Qi Ji’s mood was now almost indescribable.
His left foot, only halfway out, froze in place, and his upper body, trying to shift sideways to avoid being seen, had nowhere to hide. He struggled to silently minimize his presence, yet Star’s delayed response had exposed him completely.
“I… still have some work to finish,” fully revealed under Pei Yusheng’s gaze, Qi Ji forced himself to adopt a proper, respectful tone suitable for replying to his employer. “The computer in the bedroom won’t turn on, so I wanted to get my laptop.”
Pei Yusheng, seated on the sofa with a tablet in hand, lifted his eyes: “Weren’t you on leave after finishing work?”
Hearing this, Qi Ji suddenly and inopportunely thought of Qi Mingyu.
With heavy part-time work, Qi Ji rarely spent nights at home. Sometimes, even if he returned early during rare breaks, he would work through the night at home.
When Qi Mingyu saw this, he would impatiently knock on the door: “Aren’t you on leave? You’ve been working overtime all the time—why do you have to stay up even when you’re home?”
Qi Mingyu’s irritation likely came from the light in Qi Ji’s room disturbing his rest. So when he heard Pei Yusheng ask a similar question, Qi Ji instinctively thought he had made too much noise.
“Yes, the studio work is done, but there’s still a design to do for the café at Yuntu,” Qi Ji lowered his voice, speaking sincerely. “Sorry for disturbing you, President Pei.”
He lowered his gaze but was acutely aware of the man’s eyes fixed on him.
Despite having witnessed Pei Yusheng’s capriciousness many times, Qi Ji was most struck by the man’s presence and authority.
Being silently watched like this made him feel the weight pressing down on him.
The air seemed to thicken. After an indeterminate moment, Pei Yusheng finally spoke again.
“The villa’s internet is being adjusted over the past couple of days; some areas are unstable.”
His calm tone somehow dissipated the tension in the room.
“The living room has a stronger signal. If you need to use a computer, you can do it here.”
Qi Ji hesitated, blinking. His instinct was to decline, to stay away from the man. Yet he couldn’t come up with a valid excuse.
Research and using design resources required an internet connection; cloud syncing also needed signal. Working offline would affect his efficiency.
Blaming it on the peculiarities of the wealthy—houses so large that even Wi-Fi couldn’t cover them—was too forced. After a brief pause, he moved toward the living room.
At that moment, Star became responsive again. “Which device would you like to use? 1. Desktop, 2. Laptop, 3. Tablet.”
Qi Ji wanted the bedroom computer awakened the most, but after the previous mishap, he didn’t trust Star. Afraid of Murphy’s Law, he worried Star might misfire and wake the master bedroom computer instead.
For safety, he chose the most reliable option: “Tablet.”
“Beep! Tablet 09 activated. Please retrieve it from the second shelf of the living room bookshelf.”
Following the instructions, Qi Ji took the tablet, unlocked it, and checked the apps. All the compatible design software was installed. The tablet was a top-of-the-line model with a stylus—very convenient.
Even for producing drafts, the configuration was sufficient, especially since the project hadn’t officially started.
Holding the tablet, Qi Ji sat on the sofa opposite Pei Yusheng.
The living room had originally been furnished with a full set of rosewood furniture—last time Qi Ji had bumped his shin badly. But in his absence over the past half month, he noticed the room had been refitted with soft leather sofas, feeling like they would envelop him completely when sat upon.
Qi Ji particularly enjoyed the soft texture, though he didn’t know why the furniture had been replaced. Rosewood was expensive, durable, and heavy—few would swap it out casually. The new sofas’ colors and style, however, didn’t feel out of place. Perhaps the owner simply wanted a change.
Qi Ji got to enjoy the comfort regardless.
Pei Yusheng sat across from him, silently handling the files in front of him. Though often mocked as uneducated by colleagues at Yuntu, seeing him work with such calm expertise made it difficult for Qi Ji to associate this man with a playboy.
A person working diligently was inherently attractive. Even with his guard up, Qi Ji had to acknowledge Pei Yusheng’s competence.
How many people could recover from insomnia and continue working through the night with composure?
