"No need," Iris replied at once. "The bus will be here any moment."
She did, in fact, own an electric scooter, but the rain had kept her from riding it.
Then the thought struck her—
How didAdrianknow where her flower shop was?
The autumn rain was coming down hard, soaking the hem of her pale green dress and the ends of her hair.
The temperature hovered barely above ten degrees, yet she wore only a thin knit cardigan over her long green dress.
It was obvious she was freezing, trembling with cold.
So this was what they meant by choosing elegance over warmth.
For once,Adrianlost patience. His tone left no room for debate. "Get in the car."
His temperament was cool and distant, yet when he said this, there was a quiet authority in his voice—gentle, but compelling.
So Iris , dazed, reached for the back door. It didn't open.
FuAdriansighed. "Sit in the front."
She opened the passenger door and slipped inside.
With a long reach, he fetched a coat from the back seat and tossed it to her. "It's clean."
He traveled often, so he always kept spare clothes in the car.
The coat fell over her completely, enveloping her in his crisp scent—cold pine, sharp and clean, overwhelming her senses.
She sat frozen, stunned into stillness.
What was this? A dream?
She pinched her thigh hard enough to bring tears to her eyes.
No. It was real.
Slowly, she lowered the coat, revealing only her fair, delicate face.
The car settled into a long, heavy silence.
Her usual quick tongue had deserted her.
After a long struggle, she managed only two words. "Thank you."
He replied in equal brevity. "Don't mention it."
"Um…" Iris hesitated. The words she was about to say sounded suspiciously like flirtation, yet she couldn't suppress them. "Won't your girlfriend mind?"
"Girlfriend?" He paused—
Then realized who she meant. "She isn't my girlfriend."
"Oh." Iris blinked, relieved by the correction, and said nothing more.
When they reached Floral Arcadia, she stared at the beige coat in her arms for several seconds before deciding, "I'll wash it and return it to you."
"All right," he said easily.
She hesitated, then asked, "How did you know I opened a flower shop? And the exact location?"
"My memory's not that poor," he answered, turning to her. A faint smile touched his lips—rare, understated. "Thank you for the umbrella that day, Miss Hyacinth."
She caught the two key words instantly—
Umbrella.
Hyacinth.
Two years ago.
So he remembered her from two years ago.
Even without knowing her name, he had held on to that image of her—cool, distant, yet gently calling her Miss Hyacinth.
On the very day she had decided to forget him.
Iris didn't know whether to feel amused or heartbroken. She muttered under her breath, "What a terrible memory."
He arched a brow, unsure he'd heard correctly. "What was that?"
"Nothing," she said with a quick smile. "Thank you for the ride. I'll get going."
She reached for the door—
Only to feel her wrist caught once again.
Heat rushed to her skin, freezing her in place.
Fortunately, he released her almost immediately and picked up his phone. "How exactly do you plan to return the coat?"
"Ah?" she blinked slowly.
He looked at her, half exasperated. "whatsapp?"
"Oh." Her soul finally returned to her body.
They exchanged contacts.Adrianasked, almost casually, "What will you set as my remark?"
"You already know."
He lifted his eyes, puzzled.
"My name," she said, her brows curving, her smile bright and sly. "Miss Hyacinth."
"All right," Adrian said after a moment, tilting his head with a rare, soft laugh. "My remark will be 'Adrian.'"
The girl's eyes held an emotion he could not decipher. For a few quiet seconds, he heard her murmur softly, praising, "Hmm, such a beautiful name."
She called him by his name, awkwardly, yet sincerely: "Adrian."
Hearing her speak his name stirred something tender deep within him—an unexpected warmth, as if he had been quietly yearning for this moment all along.
——
Back at Floral Arcadia, Chun and Tao quickly surrounded her, chattering excitedly in sign language.
Chun signed eagerly, "Boss, the man who just brought you here—is he your blind date today?"
Iris shook her head vigorously.
Of course, she would never equate Adrian with that arrogant Englishman.
Tao shot Chun a disdainful look and signed, "Idiot! That man is obviously our future boss-husband!"
Chun pouted, indignant: "Isn't a blind date supposed to be the future boss-husband?"
Tao rolled her eyes. "A blind date is not automatically the future boss-husband!"
And so the two of them bickered in animated gestures.
Iris felt her eyes ache from watching their squabble.
Her mind was still buzzing from the day's events, so she lifted the gauzy curtain and walked into the lounge.
She collapsed onto the swing chair, sinking into its woven embrace, and closed her eyes, drifting into a peaceful, unknowing slumber.
Chun and Tao tiptoed over to cover her with a blanket, then moved a little further away to continue their animated debate.
Outside, the autumn rain washed over the corners of Cuiwu Street, the chimes at the door tinkled in the wind, and the mingling fragrance of flowers transported Iris back to a midsummer night sixteen years ago.
That year, she was in the second year of high school. The Jingbei Affiliated School had organized a fireworks evening on that midsummer night.
Uniforms were not required. While the other girls fretted over which pretty dresses to wear, Iris rested her chin in her hand, pondering what flowers to give her friends that evening.
A warm, sultry breeze blew through the summer air. She squinted, deciding that the pomegranate flowers, in full bloom, were perfect for the occasion.
"It'll be too late… it'll be too late…" She murmured to herself that evening, clutching a large bouquet of freshly picked pomegranate blossoms as she ran toward Swan Lake, whispering under her breath, "This one for Sister, this one for Xiaoqing, and this one for the cafeteria aunt…"
But failing to watch her path led to disaster—
Bang!
She collided head-on with an unyielding "wall," pain shooting through her and tears spilling instantly.
Worse yet, the bouquet flew from her arms, tumbling to the ground.
"Oh no—my pomegranate flowers!" she cried in dismay.
But fortunately, the "wall" seemed to have hands.
A strong, large hand swept through the air, catching the falling bouquet with ease.
Iris exhaled in relief, whispering softly, "Tha—"
Her words faltered as she looked up at the face before her. Her eyes widened with awe, a spark of astonishment crossing her gaze.
A boy, exquisitely beautiful and vividly alive.
The corner of his lips curved into a smile, a deep dimple imprinting his left cheek.
He raised his brow and asked playfully, "Your pomegranate flowers?"
Such a melodious voice.
Iris nodded like a little automaton, utterly captivated.