As Zhao Jingshen's sleek car pulled up to the curb, Jiang Meilin felt her heart skip a beat. The facade of the Italian restaurant, "La Stella d'Oro," glowed warmly in the evening light, its rustic brick exterior adorned with twinkling fairy lights and cascading ivy.
"Jingshen, is this...?" Meilin's voice trailed off, her eyes wide with surprise.
He smiled, a hint of pride in his eyes. "You mentioned loving Italian food a few weeks ago. I hope this meets your expectations."
As they entered, the rich aroma of garlic, herbs, and freshly baked bread enveloped them. The interior was a perfect blend of old-world charm and modern elegance – exposed wooden beams, soft amber lighting, and tables draped in crisp white linen. To Meilin, this place smelt and felt like home.
A smartly dressed butler approached them with a warm smile. "Mr. Zhao, welcome. Your table is ready upstairs."
As they ascended to the rooftop, Jiang Meilin's anticipation grew. When they stepped out onto the terrace, she gasped audibly. The city skyline stretched before them, a glittering tapestry of lights under the velvet night sky. Strategically placed heaters kept the air comfortably warm, while soft music drifted from hidden speakers.
"Jingshen... This is breath-taking," Meilin whispered, turning to face him.
There he stood, a vision of elegance in his tailored suit, holding a stunning bouquet of red roses and carnations. Meilin's breath caught in her throat, recognizing the symbolism immediately. In the language of flowers, red roses signify A timeless symbol of love, and they convey deep passion and commitment. Carnations on the other hand symbolise everlasting devotion, fascination and deep admiration. Jiang Meilin knew this because she was obsessed over flowers since she was young. His choice of flowers had clearly expressed his feelings and thoughts for her.
"Meilin," Jingshen began, his voice uncharacteristically nervous. He inhaled a deep breath"I know I've asked this before, but I stand before you now, a free man as promised, with a heart overflowing with love for you." He fixed his gaze on her not wanting to miss a single emotion on her face"Will you do me the honour of becoming my girlfriend?"
Tears welled up in Meilin's eyes. "Jingshen, I... I don't know what to say..."
Zhao Jingshen was never nervous, even when he signed billion dollar deals, he was an embodiment of calmness. but in this moment, in front of this woman, he felt like his life was in her hands and a single yes or no could make or break him. "Just say yes, Meilin," he urged softly. "Say yes."
Jiang Meilin was no better, she was extremely excited to the extent she couldn't catch her breath, she has had guys who've asked her out before, but she was never like this, because just like Reginald had said, they are Blackwoods and they don't do simple romances. If she was going to say yes to Zhao Jingshen, it had to be a commitment for life. A radiant smile broke across her face. "Yes, Jingshen. Yes, I'll be your girlfriend."
Relief and joy flooded Zhao Jingshen's features. He handed her the bouquet and drew her close, capturing her lips in a tender, passionate kiss. Jiang Meilin melted into his embrace, the world around them fading away as they lost themselves in the moment.
When they finally parted, both slightly breathless, Zhao Jingshen reached into his pocket. "I have something else for you, something to remember this moment by," he said, producing a small velvet box. He has it mead when Jiang Meilin was in the hospital, when he decided it has to be her.
Inside was a delicate rose gold bracelet. The chain was intricately woven, resembling a vine, with small diamond-encrusted leaves scattered along its length. At its center sat a beautifully crafted rose, its petals formed from pink sapphires that caught the light with every movement.
"Jingshen... it's exquisite," Meilin breathed, running her finger along the bracelet. "But I'm sorry, I don't have anything to give you now." She made a mental note to instruct her family's chief engineer to design something that would be worthy of Zhao Jingshen.
He shook his head, clasping the bracelet around her wrist. "Having you say yes is more than enough."
As they settled at their table, a waiter approached with menus written entirely in Italian. Before Zhao Jingshen could offer to translate, Jiang Meilin surprised him by ordering fluently in perfect Italian.
"Vorrei iniziare con la burrata con pomodorini, seguita dagli gnocchi al tartufo, per favore,"¹ she said, her accent flawless.
Zhao Jingshen raised an eyebrow, impressed. "You continue to surprise me, Meilin. Is there anything you can't do?"
She laughed, a musical sound that made his heart soar. "Oh, there's plenty. For instance, I'm terrible at ice skating. How about you? Any hidden talents or embarrassing weaknesses?"
"oh! There's plenty." He smiled.
As their appetizers arrived – a creamy burrata for Jiang Meilin and carpaccio for Zhao Jingshen – they fell into easy conversation, punctuated by laughter and lingering glances.
"So, tell me something about yourself," Jingshen prompted, remembering their earlier agreement. "Something I don't know yet."
Meilin took a sip of her wine, considering. "Well, I speak Ten languages fluently. Italian, obviously, but also Mandarin, English, French, Spanish, Russian, Portuguese, Korean, German and Arabic."
Jingshen's eyes widened. "That's incredible. How did you learn them all?"
"Oh, you know," she said airily, not wanting to tell him that this was just some of the major ones "lots of studying and traveling. What about you? Any linguistic talents hiding behind that business mogul exterior?"
He chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm only limited to eleven languages, all of yours and enough Turkish to get by in business meetings." Excited that he met her standards.
"Show off" Jiang Meilin laughed.
"I aim to please." He responded. Their playful banter continued. Zhao Jingshen didn't wonder why a struggling artist could speak 10 languages fluently because he already knew that there was more to her than met the eye.
Their main courses arrived – truffle gnocchi for Meilin and osso buco for Jingshen. As they savored the rich flavors, their conversation flowed seamlessly from topic to topic, from childhood memories to future aspirations.
"Jingshen," Meilin said softly as they shared a decadent tiramisu for dessert, "thank you for tonight. It's been perfect."
He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "You make it perfect, Meilin. I've never felt this way about anyone before. So, thank you for this experience."
As the evening drew to a close, they reluctantly left the rooftop paradise. The drive back to Meilin's place was filled with comfortable silence, broken only by the soft strains of classical music from the car's speakers.