The man’s eyes were extremely perceptive; Qi Ji felt that every glance he unintentionally threw was caught. Finally, he focused on his tablet.
The tablet, top-notch and fast, ran the design software while quietly playing a tiger video in the background—Star could reflect on that.
The low coffee table required bending over to view the tablet, so Qi Ji eventually held it on his lap, resting it on his curled-up knees.
He sank into the sofa, the soft leather cradling him like a dependable embrace.
The room was tranquil; only the occasional rustle of pages and pen strokes could be heard—a comforting silence.
At some point, a soft ticking came from outside. Soon, rain tapped against the windows, gradually growing heavier. The night rain enveloped the world, the sound forming a natural lullaby, coaxing one to sleep in the warm, peaceful space.
Curled up on the sofa, Qi Ji actually fell asleep.
When he awoke, the rain had stopped. The man was gone; the living room was empty except for Qi Ji. The overhead lights were dimmed to a gentle night mode, bathing the room in a warm yellow glow like a thin veil.
His curled-up posture left him slightly stiff. As he moved, he noticed a soft Persian-style blanket had been draped over him.
Despite the overnight rain, the indoor temperature was unaffected, and wrapped in the warm blanket, Qi Ji felt no chill.
Sitting up, something slipped down from behind his neck. Reaching back, he found a soft pillow wedged between his back and the sofa.
Groggy from sleep, he stared at it, finally realizing its shape and pattern: it was a cat-paw-shaped cushion.
The pillow was cute, fluffy, and comfortable to hug or rest on. The only incongruity was its style—somewhat out of place in this villa. Even having seen the CEO’s stuffed toys, Qi Ji couldn’t imagine Pei Yusheng using a cat-paw pillow.
Perhaps… it belonged to the guest bedroom’s previous occupant?
Thinking this, Qi Ji stretched his legs. He only intended to ease his stiff body, but the moment he moved, his body reacted fiercely.
His foot nearly gave way; he almost tumbled from the sofa.
Barely holding on, he remembered: it was already morning.
The lingering effects of his medicine made it impossible to control his body. The dreaded morning reaction, which had recently subsided, was awakened again by the night’s abrupt arousal.
A single inadvertent motion had ignited a wildfire. The leather sofa formed a shallow depression, and Qi Ji gritted his teeth, praying to survive this sudden torment.
His thoughts were chaotic, yet he couldn’t ignore the sharp panic. Though he was alone in the living room, the semi-open space left him completely unsafe, sweat breaking out on his forehead and neck.
He had to leave immediately…
“Huff… ugh…”
The rapid panting gradually subsided, and the suffocating intensity that had threatened to black out Qi Ji’s vision began to ebb. He clutched the soft cat-paw pillow with a sense of exhaustion, cold sweat sliding down his neck, yet he still didn’t dare let go of the warm, heavy blanket that cocooned him.
Only when the scorching heat in his lower abdomen finally dissipated through his limbs did Qi Ji tentatively move his legs, trying to stand.
He had no time to spare—each extra second posed another second of danger.
The moment his skin was exposed to the air outside the blanket, a slight chill ran through him. Qi Ji inhaled deeply and, with great effort, slid his feet into the soft slippers by the sofa.
Supporting himself on the sofa, he leveraged his strength to stand. His weak legs trembled slightly; every breeze brushing against his skin felt like a sharp stimulus, and simply maintaining his balance almost exhausted him completely.
Even so, the worst scenario he imagined was merely failing to stand steadily.
He could not have foreseen the cruel reality.
The instant he released his grip on the sofa, he heard footsteps behind him.
A moist warmth followed, brushing against his skin like a cool, tender hand, teasing him with a dangerous allure he couldn’t resist.
A tingle ran down the back of Qi Ji’s neck; his body recognized the threat before his mind did.
His legs, too weak to support him, gave way. Fingers outstretched in a last attempt to grab something, they caught nothing.
Qi Ji fell straight off the sofa, the heavy descent threatening to slam him into the cold floor.
“…”
There was no time to cry out; the sound was stifled in his throat. The wind whistled past his ears, and in that last second before impact, his only defense was his body’s instinct, his muscles’ reflex. He reached out to brace himself, hoping to cushion the fall.
