Jian Ci added with a sly grin, "Better yet, whoever wins gets to sleep with Little Xi for the rest of the weekend."
Yu Xi rubbed his temples. "You do realize I am standing right here."
Jian Ci crouched down, carefully selecting blossoms. His technique was precise, his hands moving with practiced ease. Xiaobao’s confidence faltered as she watched him. Of course Jian Ci knew how to arrange flowers—his mother adored them, filling the estate with gardens of every color.
Xiaobao leaned close to Yu Xi, whispering urgently, "Brother... you will pick mine, won’t you?"
Yu Xi glanced at her, then at Jian Ci’s flawless bouquet-in-progress, and sighed.
He took another spoonful of his ice cream, savoring the cool sweetness before speaking with calm finality. "I will not help you cheat. If his bouquet is more beautiful, then I will pick that one."
Xiaobao’s lips twitched, her pride wounded. "I should have known that once you found the love of your life, you would forget your relatives."
Jian Ci’s head snapped up from where he was arranging flowers. "What love?" His hearing was sharp, but he had been too far to catch her exact words. The single ntion of love ignited his gossiping spirit, and he leaned forward eagerly. "What did you say?"
Xiaobao crossed her arms. "You are nosy."
Jian Ci chuckled, his tiger tooth flashing. "When it cos to Yu Xi, of course I am nosy. Your brother lovessss that I am nosy."
Xiaobao leaned closer to Yu Xi, whispering conspiratorially. "Are you sure this is the one you want to settle for? He yaps too much, he is nosy, he has a bad temper, and he steals your bed."
Yu Xi smiled, his eyes soft. "But he can arrange flowers."
Xiaobao turned back toward Jian Ci, suddenly feeling ashad. His bouquet was breathtaking—a cascade of blossoms chosen with deliberate care, each flower complenting the next in color, shape, and fragrance.
Pale ivory lilies stood tall at the center, regal and serene, their blossoms unfolding like whispers of elegance. Around them, delicate sprays of violet orchids curved gracefully, while soft blush roses nestled close, their petals layered in gentle harmony.
Erald foliage threaded through the bouquet, weaving depth and balance into the arrangent, while golden marigolds at the edges lent a subtle warmth, tying the composition together with a glow of sunlight. The bouquet was stunning, harmonious, and perfect—an artistry that seed almost alive with grace, as though it breathed with mory and aning.
By contrast, Xiaobao’s attempt was painfully basic. Her bouquet was a jumble of mismatched blooms, colors clashing in haphazard bursts of red, yellow, and blue. There was no rhythm, no refinent—just a careless gathering that looked as though it had been plucked from a roadside field without thought.
Xiaobao’s eyes widened. "???" She huffed. "You could have just told you were good at it."
Jian Ci smirked, his tiger tooth flashing, and handed the bouquet to Yu Xi. "Those are for you."
Yu Xi took them, his gaze softening as he looked at the breathtaking arrangent. He lifted the bouquet to his face, inhaling deeply. The fragrance was intoxicating—sweet, fresh, and layered with subtle notes that sent tingles all over his body. In that mont, he felt himself falling even deeper into the pit Jian Ci had unknowingly dug for him, a place where beauty and emotion intertwined too tightly to escape.
Jian Ci leaned closer, his grin mischievous. "My room or yours?"
Yu Xi, still dazed by the bouquet in his hands, blinked. "Huh?"
Xiaobao grunted loudly, folding her arms. This felt like watching a not-a-couple, couple flirt.
Jian Ci smirked. "The sleepover. My room or yours?"
Yu Xi sighed, his voice soft. "Does it really matter?"
Xiaobao interjected quickly. "He hasn’t even voted yet!"
Jian Ci, unfazed, took her bouquet and placed it side by side with his own in Yu Xi’s hands. "Do you really want to embarrass yourself?" he teased.
Xiaobao pouted, her pride crushed. In that mont, she realized she would have to step up her ga if she wanted her brother’s attention.
When they returned ho, Xiaobao still couldn’t let it go. She grabbed her communicator and called her grandpa. "Grandpa, which bouquet is better?" she asked sweetly.
The poor old man had no idea this was a trap. He simply picked the most beautiful one, Jian Ci’s, without hesitation.
Xiaobao’s face fell. "Grandpa, don’t these ones—" she pointed at her own bouquet "—have more personality?" She was clearly trying to rig the results.
Eros leaned closer to the screen during the video call, squinting. Only then did he realize the mismatched, clashing bouquet was his granddaughter’s creation. He was just about to shower Xiaobao with praises for her bouquet, his voice warming with grandfatherly pride, when Jian Wei walked into the room. He glanced at the flowers and scoffed. "They look terrible. Did a kid do those?"
Xiaobao froze, her lips parting in silent outrage. "..."
Eros, sensing the storm about to break, quickly excused himself. "Bao Bao, grandpa has to go do sothing," he said hurriedly, retreating before stray bullets of Xiaobao’s wrath could hit him.
Xiaobao’s gaze locked onto Jian Wei, sharp and terrifying. Jian Wei instantly regretted provoking her. He grabbed a bottle of juice from the fridge, cleared his throat awkwardly, and tried to walk away.
"You must have been so bored without around," Xiaobao called after him.
Jian Wei swore internally. Shit. He forced a smile. "No, wasn’t bored at all. I have to go."
He started to hurry off, but Xiaobao’s voice rang out again. "Your last published article had a typo in it."
Jian Wei froze mid-step, his eye twitching. He prided himself on perfection, on catching every detail. Where the hell would a typo co from?
"You are just ssing with ," he said sharply.
Xiaobao shrugged innocently. "Okay, if you say so."
"What typo? Which page?" Jian Wei demanded, his composure cracking.
Just then Yu Xi carrying a vase. "I thought you said I was ssing with you," replied Xioabao as Yu Xi set the vase down and began arranging the flowers Jian Ci had given him.
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