Even recognizing him, Qi Ji’s aversion did not dissipate.
The lingering effects of the medication, coupled with his naturally sensitive constitution, made it unbearable for him to be held so restrictively. He instinctively continued to struggle.
Pei Yusheng, by nature highly assertive, pressing in so closely made Qi Ji feel as if he were a prey pinned under a predator’s claws. Qi Ji took a deep breath, his strength undiminished, voice slightly cold: “President Pei, please let go.”
In contrast, the man holding him softened his tone.
The low, husky voice was almost a whisper, the magnetic trailing sound making Qi Ji’s ears go weak.
“Let me hold you for a little… just a moment.”
Qi Ji frowned.
The man didn’t press further; in fact, the heat near his neck shifted slightly. The blazing warmth moved to his chest, as if Pei Yusheng had leaned down to rest against Qi Ji’s heart… listening to its beating.
“Sorry…”
The low, hoarse murmur drifted through the silent night, inexplicably stirring a hesitant urge in Qi Ji, difficult to resist.
His struggle weakened, though his body remained tense and rigid.
After a long while, the force restraining his wrists relaxed, and the previously pressing presence beside his ear gradually calmed. Qi Ji kept his eyes open in the darkness, clearly sensing the violent, feral aura around the man gradually recede.
It was like a restless beast finally confirming the ownership of its treasure, retracting its claws slowly, focusing only on embracing what it loved, leaving behind its personal mark.
The room fell silent for a long time.
Sitting stiff for so long caused his body to ache and tingle, uncomfortable but not his main concern. What troubled him most was the unease and restlessness from having his personal space breached.
Qi Ji naturally disliked being too close to others, always careful to maintain distance. Now, with the medication still affecting him, the sensation of skin pressed against skin was even harder to endure.
Pei Yusheng’s aura reminded him of the scorching sun. But now Qi Ji himself was a combustible object, filled with lingering medicine—unable to endure even the slightest spark, let alone the sun’s blaze.
If not for remembering the part-time contract he had signed and the uninterrupted remittance notifications over the past few days, he wouldn’t have tolerated Pei Yusheng’s actions, even if the man’s words seemed reasonable.
But the effect of wages only went so far. As the tension in his lower abdomen intensified, even heating his ears, Qi Ji could no longer endure and tried to negotiate, attempting to have Pei Yusheng release him.
Yet before he could even speak, he heard the other’s calm, shallow, and rhythmic breathing.
Qi Ji froze mid-motion.
His attention, previously captured by the unusual sensations of his body, now shifted to Pei Yusheng—and he realized the man hadn’t moved for a long time.
Qi Ji blinked, slightly stunned.
Was he… asleep?
The room was dark; Qi Ji couldn’t see the man’s face from his angle. But judging from the even rhythm of the breathing, the man’s state was clear.
Pei Yusheng had always been extremely sharp with his vision. During the contract-signing days, whenever Qi Ji glanced at him, Pei Yusheng would immediately notice and return the gaze—like having eyes on his back.
Yet now, Qi Ji had been looking at him for some time, and the man pressed against his chest remained motionless, without reaction.
He was clearly asleep.
But this was strange… Qi Ji was bewildered. Why would the CEO, rarely seen during the day, come to his room in the middle of the night and squeeze into his bed?
Moreover, Qi Ji didn’t notice Pei Yusheng falling asleep. When a person sleeps, they relax; with Pei Yusheng’s size, holding him like this while asleep would make him extremely heavy, nearly crushing Qi Ji. Yet Qi Ji didn’t feel uncomfortable under the weight. The man pressed against him with surprisingly controlled force.
…Controlled?
Qi Ji frowned.
He didn’t understand why his subconscious chose that word to describe Pei Yusheng.
It didn’t match the impulsive, willful young CEO persona at all.
Qi Ji slowed his movements, taking a silent, deep breath.
Sleeping wouldn’t be a problem—after all, it was Pei Yusheng’s villa, and he could sleep wherever he pleased. With the man asleep, Qi Ji no longer had to worry about any overstepping actions. Listening to the close, steady breathing, his own sleepiness crept back.
Yet the biggest problem was that Qi Ji’s body hadn’t recovered.
The lingering medicine still affected him. Even without external force, waking up in the morning could trigger awkward reactions.
This made him completely unsure of his body’s responses. He could barely ignore the weight to sleep, but he had no idea when Pei Yusheng would wake. Any unconscious contact—or the man waking while he remained half-conscious—could lead to serious consequences…
Consequences Qi Ji didn’t dare imagine.
He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stay awake, and couldn’t move freely—trapped in awkward stillness.
