Neither man moved.
I picked up my scissors again and returned to the hydrangeas.
Mrs. Zhang finally couldn’t resist.
“Gentlemen, she said goodbye.”
Su Hang’s expression darkened.
“Su Yan, we came all the way from Beicheng.”
I clipped another leaf.
“That sounds expensive.”
His face stiffened.
“But it has nothing to do with me.”
Gu Yanzhou suddenly placed the bouquet back on the counter.
“We didn’t know you were here.”
I looked at the white roses I’d spent ten minutes arranging.
“Then congratulations.”
“For what?”
“You’ve solved the mystery.”
I pushed the bouquet toward him.
“Your flowers.”
They didn’t leave immediately.
That surprised me.
Six years earlier, people like Gu Yanzhou and Su Hang never waited for me.
I waited for them.
Outside conference rooms.
At family dinners.
At hospitals.
At the engagement banquet where Gu Yanzhou publicly told me I wasn’t worthy of becoming his wife.
But now they stood inside my tiny flower shop while I ignored them.
Eventually, Su Hang asked:
“Why didn’t you contact us?”
I finally raised my head.
“Why would I?”
“We’re family.”
That word almost made me laugh.
“Six years ago, you told me never to return to the Su family.”
His lips tightened.
“You remember that?”
“Should I have forgotten?”
“I was angry.”
“You packed my luggage.”
Silence.
“You canceled my bank card.”
His face changed.
“You told the driver to leave me at the station.”
Mrs. Zhang stopped pretending not to listen.
I continued calmly:
“You were extremely organized for someone who was merely angry.”
“Su Yan…”
“I had 1,240 yuan when I left Beicheng.”
He stared at me.
“I know exactly how much because I counted it in a train-station bathroom.”
For the first time, my brother couldn’t look at me.
Gu Yanzhou spoke next.
“The engagement was more complicated than you knew.”
“Probably.”
“You don’t want to hear why?”
“No.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You used to demand explanations.”
“I used to love you.”
That silenced him.
I tied another ribbon around a bouquet.
“People change.”
They finally left.
But the next morning, the Maybach returned.
This time Su Hang came alone.
He bought sunflowers.
Three hundred yuan.
The next day, Gu Yanzhou bought lilies.
Four hundred and twenty.
On Friday, they both appeared again.
I started wondering whether rich people in Beicheng had suddenly developed an obsession with flowers.
On the seventh visit, I put down my scissors.
“What exactly do you want?”
Su Hang answered first.
“Come home.”
“No.”
“Father is sick.”
My hand stopped.
Only briefly.
“What happened?”
“His heart.”
I lowered my eyes.
Six years ago, my father hadn’t stopped Su Hang from throwing me out.
He had sat in the study and said:
“Perhaps leaving for a while will teach you humility.”
Six years apparently qualified as a while.
“I hope he recovers.”
“That’s all?”
“What else should there be?”
“He wants to see you.”
I shook my head.
“Then he can recover first.”
Su Hang stared at me.
“You really hate us.”
“No.”
I smiled faintly.
“Hate requires more energy than I’m willing to spend.”
That afternoon, Gu Yanzhou remained after Su Hang left.
He placed an old velvet box on my counter.
I recognized it immediately.
The engagement ring.
“I kept it.”
I continued arranging carnations.
“You shouldn’t have.”
“I never married.”
“That also has nothing to do with me.”
“Su Yan.”
Something in his voice made me finally look up.
“I was wrong.”
Six years earlier, I would have given anything to hear those words.
Now they arrived between buckets of chrysanthemums and roses while a ceiling fan squeaked above us.
Too late.
“What were you wrong about?”
He swallowed.
“Believing them.”
My fingers stopped.
“The night before our engagement ended, your brother showed me documents proving you’d sold confidential Su Group information to a competitor.”
I frowned.
“I never did that.”
“I know.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“When did you find out?”
“Three months after you disappeared.”
I stared at him.
Three months.
He had known for five years and nine months.
“And you didn’t find me?”
“I tried.”
“Not very hard.”
Pain flashed across his face.
“You changed your number. You didn’t use your bank accounts. There was no record—”
“Gu Yanzhou.”
I interrupted gently.
“You own companies on three continents.”
He became silent.
“If you had truly wanted to find me, you would have.”
He had no answer.
The next revelation came from Su Hang.
He returned carrying a folder.
“I framed you.”
I looked at him.
There was no dramatic reaction left inside me.
Only exhaustion.
“Why?”
His fingers tightened around the folder.
“Because Father planned to transfer twelve percent of Su Group to you after your marriage.”
Now I understood.
Su Hang had always believed the company belonged to him.
I had never wanted it.
But apparently that hadn’t mattered.