But the contact he felt was not the hard floor or the sting of his wrists—it was warmth.
Qi Ji’s eyes snapped open.
“Ugh…!”
The darkness before him was not dizziness from the fall, but the complete obstruction of his vision.
He was enveloped by an enticing heat.
From his cheeks and hands to his lower abdomen and back, a firm, strong arm held him tightly, as though attempting to fuse him entirely into another body.
Qi Ji had stumbled, yet had fallen directly into a solid embrace.
A faintly cool sensation pressed against his cheek, while the clear, rhythmic beat of a heart sounded in his ear. Each thump reverberated through his eardrums and struck deeper, tugging at the cord called reason.
His body ignited again.
But this time, it was no longer the unbearable torment of pain.
Dizzy and breathless, Qi Ji tried to dispel the heat with exhalations, unaware that such a feeble attempt would have almost no effect, yet could affect the other person profoundly.
“Pei…”
The words faltered, burned away in his throat. The scorching heat wrapped him completely, while the fire within him consumed his rationality, dragging him back into a blaze.
He had no sense of how long he burned like this.
Until a droplet fell. Like an ice crystal hitting hot oil, it hissed sharply by his ear.
The cold water struck his flushed ear, rolling down his reddened neck. That faint chill finally restored Qi Ji’s awareness.
“Plop.”
Another droplet landed on his nose.
He looked up in confusion, seeing a tense, firm jawline and damp strands of hair.
The droplets had fallen from slightly stiff black hair, some splashing onto him, some tracing the smooth, taut contours of the neck and chest.
Qi Ji’s gaze caught the water tracing over the prominent Adam’s apple.
Instinctively, he shivered, sensing some subtle danger.
Even without raising his eyes, he knew:
Above him awaited a pair of pale, indifferent eyes, barely concealing their predatory edge.
“President Pei…”
Finally, the title forced its way out of his long-held throat.
“Sorry… and thank you for helping me.”
He remembered to use both hands to brace himself and pull back. But when he tried, the warm, resilient touch beneath his palms froze him in place, causing him to hurriedly retract.
The man’s bathrobe was thin, and his body heat transmitted clearly through the fabric. Perhaps due to the previous abrupt movement, the front of the robe had shifted, losing its original form.
Half a month ago, Qi Ji had watched this person jogging early in the morning and had quietly admired the contours of his muscles. He never imagined that, in such a short time, he would have the chance for such close contact.
Rationality returned, and with it came an overwhelming embarrassment. He could only rely on the strained serious expression on his face to mask the flustered state of his mind.
“Sorry, I—slipped… ugh!”
Before he could finish apologizing, he was abruptly scooped up in a horizontal hold, cutting off his words.
Qi Ji’s body sank; he hadn’t even had the chance to create distance when, in the next instant, he was back in someone’s arms.
“Careful.”
The low, slightly hoarse voice sounded at his ear. Anyone hearing such a deep, magnetic tone up close would consider it a pleasure.
But for Qi Ji, whose senses were still heightened from the lingering effects of the medicine, it was another jolt of stimulation to his sensitive ears.
He shivered from the ticklish sensation, and when he tried to speak again, his voice grew hurried.
“President Pei, I can walk myself… please let me—”
Before he could finish, he felt himself being gently lowered.
The man hadn’t crossed any boundaries, his movements careful and deliberate as he set Qi Ji back onto the soft sofa.
Qi Ji froze for a moment, only to feel another soft object placed in his arms.
Looking down, he saw a large cat-paw pillow facing him.
The man had stepped back, keeping a respectful distance—enough that Qi Ji didn’t feel his personal space was invaded.
“You can walk on your own?”
Pei Yusheng adjusted his bathrobe and asked in a deep voice.
Dazed from the succession of unexpected events, Qi Ji nodded instinctively. “Yes, I can.”
Pei Yusheng didn’t press further.
“It’s still early,” he said. “Go back to bed and rest a little more.”
Having witnessed Pei Yusheng’s aggressive side before, Qi Ji hadn’t anticipated such a prompt and decisive retreat.
He couldn’t gauge emotions or empathize; he could only rely on his experience from maintaining facades and responded dryly, “You should rest too, President Pei.”