Although Pei Yusheng had released his wrists, he now tightly encircled Qi Ji’s waist. The presence of his arms made Qi Ji feel a strange sensation.
He thought of the long, soft cat Pei Yusheng kept on his bed and felt almost like he’d been turned into another plush toy.
…The CEO truly was still childlike at heart.
Qi Ji remained stiff for a while. Sleepiness and vigilance tugged at him, blurring the sense of time, making the night feel endlessly quiet. Eventually, he even considered trying to sleep, reasoning he couldn’t rest too deeply while this close to someone else.
Unfortunately, this thought soon became reality.
Qi Ji hadn’t slept deeply. So when a subtle, inadvertent brush came from beneath him, he woke almost instantly, nearly screaming.
“Ugh…!”
His tense body suddenly went slack, as if all his strength had been drained. Qi Ji’s eyes pricked with tears.
Even without seeing, he could imagine his own flushed, flustered expression.
Worse, his reaction seemed to transmit through their shared contact. He could no longer convince himself it was an accident; in the next moment, he felt the warmth rise again, returning to his neck.
The worst-case scenario had come true—Murphy’s law in action.
Qi Ji struggled to calm himself, tilting his head to avoid contact and escape the embarrassing situation. But as soon as he moved, a low, magnetic voice spoke beside him.
“Sorry.”
Pei Yusheng had woken.
“Sorry for disturbing you.”
His voice, clearer and more rational than before, sounded composed. Yet this rationality was no relief for Qi Ji; within seconds, Pei Yusheng noticed his unusual state.
“Qi Ji? Are you okay?”
The deep, close voice nearly reverberated through Qi Ji’s ears. He gritted his teeth, struggled to catch his breath, and finally managed two words:
“…I’m fine.”
He didn’t know if the reply was enough to appease Pei, but was relieved when Pei didn’t continue the topic.
“Sorry.”
The man repeated his apology solemnly.
“I have occasional insomnia, which sometimes triggers palpitations. It flared up tonight, so I came in without asking.”
Insomnia?
Qi Ji gradually came back to his senses from his earlier reaction. Hearing that statement naturally made him suspicious.
The man had clearly fallen asleep almost immediately after holding him so closely.
Yet after saying that, Pei Yusheng loosened his hold slightly, which lent some credibility to the explanation.
Qi Ji immediately turned to the side and freed himself from Pei Yusheng’s embrace.
The room was still dark, so he didn’t see the shadow pass over Pei Yusheng’s light-colored eyes as he watched Qi Ji so hastily try to escape.
But this time, he faced no obstruction.
Pei Yusheng soon got up from the bed and stood.
“Get some rest.”
With that, the man simply left.
As the footsteps receded and the door clicked shut, Qi Ji finally exhaled in relief.
Yet he couldn’t really continue sleeping as the man had suggested—he still had to deal with his own body’s reactions.
Sometimes in the early morning, Qi Ji would experience these effects due to the lingering medicine. He couldn’t blame Pei Yusheng for that.
Still, the night’s peaceful sleep had been forcibly interrupted, so Qi Ji got out of bed and took a cold shower.
Afterwards, he noticed that the hairdryer was broken. All the appliances in the room were connected to the smart system. Qi Ji called to Star a few times but received no response.
He thought: It was working before bed… has it gone into sleep mode for the night?
With hair still wet and the water cold, it would be uncomfortable to sleep, so Qi Ji left the guest bedroom, intending to check the bathroom near the living room.
When he opened the bedroom door, he saw the lights outside were on.
Qi Ji assumed Pei Yusheng had returned to the master bedroom on the second floor—but after only a few steps, he unexpectedly ran into the man sitting on the living room sofa.
Pei Yusheng wasn’t resting; he was reviewing files. A tablet and computer were lit in front of him, and a stack of paper reports lay nearby.
Hearing the movement, the man looked up. He was about to speak but noticed Qi Ji’s wet hair and frowned, showing clear disapproval.
“Why didn’t you dry your hair?”
Having been seen, Qi Ji couldn’t retreat. He was about to explain when Pei Yusheng set the files aside, got up, and went to the bathroom to retrieve the hairdryer.
Seeing the man plug it in and prepare to help him, Qi Ji’s breath caught, and the back of his neck tensed.
He politely refused: “No need to trouble yourself, President Pei. I’ll do it myself, thank you.”
As he took the hairdryer, the man stayed nearby. Qi Ji pressed his lips together and looked down: “Since President Pei hired me, just treat me as an employee. No need for formalities.”
His tone was polite and courteous, exuding distance.
The man raised an eyebrow and asked: “And what do you think I treat you as?”
