Chapter 53: 052 A Pot of Orchids for the Girl

My dad acted fast; by the afternoon of the next day, Fang Qingye received his call saying everything was settled—tell your classmate’s uncle to bring his son directly to Chengguan Middle School for registration at the start of term, no need to worry about anything else.

Fang Qingye immediately called Wang Lei with the news; Wang Lei, naturally overjoyed on the phone, insisted on bringing his uncle to Fang Qingye’s home to thank him, but Fang Qingye refused.

“Don’t come, absolutely don’t come, Wang Lei—this is a special time, you understand… and this matter is known only to you, me, and your uncle—don’t tell anyone else.” Fang Qingye added.

“Don’t worry, I’ve worked in the countryside for a year—I know the drill, won’t cause you or your dad any trouble… I’ll definitely thank you properly when I have time!”

They chatted a few more minutes, then hung up.

After work that afternoon, Fang Qingye didn’t stay home; after dinner, he headed straight to his grandfather’s nursery—two days ago, Nanxin had been hit by a typhoon, and he wanted to check for damage.

Besides, the atmosphere at home was clearly unbearable.

Fang Qingye turned the corner at the intersection on his scooter, heading northeast. After more than ten minutes, he arrived at Siji Nursery, rode straight in, and spotted a girl, Bai Ou, in the orchid section.

She was wearing a short skirt, her legs dazzlingly white.

She was repotting an orchid; hearing the motorcycle, she looked up, saw Fang Qingye riding over, and her eyes lit up into crescents.

“Ye Zi, here to see your grandparents?”

“Yeah, there was a typhoon a couple days ago—any damage?” Fang Qingye replied, parking his scooter beside Bai Ou.

“None at all—I asked your grandfather.” The girl said.

“Good. What are you doing?” Fang Qingye asked.

“Repotting orchids.” Bai Ou replied, returning to her work.

“You come often?”

“Yes, lately I’ve been coming every afternoon,” the girl said. “You know I love plants.”

True enough.

Bai Ou had loved flowers since childhood; originally, she planned to apply to the horticulture program at China Agricultural University, but her father adamantly opposed it:

Either become a teacher by studying education, or study law like her uncle and join the court or prosecutor’s office.

Bai Ou was a obedient girl, so she chose law, got into East China University of Political Science and Law—but never gave up her love for plants.

Fang Qingye sat on his scooter watching the girl work, then said: “You’re repotting orchids now? That’s not the right time.”

Though he didn’t understand orchids like his grandfather or Bai Ou, he knew the basics—orchids are repotted mainly in spring; summer’s heat and humidity put them in semi-dormancy, and repotting risks root rot and plant death.

“I know, but I want to take it back to school and keep it in my dorm when term starts,” the girl replied.

“Then let me help.” Fang Qingye parked his scooter, crouched beside her, and helped steady the pot.

“This orchid is called Lianban Orchid—look, don’t the petals resemble lotus flowers?” The girl extended her pale hand, gently stroking the petals.

They truly did resemble lotus flowers, blooming vividly.

“I heard from your grandfather this is a rare orchid variety—very expensive,” the girl added.

Fang Qingye snorted.

Expensive?

Just hype!

Especially the past two years, orchids in Jinghai were wildly inflated—any orchid with even a slight unique trait was sold for astronomical prices, with specimens routinely priced at millions.

That butterfly orchid? Once sold for 100,000 RMB; now it’s worth barely a hundred yuan.

Seeing Bai Ou’s careful movements, sweat already on her face, Fang Qingye chuckled softly: “Stop repotting—just take the whole pot.”

“No, your grandfather said he’s going to sell it.”

“Ignore him—this flower’s worthless now… I’ll tell Grandpa. Take a break.”

Bai Ou had crouched repotting for nearly half an hour; her legs were numb. Hearing this, she stood up, brushing the dirt off her hands.

Fang Qingye pushed his scooter toward his grandparents’ simple hut, when suddenly his phone in his loose shorts pocket rang—not a ringtone, but a QQ video call alert!

“Bai Ou, grab my phone and see who it is.”

