Chapter 22

Lucy White gave a slight nod as she followed the host into the meticulously maintained garden. Rare flowers of every hue competed for attention under the sunlight, their delicate fragrance perfuming the air.

"Can you identify these camellia varieties?" the host asked, gesturing toward a vibrant patch of blooms.

"This one is 'Eighteen Scholars'—its petals are layered like a pagoda," Lucy murmured, lightly tracing a fingertip over the petals. "And that crimson one is 'Red Dawn,' its color like morning clouds. The 'Crown' has the most unique shape, resembling..."

She listed over thirty varieties with effortless precision, even pointing out the rarest hybrids. Ethan Smith had appeared beside her at some point, a flicker of admiration in his eyes.

This girl never failed to surprise him.

The host, intrigued, tested her knowledge on other flowers, and Lucy answered with ease. Soon, they were deep in discussion—soil pH, bloom cycles, every technical detail spot-on.

"My orchid has been sick for three months..." the host sighed suddenly.

Lucy crouched, examining it closely. "Root rot. You’ll need to trim all the decayed parts..." She demonstrated with practiced hands, moving like a seasoned gardener.

"Brilliant!" The host clapped in delight. "I’ve made a name for myself in horticulture, but you’re even more skilled than I am!"

The livestream erupted:

[Just looked it up—everything Lucy said was textbook-perfect!]

[Her orchid-trimming technique is flawless. My grandpa, who’s gardened for 40 years, says so!]

[How’s that for 'faking it,' haters?]

Flower enthusiasts chimed in:

[That root rot treatment is an advanced horticulturist’s trick!]

[She even knows hybrid genetics—no way this is last-minute studying!]

Casual viewers spammed the chat:

[Gorgeous, poised, AND a flower whisperer? What kind of goddess is this?!]

[Did you notice? She keeps including Ethan in the conversation. So thoughtful!]

As the sun dipped low, the pair returned with their haul. Wild honey glowed amber in the basket, and Ethan’s lips curved. "Looks like we’re eating well tonight."

"What would you like, Mr. Smith?" Lucy lifted the fresh ingredients playfully.

"I get to choose?" He raised a brow.

"If I can make it." Her eyes crinkled into crescents. Laughing, they headed back to the cottage—only to find Lily Green flaunting her fishing haul.

"Whoa! How’d you two get so much?" Daniel Miller gaped. The group marveled at their bounty while Lily’s smile stiffened.

Ethan explained warmly, "Lucy cured the host’s prized orchid." His gaze lingered on her, admiration undisguised. "Even professional gardeners couldn’t match her expertise."

Lily’s nails dug into her palms. She’d picked fishing—an easy crowd-pleaser—yet Lucy had stolen the spotlight again.

From the shadows, Michael Johnson’s stare burned into the laughing pair. When Ethan said "we," something in his chest twisted sharply.

Dinner aromas soon had everyone restless. Daniel hovered at the kitchen door, pleading, "Lucy, any scraps for a starving man?"

Lucy glanced at Ethan, who gave an indulgent nod. "Your call."

"Then... sharing is caring?" She winked. Cheers erupted—but no one noticed Lily’s darkening glare or Michael’s smoldering silence.