Bunga Lamaran Novels & Stories

LILIANA POV Every step I make walking to him goes with my heartbeat full of love and happiness. I could see him from a distance, he was wearing a simple white suit. His smile captivates my heart, he was handsome as always. The weather today was pleasant, we were surrounded by a lot of flowers. With more than 300 blooming species of flowers, Da Lat Flower garden is the perfect place for our wedding.

the girls exclaimed and I blushed. He pulled out a note and the most beautiful flowers from a floral trunk. " We want to see what the note says," the girls were over-excited about this. " Okay, lemme open it," I said. " These are French Marigold... Flowers as beautiful as you, represent good prosperity and hope. They bring vitality and happiness into a home and lately, you're my home, I thought of you when I saw them today," I covered my mouth with my hands after I finished reading the note, however, it wasn't signed.

She needed some fighting spirit to compete with her! As her footsteps moved through the corridor, she quickly arrived at Chiyoko's bedroom door, which was left ajar. She overheard Nancy enthusiastically persuading her to consume various supplements. Chiyoko was arranging a bunch of champagne roses one by one into a flower vase, wearing a sweet and contented smile. Those vibrant champagne roses were Flora's favorite, symbolizing nobility and purity. Raising her shoes, Flora involuntarily walked towards that exquisite bouquet. Her appearance caught Nancy's attention, who looked at her with a hint of gloating before leaving. Chiyoko also noticed her, and her smile deepened.

Her heart started thumping loudly in her chest. When they got there, there was indeed a beautiful woman. The most beautiful woman in the entire land, Bella Li. Bella was standing at the edge of the river, holding onto a flower lantern. She lit it and put it into the river. She let it float out of her hand and held her hands together as she made a prayer.

piou There was a sudden shrill, and a commotion was heard, but Aurora arranged her arms back in her bag, left behind a camellia flower, and left the hotel. The black lotus was like the hibiscus flower, also known as the rose of China, white as snow in the morning but red as blood at night.

Together with Molly, she unfurled a meticulously mounted scroll. The snow-white silk revealed ink-black branches, strong and vigorous, with crimson blossoms proudly adorning the tips. The embroidery vividly captured the resilience and beauty of plum blossoms, showcasing Miranda’s exceptional skill. The black threads resembled night, the red silk like precious gems, making it an ideal birthday gift. “What a wonderful piece!” The Croyso Count, obsessed with plum blossoms, couldn’t help but praise as soon as he saw it. The Countess, feeling uneasy, deliberately nitpicked, “Miss Miranda calls this ‘Longevity with Plum Blossoms.’ We see the plum blossoms, but where is the ‘longevity’?”

All members of the criminal organization would be in attendance that day. Lilies were Carmen's favorite flower, so her bouquet was made out of them. Yet, when the ceremony began, Carmen saw Evan standing up ahead with a bouquet of roses—my favorite flowers. Though she had a puzzled look in her eye, she continued making her way toward him. With a voice that no one could hear, Evan murmured, "Lyra, you're the only woman I'd ever marry. May this bouquet of roses stand in for you as you accompany me to complete this act."

When Connor got home, Suri was by the window, showing Logan her sketches. They were leaned in close as she pointed at the page. "Here, I'm thinking of adding a small garden—with different kinds of roses..." The word 'roses' made something flicker behind her eyes. Logan caught it instantly. He glanced at her profile, softening. "How about sunflowers instead? They're all about facing life with warmth and hope." "Really?" Suri looked up, locking eyes with him.

"The burgundy ranunculus you wanted for your wedding—it’s her favorite too. Is that what you meant?" "Yes." Bonita's whisper felt like a cry amidst a battlefield. The burgundy ranunculus wasn’t her choice. It was Benjamin’s. Bonita’s composure shattered. Her mind reeled, connecting scattered pieces of the puzzle. Her body felt nothing but emptiness. ***