore next door, took a fountain pen from the counter, and began to write the message:

Dear Friend,

This is a Pansy. It is a practical flower where the entire plant possesses medicinal value. It is cold-resistant, loves the sun, and is easy to keep alive.

So, as we part ways, I give it to you as a gift, hoping you can grow happily in the sunshine just like it. The language of the pansy is “missing someone” and “waiting.” Therefore, I hope that when you see it, you will think of me and wait for the day we meet again.

The night before, Shen Shuhao had spoken with the doctor. The doctor had prescribed a small amount of medication with sedative properties to help Jiang Muchen get some proper rest. Consequently, news of Jiang Muchen waking up didn’t arrive until after three in the afternoon.

Zhuang Baiwei set down her teacup, closing “Today is Good Tea Art” early. Before leaving, she noticed a single pot of light-blue pansies left outside the flower shop. Zhou Xiaofeng usually ordered extras just in case of accidents; today, besides the pre-ordered ones, several pots had been sold, leaving only this one.

She immediately picked it up, informed Zhou Xiaofeng, and headed to the hospital.

When she arrived, Jiang Muchen was just finishing packing her things. Seeing her enter with the pansies, Shen Shuhao was pleasantly surprised. “What kind of flower is this? It’s so beautiful.”

Zhuang Baiwei stepped forward with a smile and handed them over. Once the other woman had a firm grip, she said, “This is a pansy. There was one left in the shop, so I brought it along to celebrate Muchen being discharged.”

The moment that “Muchen” left her lips, she noticed Jiang Muchen’s movements visibly stiffen.

“Oh, it’s truly beautiful. Thank you, Weiwei. You’ve been so busy helping us and you even brought flowers. This is the first time I’ve seen a light-blue pansy; it’s gorgeous. Weiwei, you are so thoughtful~”

Shen Shuhao held the pansies in her arms, her eyes unwilling to look away; she clearly adored them.

Zhuang Baiwei’s smile was radiant. “As long as you like them, Auntie, that’s what matters most.”

She tilted her head toward the hospital bed. Jiang Muchen had already changed into the clothes she had brought—the white hoodie and pants set. She stepped forward and asked softly, “How are you feeling? Any better?”

Her things were almost all packed. Jiang Muchen didn’t look up, replying while pulling up a zipper, “Much better, thank you—”

She paused abruptly. Her hand lost its grip, and the zipper zipped all the way to the top with a sharp, discordant sound. Likely startled by her own action, she hurriedly said, “Th-thank you, Miss Zhuang.”

Her voice was very soft, even stumbling.

Shen Shuhao, listening from behind, couldn’t help but let out a small “Aiya.” “Why are you still calling her Miss Zhuang? It sounds so distant.”

Jiang Muchen stiffened again, her pupils trembling and a red tint rising to her ears. It was the vivid personification of a startled small animal.

Zhuang Baiwei suppressed the urge to laugh and said, “It’s alright, Auntie. I know Muchen is just shy with strangers. Once we’re familiar, the address will change naturally.”

She spoke with intimacy, which warmed Shen Shuhao’s heart. “Yes, our Xiao Chen is just too introverted. When she goes to the shop in the future, I’ll have to trouble Weiwei to look after her a bit more.”

They had talked the previous night. Jiang Muchen’s rekindled inspiration was almost certainly because of “Today is Good.” So, Zhuang Baiwei had suggested that, if possible, Jiang Muchen should “clock in” at the shop every day as if going to work. Perhaps living a disciplined life in an environment she liked would help her find her inspiration again.

Shen Shuhao had agreed without much thought. It turned out that during these three months back in the country, besides the initial period handling the father’s funeral, Jiang Muchen had spent all her time cooped up in her studio. Her eating and sleeping habits were no longer regular. Previously, for the sake of her work, she would wake up early every day for a morning run regardless of the weather. Now, she didn’t leave the house at all; Shen Shuhao was terrified that Jiang Muchen’s health would fail.

As soon as the words were spoken, in her peripheral vision, she saw Jiang Muchen’s eyes downcast and her expression tense. It seemed she already knew about this arrangement—and was quite unwilling.

Zhuang Baiwei smiled and said to Shen Shuhao, “Don’t worry, Auntie. I really like Muchen’s white rose ornament. I’d love to see more work from such a talented designer.”

On the way home, she turned on the stereo. Gentle piano music wafted through the car. Shen Shuhao, in the back seat, was surprised: “Weiwei, you like piano music too?”

Zhuang Baiwei smiled and said softly, “A friend recommended it. It really is quite pleasant to listen to.”

In the passenger seat, Jiang Muchen looked over but said nothing.

