CHAPTER 238: CHAPTER 64: FLOWER GRAVE, BEAUTY’S SMILE (PART 2)

Returning to the country on the same day as Su Ziceng, besides Wen Maixue, were Su Qingzhang and Yan Wuxu. It all seemed coincidental, as if they had arranged it that way.

When Su Ziceng walked out from the boarding gate, she did not expect the Chang Family mother and daughter to come to pick her up, so she could only look for the people from Kelly Women’s College in the airport hall.

"Miss Su Ziceng from flight AC0051244, please come to the baggage claim area to collect your luggage," an announcement repeated in the airport hall.

After hearing French for a month, Su Ziceng’s brain momentarily short-circuited, especially since she didn’t bring any luggage. The broadcast sounded in Su Ziceng’s ears like a reminder to another careless customer with the same name.

The announcement continued tirelessly. After wandering around the hall and still not seeing anyone to pick her up, bored to death, she could only walk toward the baggage claim area.

On the conveyor belt, there was nothing left, only the worn white rubber belt rolling along. Besides that, there stood a ground crew member next to the conveyor belt.

Everyone who passed by would glance at that ground crew member. Next to him, there was a cart full of roses marked with Alsmear flower auction’s logo.

Roses air-freighted from Holland, Su Ziceng secretly praised, wondering which household in Mo City had made such a grand gesture.

If it weren’t for her work at the Subi Auction House, she wouldn’t have known about Alsmear, the most famous flower auction house in the world.

"Are you Miss Su Ziceng?" The ground crew member looked as though he had seen a savior, identifying the socialite of Mo City that had appeared in newspapers. "You’ve finally arrived; these are your flowers, please take them."

So this was the so-called luggage. Su Ziceng looked at the rose cart, surrounded by nine hundred and ninety-nine fresh roses. The purest red, like the most vibrant red bursting out from the human heart. The fragrance of the flowers was dizzying, and her heart beat strongly with excitement.

The ground crew continued to chatter, mentioning that the flowers came on a flight from Holland that arrived concurrently with the one from France, specifically instructed to be delivered today to Miss Su Ziceng to welcome her home.

All other words seemed superfluous when Su Ziceng lifted her head and, through the fiery red roses, heard the suppressed laughter behind her. She didn’t dare turn around.

Guessing at who was behind her, she dared not look back; she questioned the inner Su Ziceng, the one who had endured so much hardship and could not bear any more torment, "Whom do you wish to see?"

As the footsteps behind her drew closer, the silhouette in Su Ziceng’s mind became clearer and clearer. The roses she was holding on the cart trembled slightly. These freshest roses, last night beneath the starry sky of Holland, were now under the sky of Mo City, watching the foreign lovers.

"Welcome back," a voice that sounded as if it still carried a hint of the green of the mailbox phone call, very close by. Su Ziceng turned her head, and in the busy airport hall, Pello stood in front of her.

The mental silhouette was no longer blurry. Su Ziceng opened her arms, cheering and hugging Pello. She knew she had found the right person.

A storm of red roses and lovers reunited after a long separation.

Wen Maixue stood at a distance, watching coldly, viewing those clusters of fiery red roses.

Just a moment earlier, Pello had been welcoming her triumphant return to her homeland, and the next, he would don a lover’s mask, embracing another woman.

It was laughable. Even the airport hall still carried the sweet fragrance of roses. She stared at that cart full of red roses, thinking that Su Ziceng indeed was a shallow woman who could only be coaxed with an entire cart of rose flowers.

Despite knowing all this to be the gentlest trap laid by Pello, that one day Su Ziceng would end up covered in scars, Wen Maixue still couldn’t help but feel jealous.

An entire cart of roses was indeed rather bothersome for Su Ziceng, who ended up calling the Su Family’s driver to take them all away in one go.

For the "romance" Pello brought, Su Ziceng was somewhat unable to digest it at once, even though, on the streets of Champs Elysees, after speaking with this man on the phone dozens of times, she had already developed a sort of tacit understanding between lovers.

"Such a waste," complained Su Ziceng, a typical example of a woman’s duplicity.

"I have heard you on the phone, sighing over the beauty of ’Flower Capital’ Paris, more than once," Pello remembered the words she mentioned in passing, and this attentiveness made Su Ziceng feel quite pleased.

"Some day, I should just move to France," Su Ziceng mused as she savored Paris’s fine food and scenery, inadvertently letting that comment slip. Only after speaking did she realize the ambiguity of her words; Pello’s homeland was in France, so if she meant settling down in France, wasn’t that tantamount to saying she would marry him?

So did he agree or not? Su Ziceng lifted her head to check Pello’s expression at that moment.

Feeling slightly uncomfortable for an instant, Su Ziceng felt the hand holding hers tighten. Could it be that he was unwilling? At that moment, Su Ziceng was a bit nervous. When she had decided to give up Hang Yishao, she had already prepared herself for a life with another man—perhaps she lacked self-confidence, or maybe she was trying to pursue a completely new happiness.

"Okay," Pello’s reply let the heart that Su Ziceng had raised fall back down. In the next moment, she retorted, as if petulantly: "I didn’t say it was with you."

Pello laughed helplessly as the Su Family’s chauffeured vehicle arrived. Even the driver was shocked upon seeing that small cart of roses, not knowing how to bring them back without damage.

"I brought them from Paris, France," Su Ziceng fibbed, and the driver didn’t believe her no matter what, as the young man standing behind the young mistress made her lie even less plausible.

As Su Ziceng directed the driver on how to arrange the flowers up front, Pello’s eyes drifted away, feeling an unprecedented weight in his heart upon agreeing with that "Okay."

This was not Pello’s first time lying. In fact, throughout his life of over twenty years, he had told countless lies, so why did his heart feel so heavy this time?(To be continued. If you like this work, welcome to Qidian (qidian.com) to vote with your recommendation tickets and monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation.)