It turned out that this very rose estate was the heart of the problem.
The cost of cultivating Dianhong roses was too high, and the labor required was immense. Fifteen years ago, Li Group’s rose gardens quietly underwent a change.
First, they replaced a quarter of the rose varieties, supplementing the shortfall with chemical substitutes.
Over time, that proportion gradually increased, until the area of authentic Dianhong roses was squeezed down to just a tenth of the entire field.
The output of rose petals remained the same, the inputs were easier, and the processing procedures simplified—the entire production line reaped profits, while the workers who painstakingly tended the real roses suffered…
Every seedling was the product of their devotion, yet they were forced to follow “headquarters’” instructions, using catalysts that not only reduced the quality of the petals but also damaged the land they loved and took pride in.
Eventually, they couldn’t take it anymore. Resolute, they organized a strike to make their grievances public.
They had hoped to get the headquarters to pay attention to the problem with the roses, but the media repeatedly distorted the story, turning it into a complaint about wages.
The organizers were heartbroken and left the land they had protected, while the others were pressured by the factory and forced into leave.
After all, unless you truly understood roses, most people couldn’t tell the difference between good and poor roses at a glance—it was just a field of red flowers.
Su Pu continuously comforted the mute workers, urging them to come forward as witnesses.
He told them:
“My husband is the CEO of the group. He’s incredible and can definitely help you!”
The mute man, Zhu Zhu, hesitated, still unconvinced.
“But… the previous leadership only gave money…”
Su Pu touched his shoulder reassuringly.
“My husband is different. He’s the best, most sincere, and kind person in the world.”
After much thought, Zhu Zhu looked at the dwindling fields of Dianhong roses over the years and finally made his decision.
…
For the next few days, Li Jichuan threw himself into the matter.
No one expected that the man who had come to handle a PR issue would end up gaining full control.
On the day he obtained Zhu Zhu’s testimony, Li Jichuan immediately summoned the long-waiting investigation team and began a thorough audit of every part of the production line.
It was then that they realized no one was without fault—not just the managers.
He traced the issue upward, dismissing several group elders, and even Li Shuwen was called in for questioning by the tax authorities.
Yet his cunning aunt managed to slip through unscathed.
Still, there was no denying that Li Jichuan’s southern expedition was a resounding victory. He had firmly established his position in the group and shaken Li Shuwen’s faction.
Shareholders who had remained neutral began to take sides, joining Li Jichuan’s camp.
It was truly a decisive triumph.
After cleaning up the production line, reorganizing staff, and replacing the rose varieties, the previously disheartened gardeners returned.
The original Li family production line, nurtured over two generations, finally came back to life under Li Jichuan’s hands.
At last, he had lived up to his grandfather and parents—he had protected their legacy.
…
That evening, after the dust had settled, Li Jichuan was pulled along by his team to attend the local “Flower Spirit Festival.”
The festival took place every late autumn, lasting three nights, with bonfires each evening to celebrate the end of the flower season.
The spirits of the flowers would return to their hall to rest, only to return in spring, blessing the earth.
That night, Anderson and John had already had a couple of drinks.
John began pushing Li Jichuan’s wheelchair into the throng of dancers, shouting loudly, while Su Pu frantically chased behind him.
If there’s a next life, John’s destined to be a silly deer, and I’ll be the hunter!
How dare he push his husband around like that, bumping and jostling him?!
Luckily, the little mute was fast—he stopped them just before the wheelchair plowed into the dancing crowd.
Su Pu grabbed the handles and began retreating with Li Jichuan to the edge of the festival.
John shrugged helplessly: “I just wanted Lee to be happy.”
Su Pu bent down, noting Li Jichuan’s frightened expression, and looked back at John.
Where exactly do you see him being happy?!
John surrendered, taking Anderson’s hand as they merged into the “Left-Foot Dance” crowd.
Su Pu pushed his “long-lost” husband to the fringe of the festival.
Li Jichuan loosened his collar, embarrassed: “John goes crazy sometimes… almost—”
Su Pu patted his chest: I’ve got you!
No one dares touch you!
Li Jichuan bowed slightly: “Thanks. John has no limits when he goes wild.”
Su Pu smiled, finding John amusingly transparent.
Hungry?
Su Pu showed his phone: Did you have lunch?
Li Jichuan chuckled. No, he hadn’t—apart from the breakfast Su Pu had forced him to eat, he hadn’t eaten a thing all day.
Su Pu made a mock exasperated face and pushed him toward the night market.
The sight made Li Jichuan chuckle.
Once, Su Pu had been someone who even needed permission to shower. Now, he could express his little moods to him.
Li Jichuan’s heart felt as if it had been lightly scratched by a cat—no pain, only an unbearable itch.
After all, the next step would be burying his face in the soft belly of the cat, taking a deep sniff.
A natural instinct—but with Su Pu, Li Jichuan could only imagine it.
When will I get to bury my face in Su Pu’s cat-like belly?!
They strolled through the night market.
On the way, Li Jichuan had complained about the hygiene, claiming he had no appetite.
But once inside, everything changed—the food here awakened his hunger.
Yunnan’s snacks were irresistible!
By the end, Li Jichuan was holding a second serving of Dai-style chicken feet, savoring every bite.
Su Pu ate to his heart’s content, the aroma of flower cakes lingering between his lips.
“Lee!!!”
John and Anderson finally pushed through the crowd, each hoisting Li Jichuan’s shoulders, insisting he dance.
Li Jichuan was utterly speechless, smelling the heavy alcohol on them.
Dragging a cripple to dance—really, Su Pu, help me—
Of course, Su Pu wanted to help, but another group seized him, placing a floral crown atop his head.
These were the newly hired disabled workers at the estate—Su Pu’s idea had given them jobs, and they were grateful.
Surrounded by them, Su Pu felt truly useful.
For once, the thought I’m actually of some use appeared in his mind without a hint of ridicule.
It was as if part of him was finally being accepted.
Though a small, seemingly powerless mute, he was changing lives and helping people be seen.
Su Pu was spun around in dance by their hands.
From afar, Li Jichuan’s eyes never left his little mute.
After several days in Yunnan, Su Pu had become noticeably more cheerful, more confident.
Look at him—so happy… even though the guy putting the crown on him looked suspicious, handsome, and kept smiling at him.
After the revelry, Li Jichuan was finally back in his wheelchair, while Su Pu was still talking with Zhu Zhu.
“Your husband… really that rich?” Zhu Zhu asked.
Su Pu nodded proudly. Of course!
He was the CEO of Li Group, after all!
Then Zhu Zhu frowned.
“But… if he’s so rich, why is he wearing a fake bracelet?”
Su Pu froze, heart pounding, ears ringing.
A fake bracelet?
Nonsense—that bracelet was a gift from his mother, meant for his beloved! How could it be fake?
“Yunnan produces plenty of jade. My grandmother is in the business.”
“That bracelet? It’s obviously fake. No mistake about it.”
Su Pu’s breath caught.
Fake?
It was obviously fake…
Then why was Li Jichuan still wearing it?
Couldn’t he tell?