Unexpectedly, this seemingly polite remark received a serious reply.
“I’ve already rested.”
Qi Ji blinked in surprise and subconsciously glanced at the coffee table.
On the other side, the tablet and computer were still in place. The previously uneven stacks of documents had now been neatly aligned.
The files had clearly been dealt with.
Outside, the sky had yet to lighten—it was barely six o’clock. Qi Ji had fallen asleep around three in the morning. In just over two hours, Pei Yusheng had completed heavy work and even taken a shower, leaving little evidence of sleep.
Yet Qi Ji breathed a sigh of relief at this.
He wasn’t sure whether it was because the man cared about his body or because Pei Yusheng was being untruthful.
The stack of files hadn’t been cleared away; left out in the open, it subtly pressured Qi Ji. He didn’t feel he deserved such trust. If Pei Yusheng had concealed the truth, he might have felt more at ease.
Before he could fully relax, Pei Yusheng’s low voice reached him again.
“Last night, in your room, didn’t I already sleep?”
Qi Ji: “…??”
He widened his eyes in shock and instinctively looked at Pei Yusheng.
That was supposed to count as sleep?
It had lasted only a few dozen minutes—at most an hour. Even a short nap would feel brief.
Qi Ji couldn’t respond, and when he looked again, he noticed droplets rolling down from the man’s hair.
Pei Yusheng had a towel draped over him, but perhaps hadn’t had time to dry completely. The crystal-clear droplets ran down his firm shoulders and collarbones, making Qi Ji’s throat dry.
He couldn’t help but recall the sensation of the earlier water droplets hitting his own skin.
Unable to continue speaking, and caught by Pei Yusheng’s gaze, Qi Ji forced himself to change the topic. “President Pei, you haven’t dried your hair… maybe you should blow-dry it.”
The words escaped before he realized—they mirrored what Pei Yusheng had said last night.
Stiff with tension, Qi Ji heard Pei Yusheng chuckle softly.
He couldn’t help but feel concerned.
Was it past six yet? If not, would drying hair fall under the caretaker’s duties?
Still sensitive, Qi Ji found the close proximity unbearable for the moment.
However, Pei Yusheng only smiled and then collected the tablet and computer, heading upstairs.
Of course, a hair dryer was available upstairs.
Qi Ji exhaled subconsciously, relaxing his tense back, as if he had just endured some trial.
He had only just begun to relax when he heard his name called.
“Qi Ji.”
His fingertips twitched as he looked up.
Pei Yusheng stood at the second-floor stairwell, leaning forward to speak.
“I’m going to start a video conference, about two hours. If you’re hungry, go to the kitchen and get something to eat. Lin won’t be here today; there’s ready-made food in the fridge—just heat it up.”
Qi Ji obediently replied, “Understood.”
Pei Yusheng finally left.
Soon after, the sound of a door closing upstairs reached him. Qi Ji exhaled and tried walking a couple of times, finally regaining the ability to move independently.
Speaking of which, he realized he was actually a little hungry.
After sweating, he had quickly rinsed off. Now he headed to the kitchen.
Passing the living room, he noticed the stack of documents still on the table, untouched. For some reason, there didn’t seem to be any staff around today—only the two of them.
Oh, and a little star.
Qi Ji retrieved the tablet he had borrowed and saw the three-hour tiger documentary still playing in the background, almost finished. He returned the tablet so Star could finish watching it.
The kitchen had two rows of built-in freezers, neatly stocked with food. Qi Ji had just taken a slice of strawberry mousse when the doorbell light on the kitchen screen suddenly began flashing wildly, as if it had malfunctioned.
He hesitated for a moment, but still took a small bite of the mousse.
Qi Ji knew that the villa was equipped with a complete security system. If someone rang the doorbell, the alert would certainly be sent to Pei Yusheng.
He just didn’t know whether Pei Yusheng, currently in a meeting, could receive it.
The doorbell light kept flashing, relentless, but no one answered.
Normally, this wasn’t part of Qi Ji’s responsibilities. To be honest, he wasn’t yet fully clear on the scope of his duties. But with the urgent flashing light, worried that something important might be delayed, he decided to try calling from the kitchen screen to the master bedroom upstairs.
