The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 285 Ch.284 Flower Language
Only that annoying guy could say this.

Roland sighed silently, picked up the wrapped paper bag and was about to leave.

“Sir, don’t you realize that this behavior makes this store even more immoral?” She didn’t seem willing to let Roland off—or anyone who bought the box at full price.

She couldn't buy it, but she didn't want others to buy it at full price.

"I admit that you may be from a wealthy family, but you certainly don't know much about the outside world."

She folded her hands, and the two bean-like eyeballs in her slender eyes looked so shrewd no matter how you looked at them.

"That's really not nice, sir."

Roland looked past her and towards Shandel in the crowd.

The gray-haired girl had obviously changed her mind and was not in a hurry to leave. Instead, she mingled among the guests and looked over here with a smile.

'You're in trouble.'

She lip-synced, a gloating expression on her face.

"gentlemen."

She called out, calling Roland's attention back.

Some are not very happy.

"I'm not going to stop you from buying, nor am I going to say you shouldn't buy. You paid for it, so you should take what you like. I'm just suggesting that you should think more about other people in the future."

She sighed and when the customers in the store focused their attention on her again, the ramming horn was really raised high like a ramming horn, full of generosity and determination before ramming the enemy ship.

"Maybe saying these things will make me unpopular, and maybe this is not something a lady should say."

"But I have faith. I am a believer in Libra."

"I cannot turn a blind eye to this unjust and immoral behavior."

Her little eyes were filled with disappointment and regret towards Roland.

"You may never know what the store will become in the future when you spend a lot of money, fifty pounds on something that is not worth... not even ten pounds."

"They will think that if a ten-pound note sells for fifty pounds, then can it be sold for more?"

"You have encouraged this immoral atmosphere, and they will become even more vile and shameless."

Every country has its own government to set prices for goods, but this fresh imported product, a "broken box" of unknown use, is obviously not within the pricing range and is not within the scope of this imperfect law.

This undoubtedly gives Ms. Corner a lot of room to play.

She talked incessantly, and her words shone with a condescending justice.

The sun is high in the sky.

There might be someone in the world who could be the sun, but it was definitely not her - especially when she said it was worth ten pounds, which made Roland really angry.

"I spent fifty pounds, ma'am. And you tell me it's worth ten pounds...isn't that a little rude?"

Roland didn't want to get entangled with them.

But this gift is for Chandel.

"I admit that I was not polite enough and lacked respect for you." Interestingly, Zhuangjiao apologized first and knelt down very sincerely.

Then she pointed to the bag.

"I do have a small problem, but we have to say that you also made a mistake." She raised her right hand and drew a scale symbol on her chest: "Let's put aside our politeness and not talk about this small problem, okay?"

she says.

“Between politeness and morality, should we focus on the more important one first?”

She spoke slowly and more and more people gathered around her who were eager to learn about the topic.

Roland sighed, turned around and apologized to the salesperson at the counter, then opened the paper bag and tore open the packaging.

Take the box in your hand.

"Is this the box you're talking about?"

Roland asked.

The woman said yes.

"You think that by paying a high price for it, I have encouraged this store to sell its products at a higher price, and that they will continue to cheat their customers in the future, as they are doing today, right?"

The woman said yes.

Roland shook his head, stroked the delicate patterns on the box with his fingers, and said softly:

"In fact, it's worth fifty pounds, ma'am."

Roland raised his hand to interrupt the woman and explained to the people around him:
"Maybe it's not worth it, maybe it's made of wood, but the sentiment placed on it is enough for me to spend five hundred pounds on it. Ladies and gentlemen, perhaps you have time to listen to an interesting story from me?"

Not just London.

Apparently this is the case across the country.

It is full of people who love excitement and love to comment on excitement.

"Of course, sir!"

"Tell us about it!"

Someone shouted.

Roland stroked the wooden box and fell into reminiscence.

The shop was very quiet.

Only he said.

“This is a story about the language of flowers.”

The ladies around them giggled.

"Yes, yes, ladies. We can't express certain unseemly things in public, we can't speak out, so we always use other means, don't we?"

Roland turned sideways.

"A number of small bouquets make up a large bouquet, worn, or as an accessory." "A code word for sadness, a soldier for us to defend against disease, a token of affection or warning -"

Roland narrated:

"A few years ago, I hadn't built a business, didn't have my own office, couldn't light a cigar and listen to my employees' reports quietly."

"I am a poor boy with nothing to offer."

"I think all the gentlemen present here must have experienced a period of depression and loneliness in their lives..."

Roland lowered his head slightly and stroked the wooden box.

"I'm in love with a young lady."

He said.

"…some small brown spots on her cheeks, a small nose, gray hair, lake blue eyes, and two dimples on her cheeks that make her smile very cute."

The ladies nearby looked at each other and smiled knowingly.

Because it’s very graphic.

A boy's impression of a cute girl.

But what does this have to do with the box?
The spectators were extremely curious about how this handsome young man would resolve the current troubles with a short story.

"I think we all have times like this, right?"

Roland covered his heart timidly.

"I sent her flowers, every day."

"I couldn't be disrespectful, and I didn't want to make her feel bad - I sent flowers, roses, and you all know what that means, don't you?"

Rose symbolizes love, needless to say, the language of flowers.

The men started laughing too.

"Of course, of course. I admit that I had no career at that time and was a poor boy. She? She lived in the manor."

Someone started whistling.

The ladies reacted and realized that this was probably a story that would end in vain.

"Manor, ladies and gentlemen. Manor... Manor... I couldn't even write the word manor beautifully back then!"

The sudden rotation made everyone burst into laughter.

"I will give the rose to the butler and walk back. The next day, I will buy another bouquet of roses and give it to the butler."

"I did this for several months."

Roland paused and said, "I feel much stronger now than I did a few months ago..."

Someone laughed and joked: "Not only the body, but also opened a rose company?"

Roland looked over and winked playfully: "You are more suitable to stand here than me."

Another burst of laughter.

Roland waited for a while until the laughter subsided, then he shrugged and said cheerfully, "We all know that this is a story with no conclusion. Of course, I don't want to make you less happy—"

He spoke.

“Finally, I received a bouquet of flowers.”

"That was the first response I got in months."

"She turned me down and gave me a bouquet of flowers."

"I don't know whether it was the housekeeper's own decision or her request - but I don't recognize that flower, and I have never seen such a beautiful and strange flower in all these years."

The story came to an end, and Roland held up the black box.

“But today, I saw it again.”

The laughter died down.

"This lady said it was not worth fifty pounds, and that it would encourage immorality - now, I want to tell you: whether it is worth it or not, to me, it is a priceless treasure."

"Because it allowed me to see this special flower again and reminded me of the girl in my memory."

"Is fifty pounds too cheap?"

Roland sighed deeply, and when all ears were pricked up, he murmured:

"Today, I still don't know the name of this flower."

"Perhaps, I will never know the name of this flower in my life."

He said.

"Over the years I have been wondering what that girl wanted to say to me - what was the language of that bouquet of flowers, what was the message she conveyed to me?"

"But today, I think I understand it."

"I roughly know what she said to me when she wanted to borrow the flowers."

Roland raised his head, turned over the box, and showed her the golden flowers with soft branches on the surface of the box.

“This flower language may be…”

The bright eyes reflected a gloomy-looking woman.

He paused.

"It's - 'Stay away from me, poor bastard'."

The words fell.

First there was deathly silence.

Then, the laughter that suddenly broke out in the store almost blew the roof off.

(End of this chapter)