In the quiet grey of Shanghai’s working walls, deep in the hip and heady lanes of the French Concession, this mural was nearly invisible — hidden behind a thousand parked cars and a million silent bikes. But once found, it couldn’t be unseen. Bouquet Express. A bicycle drawn in pure function, carrying a cargo that refuses restraint. From its basket, flowers burst forward — yellow, blue, red, pink — defying the concrete calm. A delivery with no engine, no noise, and no address. Just colour, arriving unannounced.
