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Chapter 13 - Chapter 13

The private corporate resort felt less like a vacation and more like a fortress. Zhao Min was trapped in the center of the luxury, surrounded by two very beautiful, very demanding sisters. The tension was thick, heavy like the humid air over the bay.

Han Yue used her time with Zhao Min to discuss massive financial ideas. She was reviewing the resort's complex accounting system. She spoke of leveraging assets and maximizing returns. She looked at Zhao Min with deep respect. Her way of showing love was to include him in her immense, successful world. She felt he was the only person who understood her mind.

Han Yue ordered expensive wine and high-end charts for their evening "work session." This was her date.

Han Qing, however, saw the evening differently. She watched Han Yue bring out the charts, and she instantly felt weak. Han Yue was trying to win Zhao Min with her power. Han Qing decided to fight with her fragility.

As Han Yue began to explain a complex tax code, Han Qing suddenly put her hand to her temple. Her face turned pale.

"I have a terrible headache," Han Qing whispered, her voice trembling. She knew exactly what to say. "It's starting again. I feel the pain, Min. I need your help."

Zhao Min immediately stopped looking at the financial report. His worry for Han Qing was automatic, pure, and overwhelming.

"Where does it hurt, Qing?" he asked, putting the report aside.

"My temples. It feels like my head is splitting apart," she whimpered. She walked over to him, leaning against his shoulder. "I need you to sit with me. The pain goes away when you are close."

Han Yue slammed her pen down. "Qing! Stop it! This is important work!"

"My life is more important than money, Han Yue!" Han Qing cried, clutching Zhao Min's sleeve tighter.

Zhao Min looked at Han Yue, his eyes holding gentle disappointment. "Ms. Han, please. She is in pain. The report can wait until morning."

Han Yue was defeated. She knew if she fought for the work, her selfishness would trigger the full Karma Reversal, and Han Qing would suffer greatly. She had to prioritize her sister's health, which was now inextricably linked to Zhao Min's emotional peace.

She watched as Zhao Min gently led Han Qing to a comfortable sofa. He sat next to her, speaking in a low, soothing voice. He gently massaged her temples, his fingers warm and reassuring. Han Qing immediately closed her eyes, sighing in perfect relief. The pain was instantly gone.

Han Yue's Internal Monologue: "She uses her illness like a leash. She forces him to care. But when he touches her, she is truly healed. I hate her manipulation, but I love the pure kindness he gives her. I am falling in love with a man who my sister needs to survive."

After nearly two hours, Han Qing finally drifted into a peaceful sleep. Zhao Min gently stood up, easing his arm out from under her head. He felt exhausted and emotionally drained. The luxury, the high-stakes work, and the constant emotional care were too much. He missed the simple, clean quiet of his old life.

He knew he couldn't stay in the suite. He needed to escape the suffocating love of the two sisters, just for an hour.

He quietly slipped out of the penthouse suite and took the elevator down. He walked past the massive, silent swimming pools and the perfectly manicured lawns. He walked straight out of the resort gates.

Just a short walk down the road, the world changed. The perfect, artificial luxury gave way to a small, cluttered village market. The air was filled with the smell of simple food, dust, and something earthy and fresh.

Zhao Min felt a huge wave of relief. This felt real.

He saw a small stand tucked away in a corner. It was a simple flower stall, run by a young woman.

Mei Lin was twenty-five, beautiful in a quiet, unassuming way. She wore simple clothes, and her hands were stained with rich brown soil. Her face was smudged, but her eyes were kind and focused entirely on her work. She was struggling. Her stand was nearly empty, and no one was stopping to look at her simple bouquets.

Zhao Min watched her for a moment. He saw her dedication and her simple struggle. He didn't see a potential wife or a corporate asset. He saw his own old life—hard work, simple dreams, and not enough luck. He felt a deep, genuine Empathy for her tenacity.

He walked up to the stall. "These are beautiful," he said.

Mei Lin looked up, startled. She hadn't seen anyone from the resort walk this far. She saw Zhao Min's expensive but slightly rumpled suit, his honest eyes, and the exhaustion on his face.

"Thank you, sir," she said softly. "But they are very simple flowers. Most people here want the big, expensive, imported ones."

