The atmosphere in the penthouse suite was icy. Han Yue stood by the window, clutching the wilted white gardenia, her expression a mix of jealousy and cold, corporate calculation. Han Qing was glued to Zhao Min's side, watching her sister with triumphant suspicion.
Zhao Min, feeling utterly exhausted, simply wanted silence. He didn't understand why a simple flower had caused such drama.
"Mr. Zhao," Han Yue finally said, her voice sharp. "You will go to your room and rest. I need to handle this distraction."
She dismissed him, but not before Han Qing squeezed his arm fiercely, sending a silent message: I am still here. Don't worry about her.
Han Yue immediately went to the resort's dedicated security office. She wasn't investigating the florist for "using the resort's name." She was investigating the source of a competing Luck Flow.
She called her Chief of Security, Mr. Kang, and gave him a clear, unusual order.
"I need you to find the exact flower stand where Mr. Zhao bought this gardenia," she instructed, holding up the crushed bloom. "I want the name of the florist, her financial records for the last year, and a full report on her activities yesterday afternoon, between four and five PM."
"Ms. Han, is this related to the Horizon deal?" Mr. Kang asked, confused.
"It is related to the future of Nova Consulting," Han Yue stated firmly. "Treat this with the highest priority."
Mr. Kang was baffled but obeyed.
Han Yue returned to the suite and found Han Qing asleep, still clutching Zhao Min's hand. Han Yue felt a powerful, unwelcome surge of affection mixed with resentment. Her sister was using a near-fatal illness as a tool of romantic possession.
Han Yue went to her desk and began to write. She wasn't writing a report; she was writing a marriage proposal.
She was a CEO; she knew how to secure an asset. Emotional dependency was a good start, but a legal contract was final. If Zhao Min was the source of all her luck, she would make him her husband. This would legally monopolize his time, his attention, and his kindness.
She wrote out the terms: complete financial security, a large trust fund for his family, and, most importantly, a lifetime commitment to the Harmony Protocol—a clause ensuring she would maintain an environment of kindness and stability around him, which would now include the health of Han Qing. She was offering him a legal structure for his selfless nature.
She planned to present it to him the next morning.
Meanwhile, Li Mei was sitting in a dingy coffee shop near Zhao Min's old repair shop, nursing a cheap cup of coffee. She had used the last of the pity money to stay safe and clean. She felt the low-level hum of Muted Karma—a fragile peace that depended entirely on Zhao Min's guilt.
She knew Zhao Min was busy. She knew the billionaire CEO had him. But she also knew his heart.
She composed a new text message to him, choosing her words carefully to trigger his deepest need: the need to be a savior.
"Min, I'm okay now, thanks to you. But I can't stay safe much longer. Those terrible men are still looking. I have nowhere to go. I just keep thinking about that small, happy life we planned. I need a lifeline, Min. Just a tiny act of kindness to keep me alive."
She signed off: "Your old Li Mei." She was reminding him of the pure, simple past they shared, contrasting it with the stressful, complicated life he now had with the sisters.
She sent the text, knowing he would be fighting a battle of conscience.
Back in the resort penthouse, Zhao Min finally fell into an exhausted sleep.
He woke up to the vibrating phone. It was Li Mei's text. He read it, and the guilt returned, sharp and fresh. He thought of her alone, scared, and relentlessly pursued by bad luck.
He sat up, immediately feeling the internal conflict. He wanted to help her, but Han Yue's logic was correct: direct help made everything worse.
He deleted the text, trying to follow Han Yue's command to maintain stability. But his heart felt heavy. He needed a distraction, a way to focus his kindness without causing a disaster.
Just then, Mr. Kang's report arrived on Han Yue's private tablet. Han Yue, unable to sleep, quickly opened it.
The report was baffling.
The florist was named Mei Lin. She had struggled for years. But yesterday, between 4:05 PM and 4:30 PM (the exact time Zhao Min was at her stand), she had received an unprecedented number of high-value, corporate contracts. One company, Royal Gardens, had signed a massive deal, claiming her simple gardenias now possessed an "irresistible, unique scent" they desperately needed for an event.
Her poverty had vanished overnight. Her life had turned upside down due to a single, inexplicable event.
Han Yue stared at the screen, her heart hammering. The evidence was irrefutable. Zhao Min's power wasn't tied to his bank account or his status; it was tied to the sincerity of his interaction. He had genuinely appreciated this florist, and his kindness had instantly granted her massive luck.
Han Yue crumpled the marriage proposal she had been writing. It was too cold, too pragmatic. She realized that trying to buy or legally trap his kindness would only result in a Karma Backlash that could destroy her.
She had to win him with genuine affection and pure devotion, just as Han Qing was attempting. The rivalry was far more complex than a contract.
Han Yue immediately called Mr. Kang. "I want Ms. Mei Lin brought to the resort immediately. Not as a threat, but as a potential vendor. I need to meet the woman whose simple flower holds such power."
The florist was about to enter the luxurious cage of the Harmony Protocol.