share time: 2025-12-20 06:01:06
Lin Xiaoman, an advertising planner who burns the midnight oil, lives her life like a “KPI checklist” — until she stumbles into a flower shop at the alley’s end, where morning dew clings to petals. The owner, Chen Mo, always hands her fragrant eustoma when she finishes her last line of a proposal; squats outside her office building to tie her loose high-heel laces; and even wraps her in a dry embrace with his umbrella when she cries in the rain after a failed pitch, his own shoulder soaked cold, yet smiling, “You’re prettier than a post-rain clear sky.” When Xiaoman finally gets her long-awaited promotion, amid the champagne bubbles at the celebration, she suddenly remembers the little daisies Chen Mo planted outside his shop — those “insignificant” tenderness she’d ignored were the warmth that outshone even the vastest clear sky.
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