Zhao Min smiled. "I like simple. They smell real."

He scanned her few remaining bouquets. He pointed to a single white gardenia, perfectly formed, smelling strongly of pure, fresh air.

"How much for that one?" he asked.

"Just ten Yuan, sir," Mei Lin replied, surprised. It was the cheapest flower she had.

Zhao Min paid her, giving her twenty Yuan and waving away the change. "Keep it. For your hard work. Keep making beautiful things."

It was a small, sincere act of appreciation for her dedication, driven by pure empathy, not lust or need.

[Good Luck Conduction System]

New Target: Mei Lin. Affection Level: +10 (Genuine Sincerity/Empathy).

LUCK FLOW INITIATED: Artisanal Destiny Correction.

The moment the money touched her hand, Mei Lin felt a bizarre, powerful surge. Her hands felt warm, and the simple white gardenia Zhao Min held seemed to glow faintly, radiating an impossible scent of perfection.

Suddenly, a massive, luxury SUV—a bright red Ferrari—screeched to a halt right next to her small, dusty stand.

The driver, a sharply dressed man in a thousand-dollar suit, jumped out. He was the head buyer for Royal Gardens, the largest, most prestigious floral company in the city. He looked frantic.

"You!" the buyer yelled, rushing up to Mei Lin. "The white gardenia! Where did you get that gardenia? It's exactly what we need! The CEO of the National Museum canceled their order for the anniversary gala. We need one simple, perfect centerpiece, one that smells authentic, not chemical! Your flower... it's the perfect scent! It's impossible!"

Mei Lin stared at him, dumbfounded. "I... I grew it myself. It's just a simple gardenia."

"We need fifty of them by tomorrow! And five hundred more by the end of the week! This scent is a miracle! We will pay you ten thousand Yuan per flower! Can you supply us?" the buyer pleaded, throwing a massive checkbook onto her simple wooden counter.

Ten thousand Yuan per flower. Mei Lin's simple, struggling life—her entire destiny—had just changed in thirty seconds. She had gone from selling ten Yuan flowers to commanding a fortune, all because of the unique, irresistible perfection granted by Artisanal Luck.

Zhao Min, standing just a few feet away, watched the miracle unfold, utterly oblivious to his role. He just saw a kind, hardworking girl finally getting the luck she deserved. He smiled, genuinely happy for her, and walked away, holding his single, perfect gardenia.

Zhao Min walked back to the penthouse suite, the scent of the white gardenia a comforting anchor of simplicity. He felt calm for the first time since he left the repair shop.

He opened the door to the suite. Han Yue and Han Qing were both awake, waiting. Han Yue looked stern; Han Qing looked tearful and possessive.

Han Yue immediately spotted the single white flower in his hand. Her eyes narrowed. She had filled his life with massive, expensive bouquets, yet he brought back this single, simple thing.

"Where were you, Min?" Han Qing cried, jumping up from the sofa. She rushed to him, grabbing his arm. "I woke up and you were gone! The fear came back! Don't ever leave me like that!"

Han Yue walked up slowly, ignoring her sister. She looked only at the flower. "Where did you get that, Mr. Zhao? It's not from the resort's gardens."

Zhao Min, feeling refreshed, told the truth simply. "Down the road. A small market stand. A kind girl named Mei Lin was selling them. She finally got a huge sale, too. I'm happy for her."

Han Yue didn't hear the story of the massive sale. She only heard the words: A kind girl. Mei Lin.

She reached out and snatched the flower from his hand. She crushed the stem slightly between her fingers, her jealousy a sharp, cold sting.

"We will investigate this 'Mei Lin' immediately," Han Yue stated, her voice icy. "She is clearly trying to use the resort's name for profit. And you, Mr. Zhao, will not leave this suite alone again. You are under my constant observation. For both of our safety."

Han Qing immediately leaned her head on Zhao Min's shoulder. "See, Min? My sister protects us both. You are safest right here with me."

Zhao Min looked at the two sisters: one clutching him, the other crushing the beautiful, simple flower. He had escaped the high-stakes financial world, only to walk right into a new, complex, emotional rivalry, all because of a single gardenia. He was losing control of his life, one beautiful woman at a time.

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