the language of flowers.

two | 意外

"There's heavy traffic on the bridge leading to the Su Dong district, so I might not make it to the meeting with Mr. Li in time," a voice grumbles anxiously from the speaker of Yuankai's car. "You're lucky that you left early. I might be dispensable, but we can't do it without you."

"That's nonsense and you know it," Yuankai answers, allowing the tiniest smirk to creep onto his face. That was the closest thing to a compliment that he would ever get from his begrudging friend. "You'll be there right on time, Mingwei. Don't doubt that."

The voice sighs. "I'll try my best. Don't stall on my behalf, alright? And if you can, forward me the updated documents from the research department? I told that dumbass Guobin to send it to me yesterday, but it seems that he conveniently forgot to CC me again."

Yuankai chuckles. "Your good old friend Guobin, huh? Got it. I'll see you in a while," he replies.

"See you."

Ending the call, Yuankai watches Mingwei's name flicker from the screen with a fond smile on his face. After starting out as college rivals who never hesitated to one-up each other in every class they shared, they made a surprisingly good team once they ended up at the same agency – and as partners no less. Yuankai supposed that they complemented each other well-enough that way; he was all about details and organization, while Mingwei excelled at big-picture thinking and setting impressive but achievable goals.

Before he can forget, Yuankai pulls up his email, searching for the one that Guobin sent him a couple of days back. It took a while given the amount of work emails he got in a day, and upon finding it he noted that his inbox could use a good cleaning after his meeting was over.

He's only halfway through typing Mingwei's email address when his car collides with the one in front of him.

The phone falls from his hand, clattering noisily as it lands somewhere near his feet. The breath is punched from his lungs when he lurches forward, his chest hitting the steering wheel.

Fuck.

When the initial shock fades, he makes quick work of taking in the situation. No injuries, just mild disorientation. He silently curses his carelessness, deeply regretting not keeping his eyes on the road. The engine of his car, despite the crumpled hood and dented bumper, has not stalled. He takes that as a good sign that there's no major damage – though judging by the repairs that are yet to be made, he can't really say the same for his wallet.

He lifts his eyes higher. In comparison, he'd gotten off easy; the car he'd hit had black smoke curling ominously from its exhaust pipe and a crushed number plate. The car was a vintage too, a rarer model from one of the more popular motor companies. Wincing, he thinks of all the extra money that will cost him.

But what shocks him even more is the woman who steps out of the car, whipping her head around and pinning him with a downright poisonous glare.

The first thing that hits him is her tattoos; ones that begin from her right wrist, snaking their way up to her shoulder where the ink meets the thin strap of her tank top. His mind immediately conjures up images of the infamous gangster brides of the seedy Chao Xi district – crass, bloodthirsty women who married triad leaders, bore their heirs, and were more than willing to draw some blood alongside their men when the situation called for it.

Yuankai's heart pounds harder at that thought, the woman drawing closer as he steals a quick glance at the time on the dashboard. With barely twenty minutes left to the meeting, he doesn't have the time to apologize, discuss compensations, and let the woman verbally bash him – or worse, for her to call her husband and his gang up and let them do the physical bashing for her. His knuckles go white as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. There is too much at stake for him, especially on a day like today.

I'm sorry. I don't have a choice.

So even though it is out of character, even though it is irresponsible and shameful, Yuankai shifts gears, steps on the gas pedal as hard as he can, and drives away.