The girl immediately pulled the phone from his pocket, glanced, and said: “Liu Dong. He wants a voice chat, and Song Daha.”

“Answer it.”

Bai Ou pressed answer and turned on speakerphone; Liu Dong’s excited voice came through.

“Ye Zi, Daha, what are you up to?”

“I’m at my grandfather’s nursery,” Ye Zi replied.

“I’m in CS—spit it out!” Song Daha’s voice echoed, with intense gunfire in the background.

“I’m treating everyone to dinner tomorrow at six, Dingcheng Grand Hotel,” Liu Dong said.

“Sure! Something good happen?” Fang Qingye asked.

“Sort of—I’ve been officially transferred to the Propaganda Department.”

“Holy shit! That’s huge!” Song Daha’s voice returned, now without gunfire.

“You’ve gotta treat us—dinner’s not enough, then we’re going karaoke… bring some girls?” Song Daha asked.

“Fine, I’ll bring one,” Liu Dong agreed readily, then added: “Ye Zi, invite Bai Ou?”

Fang Qingye immediately glanced at Bai Ou beside him.

The girl nodded.

“Alright, Bai Ou’s right here—she sends her congratulations,” Fang Qingye replied.

“Thanks… Daha, what about you? Invite Qian Xiaoli?”

“Don’t mention her, or I’ll lose it!” Song Daha snapped, then added: “Ye Zi, get me Chen Meimei.”

“You call her yourself!” Fang Qingye refused flatly. “You’ve got her number and added her on QQ—why are you coming to me?!”

“I’m just worried she’ll say no…”

“If you’re afraid she’ll say no, then don’t ask! Daha, you’re decisive about everything else—why are you so hesitant here? You don’t act like a man at all.” Fang Qingye said.

“Fuck! I’m going for it—I’m calling her right now!”

With that, Song Daha exited the group voice chat; Fang Qingye exchanged a few more words, then disconnected. The two walked together toward the simple hut.

“Ye Zi, is Daha really chasing Chen Meimei from your office?” Bai Ou asked as they walked.

“You just heard him—probably not lying.”

Bai Ou said nothing, but suddenly recalled a recent class reunion, when she’d been chatting with Qian Xiaoli.

“He won’t escape my palm!”

At the time, Qian Xiaoli had clenched her right fist, exuding an aura of dominance.

Fang Qingye couldn’t help smiling.

“Bai Ou, why are you smiling?” Fang Qingye found her smile odd.

“N-nothing,” Bai Ou snapped back to herself, shaking her head nervously.

They reached the simple hut; Bai Ou went to wash her hands, while Fang Qingye went to see his grandparents.

Actually, he had no other purpose—just chatted with the two elders, then walked with Bai Ou to see other flowers.

It was peak summer; many flowers were blooming in the nursery—Mao Hua Zhu, Cai Cao, Shu Kui, roses…

Fang Qingye walked while listening to Bai Ou talk about flowers; time flew, and soon night fell. They prepared to head home.

Fang Qingye rode his scooter, Bai Ou her small girl’s bike; after bidding farewell to his grandparents and leaving the nursery gate, Fang Qingye suddenly remembered something.

“Wait…”

He turned his scooter back into the nursery, returned shortly after, and now the scooter’s footrest held a pot—the very Lianban Orchid they’d just repotted.

Bai Ou smiled again, her eyes curling into crescents.

“Did you tell your grandfather?”

“I did. Let’s go—I’ll help you carry the pot home,” Fang Qingye said, mounting his scooter.

Bai Ou’s home was in a newly developed housing complex called Bihai Garden, in a high-rise; Fang Qingye helped carry the pot up to the sixteenth floor.

Bai Ou opened the door and turned on the lights—the place was empty.

“Where are your parents?” Fang Qingye asked casually.

“My dad’s still out networking; my mom went out for a stroll—come in for a bit?” Bai Ou invited.

“No thanks, I need to go back… don’t forget dinner tomorrow!” Fang Qingye said, turning to leave.

“I won’t forget… bye.”

“Bye.”