Qi Ji frowned slightly, expression neutral: “I feel… President Pei… always treats me like a child.”
He chose a tactful way of phrasing it. Pei Yusheng chuckled.
Qi Ji looked up, seeing the man’s lips curved in a smile, mood seemingly much lighter than when he had abruptly entered before.
Catching Qi Ji’s gaze again, Pei Yusheng waved his hand: “It’s nothing.”
Seeing Qi Ji’s doubt, he added: “Maybe because you look like a child.”
Qi Ji fell silent.
He recalled the time at the bar, being cornered and called “little one” after being seen the whole way through.
Well… considering the CEO was still the type to sleep with a stuffed toy, Qi Ji didn’t dwell further on this.
He turned on the hairdryer, the gentle warm air like sunlight enveloping him. Its silent mode wasn’t bothersome at all.
Qi Ji clearly heard Pei Yusheng’s voice again:
“I’ve had chronic insomnia, which can occasionally trigger chain reactions.”
The man sat back on the sofa, one hand resting on its back, calm and leisurely.
Though discussing his condition, his tone was free of distress, fully composed as usual.
“Sometimes, when it’s severe, I need to hear someone else’s heartbeat. It reassures me that I’m not alone in this space, so I can calm down.”
Qi Ji paused mid-blow-dry.
Pei Yusheng looked up: “Not many people know this. I need someone I can trust with this secret. That’s why I hired you, to be my night-time caretaker.”
He folded his arms across his abdomen—a relaxed yet controlled posture.
“This is your job.”
Qi Ji lowered the hairdryer, replying seriously: “Understood, President Pei. I understand.”
Faced with Qi Ji’s work-like attitude, Pei Yusheng showed no expression, saying only: “Since you must be on call at night, which could affect your rest, I compensate with wages.”
Qi Ji nodded: “Thank you, President Pei. I’ll keep your secret diligently.”
His answer was thorough, airtight, rational, and calm—focused solely on the professional benefit.
Pei Yusheng understood, replying only: “Good.”
With the conversation over, they both resumed their respective tasks.
For Qi Ji, who had been on edge, the dialogue gave him a tangible sense of reassurance. After finishing his hair, he returned to his room.
Before leaving, he returned the hairdryer to its place. Passing the living room, he glimpsed Pei Yusheng still at work.
The man appeared scattered, capricious, and untidy, yet quietly handled heavy work unseen by others.
Back in the guest bedroom, Qi Ji, now alert after the shower, hesitated but decided to continue working.
Although his body needed rest, the shock and cold water had awakened him, and he didn’t know if his employer would require more tasks tonight—better to wait until his part-time shift ended in the morning.
The studio project was submitted, and he had a day off tomorrow, so no need to go there.
Yet when he tried to start the computer, he ran into a problem.
The house computer had no physical switch, requiring Star to power it on. But tonight Star’s sensitivity had changed; it hadn’t responded to his earlier hairdryer query, and repeated calls still didn’t wake it.
Qi Ji frowned. What was wrong with Star tonight?
Without the computer, he couldn’t work. He planned to use his laptop instead but remembered it was packed in the suitcase he had brought from the studio. Since it was late, he hadn’t unpacked it; the suitcase wheels were dirty and noisy, so he left it at the entrance.
Qi Ji hesitated.
The entrance wasn’t far from the guest room, and the laptop was on top of the suitcase—it wasn’t hard to retrieve. Should he go now?
His main concern was Pei Yusheng in the living room, but the screen partition blocked most of the view from the guest room. Moving carefully, he could likely take the laptop without being noticed.
The door made little noise when opened. Remembering Pei Yusheng had put on Bluetooth headphones earlier, Qi Ji hesitated, called Star again, and, seeing no response, gently opened the door.
No sound.
A good start felt like half the battle; Qi Ji relaxed.
But as he tried to edge past the partition, he suddenly heard a familiar voice:
“I’m here, I’m here.”
It was Star, which had failed to respond earlier.
The scariest part—it wasn’t coming from the guest room but from the living room speakers.
Star had finally been awakened, but now in the living room, responding not just once:
“I’m here, Star is here. How can I help you?”
Qi Ji froze at the doorway.
He didn’t even dare lift his head. The sweet mechanical voice made it worse.
“Current time: 2:15 a.m. Child protection mode is on. Little ones who don’t sleep won’t grow tall. Why aren’t you asleep yet?”
Qi Ji had tried to soften his voice, but even someone half-deaf would have been woken by Star.
And it revealed who had called it.
Naturally, the man in the living room, whom Qi Ji had been trying so hard not to alert, looked up.
“What is it?”