When Zhao Ming's Porsche pulled up in front of the bar, Ziwei was in the back yard picking sweet osmanthus flowers. She insisted on brewing wine with fresh petals, quoting an Imperial Kitchen recipe that stressed "no flowers past noon"—only those picked before noon were fragrant enough.
"How does Miss Xia like the offer?" Zhao Ming snapped his contract open, his fountain pen gleaming coldly in the sunlight. "Three million signing bonus, a seventy-thirty split."
I glanced at the fine print: "Including but not limited to commercial shoots for lingerie, swimwear, and the like." Ziwei walked over holding a bamboo sieve, osmanthus petals clinging to her eyelashes like a dusting of gold powder.
Chapter 236