[Daily] The Orchid Chronicle (1): After the Ritual, the Grandeur Fades, a New Beginning for a Pot of Orchids

My uncle, a property developer, always has a few impressive Phalaenopsis orchids on his desk whenever he breaks ground for a new project or holds a completion ceremony to thank the gods. The ancients called orchids the "fragrance of the nation," and Qu Yuan wrote in "Li Sao" about "cultivating orchids in nine fields," imbuing them with resilience and nobility. However, in today's commercial world, orchids have taken on a more worldly image—their grand, upright form symbolizes a "stable foundation" for business, and their continuous blooming signifies auspicious wishes for "wealth and prosperity." On the day of the ritual, the sales office was filled with the scent of incense and the buzz of voices. My uncle patted my shoulder, pointed to the orchid placed in the center, and said in his usual insightful yet colloquial business tone: "This flower was chosen carefully. The blooms must be large, the stems straight. It pleases the gods, and it makes prospective clients feel our solid backing. All this lively atmosphere relies on these vibrant things to hold it up." I asked, "And after the ceremony?" My uncle took a puff of his cigarette and smiled faintly. "Flowers are like people. When they're in full bloom, they're for others to see. After they fade, they're truly their own. Once the ritual is done, its job is finished. If you like it, take it home and care for it." The ritual ended, and the lively scene dispersed. I brought this 'retired' Phalaenopsis orchid back to my own balcony. Its flowers had all fallen, and water marks from the venue's mist still lingered on its leaves. The stem was still bound with the reddish-brown wire used to pose it perfectly. To my uncle, it was a meritorious servant that completed the prayers and commercial rites; to me, the wilting flowers were not an end, but a beginning after shedding its worldly adornments. Our daily lives were just about to quietly unfold.