Shen Shuhao smiled as well. “It just so happens our Xiao Chen likes it too. You have another topic in common.”

The car stopped beneath the apartment building. Just as they were about to get out, the silent Jiang Muchen suddenly turned to the back seat. “Mom, you go up first. I have something I want to say to Miss Zhuang.”

After Shen Shuhao left, silence lingered in the car for a long time. Feeling the thickening hesitation and tension from the person beside her, Zhuang Baiwei took the initiative: “Regarding the suggestion to come work at ‘Today is Good,’ what are your thoughts?”

Suddenly, Jiang Muchen looked up, her eyes wide with surprise. She seemed shocked that her thoughts had been seen through.

Zhuang Baiwei chuckled, finally unable to help herself: “Muchen, has anyone ever told you that your emotions are actually written all over your face? If someone pays even a little attention, they can guess what you’re thinking.”

These words touched a nerve in Jiang Muchen; she stared straight ahead, as if through Zhuang Baiwei, she was remembering someone or something else. But quickly, she reeled in her stray thoughts, gathered her courage, and said, “I felt that… Miss Zhuang doesn’t like me.”

Her brow was slightly furrowed—not with sadness, but with certainty.

“So, perhaps my mother is just being too worried. Miss Zhuang, you don’t have to force yourself.”

“Also, regarding the acute gastroenteritis yesterday… it was actually because I liked that meal so much that it happened. Miss Zhuang, you don’t need to feel guilty about it.”

“On the contrary, I troubled you. Thank you for getting me to the hospital in time, and thank you for your hard work, making so many trips for me.”

This level of perceptiveness and sense of boundaries caught Zhuang Baiwei by surprise. The blood in her body suddenly ran hot, surging through her entire frame; she almost broke into a sweat.

Right—she had forgotten. Introverted people are often much more perceptive of the outside world because they are constantly on guard to protect themselves. Previously, because of old memories, her loss of composure had been quite obvious. Jiang Muchen must have sensed it from the very beginning and confirmed it through her subsequent probing.

Zhuang Baiwei felt a wave of regret. Truly, when it comes to apologies, earlier is better than later.

“Miss Jiang,” she began, the habitual easy smile fading from her face, replaced by great solemnity. “I’m sorry.”

Hearing this, Jiang Muchen looked up in shock, wanting to speak but stopping because of the look in Zhuang Baiwei’s eyes.

“This apology should have been said a long time ago, but when I realized it, it wasn’t a good time.”

“Because of personal reasons, when I met you for the first time, you reminded me of an old acquaintance.”

“Things between us did not end pleasantly, and—” At this point, Zhuang Baiwei lowered her eyes slightly. “—and it left me with a bit of a shadow.”

She curved her lips, but there was no mirth in the smile. “Even though many years have passed, I’m still a bit jumpy. My mother arranged this blind date because I haven’t established a relationship with someone new in a long time, whether it be romance or friendship.”

“That fragile, melancholic air about you is very similar to hers. So, I judged you by your appearance and grouped you with her. I am truly sorry.”

Finally speaking this pent-up apology made Zhuang Baiwei feel much lighter. She let out a soft sigh, raised her eyes, and a faint smile touched her lips. “So, Muchen, I don’t dislike you.”

“When I said I liked your gift, it was true. My desire to help you find your inspiration is also true.”

“You are excellent—a very talented jewelry designer.”

“When I went to your house yesterday, I saw the drawings in your studio. I saw your pain and struggle, but even more, I felt your passion.”

Sensing the other woman’s expression soften, Zhuang Baiwei changed the subject. “Do you remember the short girl at the coffee shop counter that day?”

Jiang Muchen nodded. “I remember.”

“She was once a fan of mine—a fan who started supporting me the year I debuted.” Zhuang Baiwei smiled, her gaze becoming distant as if remembering the past. “During my lowest point, she was the one who didn’t give up on me, using every way she could to comfort me.”

She looked at Jiang Muchen, her smile deepening, radiant and dazzling. “So, perhaps you can see me as your fan. My actions are simply based on the mindset of a fan who wants to help a designer she likes continue to create.”

“Muchen,” she called out softly, “keep it up, okay?”

In her gaze, Jiang Muchen’s eyes gradually reddened as if she might cry at any moment, but she didn’t. Instead, she nodded and said softly, “Okay.”

Her brow was slightly pinched, but the corners of her mouth were turned up; she looked like she wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. Her fingers were clenched tightly together as if she were enduring the urge to weep. She likely didn’t want to cry in front of someone else.

So, Zhuang Baiwei said, “Then—”

“Muchen.”

“See you tomorrow.”

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