Unexpectedly, the internal line rang only once before being cut off. A prompt appeared on the screen: [The current line is in high-security mode and cannot be connected.]
Qi Ji furrowed his brows.
Probably because the meeting required confidentiality, he thought, which was why he couldn’t get through.
Unable to reach Pei Yusheng, and with the doorbell still flashing insistently, Qi Ji set down the half-eaten strawberry mousse and went to the entryway screen. He tapped the flashing doorbell icon.
The video feed popped up: a young man with his hair tied in a small bun at the back was pressing the doorbell anxiously.
Qi Ji recognized him.
Normally, the doorbell alert would give a sound outside but no visual of the interior. The young man seemed oblivious and pressed several more times before realizing the connection had been made.
“Second Brother?”
He called out, careful in tone.
“Second Brother, it’s me, Lian Qing. Last time I parked my car in your yard, and I need to use it today. Can you let me in?”
Qi Ji recalled: this was the drunk man from the Huating Club who had mistaken him for a girl.
Now sober, Lian Qing spoke apologetically: “Sorry to bother you so early, Brother. I just need to use the car. You can just let me in through the main gate—I won’t go inside the villa. We can catch up later when you’re free.”
Though the first impression hadn’t been great, he was indeed a companion of Pei Yusheng and couldn’t be faked. And since he wouldn’t enter the villa, Qi Ji thought it over and unlocked the main gate.
The villa had several security layers. Besides the gate guards, there was an automatic lock requiring either a key card or fingerprint for access. To be safe, Qi Ji checked the nearby camera to confirm the man had indeed used his fingerprint and was verified before granting entry.
But his guard hadn’t fully relaxed when a video feed suddenly showed a group of tall, heavily armed men at the checkpoint.
They were fully geared—helmets, radios, even carrying batons—looking like they intended to storm a fortress as if on a mission.
Qi Ji’s heart jumped. When he tried to lock the gate again, it was too late. Sparks flared on the screen and it went black. Two steps away, subtle sounds came from the villa’s main door, as if someone were picking the lock.
Their movements were frighteningly fast, almost ghost-like, landing at the door in an instant. Qi Ji only had time to hit the emergency mode button after confirming the fingerprint. Then he heard the door creak—it was being pushed open from outside.
There was no time to move further. Qi Ji’s vigilance peaked, bracing for an intense confrontation.
The door opened, but the group didn’t rush in. Fully armed, they only showed their hawk-like eyes, tense and cautious as they peered inside.
When they saw Qi Ji, however, their movements froze, their eyes showing clear surprise and hesitation.
Neither side moved.
Finally, the leader outside tilted his head toward his earpiece and spoke in a low voice: “Target incorrect. Maintain vigilance. Watch your surroundings.”
Qi Ji: “…”
What did that mean? There were only two people inside. If the target was wrong, they must have been after Pei Yusheng.
He scanned the group outside. Batons, nets, stun guns—they looked like they were hunting some extremely dangerous fugitive.
A young man pushed through to the front, startled to see Qi Ji.
“Who are you?”
He asked cautiously, eyes darting behind Qi Ji as if expecting some sudden threat to emerge.
Qi Ji frowned. “Lian Qing?”
His memory wasn’t wrong—it was indeed Lian Qing.
But why had Lian Qing brought such a force to break into Pei Yusheng’s home?
Lian Qing blinked. “You know me?”
He raised his voice slightly before quickly lowering it again, as if realizing the danger of being overheard.
“No time for this—where’s my second brother? Where’s Pei Ershao?”
Before Qi Ji could answer, a sound came from behind him.
At this cue, the group outside was startled. With a rustling, they raised their weapons in unison—even Lian Qing lifted his protective gear.
Qi Ji looked bewildered at the scene.
The sound had actually come from Star.
“The Call of the Wild—Tiger Episode has finished playing. Up next: The Secret of the Kittens…”
Lian Qing’s expression could no longer be described as surprise—it was outright panic. He had to lower his voice to even ask questions.
“How is there such loud audio? Didn’t the notice warn that at this time we mustn’t approach him or use sound that might stimulate him?!”