No matter what Huo Zheng might have said to Song Jiaying in private, when he said he'd add fuel to the fire, he really did: a fresh bouquet of roses every day, constant concern and invitations to go out, making Ning Ge grind his teeth in hatred.
Send flowers? Who doesn't know how to send flowers. Compare money? He was a dignified major shareholder in a corporation—how could he lose to a mere doctor? Even if the other guy had a good family background, his own was absolutely not worse, and his money was all earned through solid, honest business.
So the two of them were basically openly competing, each bouquet bigger and brighter than the last. In just a few days, Song Jiaying's office couldn't hold them anymore, to the point that other departments all received fresh flower vases.
