Wang Jiancheng cleverly set up each part, and indeed the excuse was grand-sounding as expected. Wang Jiancheng took the opportunity to belittle the rose in their hands: "These two roses aren't fresh. How much did Mr. Xu pay for them? Did a street vendor rip you off?"
Actually, Wang Jiancheng was just being realistic. The two roses Xu Chunliang bought were a bit wilted. At first glance, they seemed fine, but when compared to the fresh, vibrant bouquets Wang Jiancheng brought, they paled in comparison.
Xu Chunliang sighed, "Looks like I got ripped off."
Mei Ru Xue gently said, "They're nice. I like them."
Wang Jiancheng sighed inwardly: I arranged the concert, I bought the flowers, and now you're flaunting your love in front of me?
As they spoke, the flowers in Mei Ru Xue and Ye Qingya's hands withered at a speed visible to the naked eye. Not only did the flowers wilt, but even the leaves turned yellow.
