"Is this Ms. Song Xiaodai...
A vibration came from the phone on the table, snapping Song Guanyu out of that lingering dream.
She patted her flushed cheeks, then pressed both hands over her heart, clumsily trying to calm the thunderous beating in her chest—but it only grew stronger.
It kept reminding her of the deep, entwined kiss she and Ye Yansheng had shared in the wardrobe that morning—a kiss that made her blush and her heart leap with joy.
The spacious, quiet living room was no longer silent; there was the faint sound of Song Guanyu laughing softly.
She felt as if she had been poisoned by a man named Ye Yansheng, unable to stop savoring the memory. Her fingertips trembled as they touched her lower lip, only to be burned away, as if the scorching warmth of Ye Yansheng's lips still lingered there.
That feeling made Song Guanyu feel as if she had stepped into a barren land, parched with thirst, her bare feet treading on cracked, desolate, scorching sand. In the distance, amidst the swirling yellow dust, a figure emerged. He walked slowly toward her and extended his hand, holding the water she had been longing for.
She eagerly took it and gulped it down, finally saved.
Song Guanyu pressed her hand harder against her heart, thinking to herself,
'Stop beating. If you keep this up, I'll think I have a heart condition.'
After a moment, she wiped her hand with a tissue before casually picking up her phone and unlocking it. It was a message from Ye Yansheng.
Dr. Ye the Nag: [Hello, Song Xiaodai, have you finished breakfast? Dog greeting.jpg]
Ever since they had added each other on WeChat, Ye Yansheng had always started his messages with 'Hello,' while Song Guanyu liked to reply with cat stickers. But today, for some reason, Ye Yansheng had started using dog stickers.
At first, Song Guanyu thought it was just his polite greeting because they weren't familiar with each other, and she gradually followed suit. Over time, she had even begun to resemble him in her replies.
People said that after marriage, as time passed, couples would gradually overlap in small details, influencing each other.
She had been married to him for a while now, yet Ye Yansheng still habitually used those two words as an opening. She let out a soft breath, her eyes curving as she looked at the content on her phone. The glass display cabinet across the dining table reflected a face.
A face beaming brightly, as if it had been soaked in a jar of honey.
A wave of sweetness washed over Song Guanyu. She inexplicably felt that Ye Yansheng had a contrasting side to him.
They had both started with 'Hello,' one using stickers, the other not. Now, Song Guanyu also liked to use 'Hello,' while Ye Yansheng would reply with words followed by a dog sticker.
She couldn't help but grumble inwardly: he had kissed her so fiercely, yet in private, he was so polite!
But... it was... kind of... cute.
A smile tugged at the corners of Song Guanyu's lips.
She felt as if she were treading on a soft layer of clouds, her mouth tasting like cotton candy, so sweet that she wanted to write something to vent her joy. She wanted to scream loudly in the house, run eagerly in the rain, hug and kiss all her cute musical instruments one by one, and spin around playing the guitar in a dance.
The cold light of the phone screen reflected in her eyes, sparkling.
She scrolled down to another message.
Dr. Ye the Nag: [What happened this morning was my fault. I shouldn't have kissed you without your permission, but I couldn't help it at that moment. I'm really sorry. Dog apologizing.jpg] After sending this, he added another line.
Dr. Ye the Nag: [But next time, I'll ask for permission. If you prefer me to be gentle, I'll kiss you gently. I'll be more careful from now on. Okay, I'm off to my consultation now, Song Xiaodai. Remember to sign for the flowers and wear a mask when you open the door. Dog patting head.jpg]
Flowers? Ye Yansheng was sending her flowers?
Just as Song Guanyu was about to reply, the doorbell suddenly rang. She immediately got up, tossing her phone onto the table, which made a loud thud.
She didn't even notice the change in her own heart. It had happened in the moment of her heart fluttering—a seed had already been planted, waiting to take root, sprout, and eventually intertwine inseparably.
Bouncing excitedly, she ran to the door to sign for the delivery. It must be the flowers Ye Yansheng had sent. But as she hurried to the entrance and touched the doorknob, she suddenly remembered Ye Yansheng's reminder: she wasn't wearing a mask.
So Song Guanyu quickly ran back to the living room, rummaged through drawers, found a mask and sunglasses, put them on, and tidied herself up. Then, panting, she ran to the door and opened it.
The door opened.
Outside stood a woman, the flower delivery person. When she saw the visitor wrapped up so tightly that nothing was visible, her initial smile froze on her lips. She turned to look outside—the sun was scorching—but the fact that someone was so diligent about sun protection even at home impressed her.
The florist's smile carried a hint of confusion: "Is this Ms. Song Xiaodai?" She needed to confirm the recipient, and this young lady was indeed very well-covered.
Song Guanyu lowered her voice and murmured, "Mm-hmm, I am."
"This is the 'Fairy's Kiss' that Mr. Ye Yansheng sent for you. Please sign for it."
After taking the pen and paper from her and signing, Song Guanyu said in a soft voice, "Thank you." The florist handed her a bouquet of barely-open pink roses.
"You're welcome," the florist said, turning to leave. But Song Guanyu called her back. The florist saw her gently set the flowers aside, then disappear inside. She was about to wonder what was going on when the well-covered lady reappeared and handed her a bottle of cold water.
"Thank you for your hard work. It's hot outside—make sure you don't get heatstroke," Song Guanyu said.
The florist thought to herself, 'What a thoughtful and considerate girl.'
The florist was a straightforward woman. She gladly accepted the water, twisted open the cap, and took a few sips. It was ice-cold.
The two of them chatted casually.
She smiled at Song Guanyu. "Thank you! By the way, are you always this meticulous?"
Song Guanyu was caught off guard. "Huh?" She looked down at her outfit and realized what the florist meant, so she quickly agreed. "Oh, yes. Us girls are afraid of getting tanned."
"True," the florist said, twisting the cap back on. She chatted like an old friend. "Is Dr. Ye your boyfriend?"
Seeing Song Guanyu's silence, she quickly explained, "Don't misunderstand. My shop is right at the entrance of your neighborhood. My father was sick before, and Dr. Ye performed his surgery. Our whole family is very grateful to him. I didn't mean anything else."
By now, the fragrance of the flowers had completely enveloped Song Guanyu's senses. Ye Yansheng was quite romantic.
She was floating on air. Hearing that her Dr. Ye had helped this florist's family, she felt a swell of pride and blurted out, "I'm married to Dr. Ye." Wanting to bask in the sweetness, she added, "It's been a while."
But as soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted it—because she saw the shock on the florist's face. Oh no! She hadn't lowered her voice just now. Could the woman have recognized her? Was her secret marriage about to be exposed? If she asked if she was Song Guanyu, how should she answer...