In March 2007, I happened to be away on business in Xinjiang. When I woke up that morning, I realized that it was my wedding anniversary but yet nothing has been done yet. Planning a surprise for the boss at home, I messaged my colleague, Ms. Li: “Could you please help to order a few roses 🌹 for my wife and have them delivered?”
That afternoon, the boss at home called to say she had received ninety-nine roses and was thrilled.
My wallet ached at the thought. I hurriedly contacted Ms. Li, ready to ask what on earth she had done. But she spoke first: “Boss, what are the chances? Today happens to be our anniversary too. You gave me the idea, so I sent my husband ninety-nine roses as well. It’s the first time I’ve ever given anyone flowers.”
The reproach already on my lips dissolved into: “You handled that… beautifully!”
A few days later, when the trip was over, I returned home to find the roses 🌹 still there. Ninety-nine really is quite a number—the house was overflowing with flowers. Roses on the windowsills, in every room, on the dining table… roses everywhere.
Without that misunderstanding, I probably would never have sent ninety-nine roses in my life. It truly was a beautiful misunderstanding…
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