“You thought I’d compete with you.”
“Yes.”
“So you created evidence that I leaked company information.”
He nodded.
“And Gu Yanzhou broke the engagement.”
Another nod.
“And you convinced Dad to send me away.”
His voice dropped.
“Yes.”
I laughed once.
Quietly.
“All because of twelve percent.”
“No.”
He looked miserable.
“Because I was afraid.”
“That doesn’t improve it.”
“I know.”
Then he pushed the folder toward me.
“Those shares were never mine.”
I didn’t touch it.
“What?”
“Father discovered what I’d done three months later.”
The same time Gu Yanzhou learned the truth.
“He removed the twelve percent from the succession plan.”
“Good.”
“No, Su Yan.”
Su Hang looked directly at me.
“He transferred them into a trust.”
My smile vanished.
“In your name.”
I stared at him.
“You’ve been the beneficial owner for almost six years.”
I didn’t return to Beicheng immediately.
I hired a lawyer.
Then an accountant.
Then another independent adviser.
For the first time, nobody was going to explain my own life to me and expect blind trust.
The documents were real.
The trust existed.
Distributions had accumulated for years.
The amount attached to my name was more money than my flower shop could earn in several lifetimes.
I sat behind the counter staring at the report.
Mrs. Zhang leaned over.
“Are you rich?”
“Apparently.”
“How rich?”
I told her.
She stared at me for five seconds.
Then pointed toward her noodle shop.
“You’re still paying for lunch.”
I burst out laughing.
I eventually returned to Beicheng.
Not because Su Hang asked.
Not because Gu Yanzhou waited.
Because I wanted answers from my father.
He looked much older.
When I entered his hospital room, tears immediately appeared in his eyes.
“Yan Yan.”
I hadn’t heard that name in six years.
“Why didn’t you bring me back after learning the truth?”
His face crumpled.
“I was ashamed.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
He closed his eyes.
Finally, he admitted it.
He had believed that after what happened, asking me to return would force him to acknowledge publicly that the Su family had destroyed an innocent daughter’s reputation.
So he chose silence.
He protected the family name.
Again.
I nodded.
At least the answer was truthful.
“I forgive you,” I said.
His eyes opened.
“But I’m not coming home.”
I kept the shares.
Not because I wanted Su Group.
Because they were mine.
I appointed professionals to represent my interests and returned south.
Gu Yanzhou came to Luxi one final time.
He brought no flowers.
No ring.
No Maybach either.
He walked from the station.
“I won’t ask you to marry me.”
“Good.”
He smiled sadly.
“I came to apologize without expecting anything.”
That was the first apology from him I could accept.
So I did.
Then he left.
Two years later, No Problems expanded.
Not into a luxury chain.
I didn’t want that.
I bought the neighboring storefront and added a greenhouse and workshop where local teenagers could learn floral design during summer.
Mrs. Zhang complained that my customers kept blocking her noodle-shop entrance.
I complained that her customers stole my stools.
It was perfect.
Su Hang visited occasionally.
Our relationship never returned to what it had been.
But slowly, carefully, we built something new.
Not brother and sister pretending six years hadn’t happened.
Two adults acknowledging that they had.
One summer afternoon, another black car stopped outside.
Mrs. Zhang immediately leaned from her shop.
“Xiao Su! Beicheng people again!”
I laughed.
Su Hang entered carrying a little girl’s hand.
His daughter.
She ran toward the hydrangeas.
“Auntie, I want flowers for Grandma!”
I crouched.
“What kind?”
“The prettiest ones.”
“That will be expensive.”
She looked terrified.
“How much?”
I pretended to calculate.
“Three hundred and eighty yuan.”
Behind her, Su Hang froze.
I looked at him.
He remembered.
Of course he remembered.
Six years earlier, he had walked into this shop believing he could bring his sister home.
Instead, he discovered she’d built one without him.
His daughter placed four crumpled hundred-yuan notes on my counter.
I returned twenty.
Then I wrapped the flowers.
As I handed them over, Su Hang quietly asked:
“Do you ever regret staying here?”
I looked outside.
At Mrs. Zhang arguing with a customer.
At my greenhouse glowing beneath the afternoon sun.
At the sign above the door.
NO PROBLEMS.
Then I thought about Beicheng.
The mansion.
The engagement.
The twelve percent.
Everything I’d once believed defined my worth.
“No.”
I smiled.
“Getting thrown out was the worst thing that happened to me.”
I placed the bouquet in his daughter’s arms.
“And eventually, the best.”
Because six years earlier, my family had taken away my home, my engagement and my name in their world.
They thought they had left me with nothing.
They were wrong.
They had left me with myself.
And once I learned how much that was worth, even a fortune couldn’t persuade me to give it back.
