A low, muffled sound slipped through the narrow seam of his tightly bitten lips, tinged with a faint, fragile nasal note. Qi Ji fought desperately to suppress it, afraid that if his voice carried outside, the people beyond the door would hear.
But his fear did nothing to restrain the instigator. Qi Ji could clearly feel that the moment his stifled sound escaped, the breath brushing against his neck only grew heavier, and the solid arm around his waist tightened instantly, as if intent on pressing his entire body into another set of bones and flesh.
Only then did Qi Ji realize just how much force the man behind him had been using since the moment they met.
Before he could think further, footsteps in the corridor had already reached the door. There wasn’t much in the way of private space nearby; it didn’t take long for those people to find this quiet restroom.
Someone knocked lightly on the restroom door, testing the waters as they called out, “President Pei?”
“President Pei? Are you in there?”
Even with the stall door blocking their view, so they couldn’t see what was happening inside, the mere fact that there was only a single door between them was enough to make one’s nerves go taut.
It felt as if even breathing a little too loudly would give them away.
Qi Ji had plenty of experience hiding his presence and controlling his breathing in preparation for a fight, yet faced with this situation, he still felt helpless to the point of agony.
In contrast, the man behind him didn’t let the slightest ripple show—even in his voice when he spoke.
“I’m here.”
The low voice sounded right by his ear, sending another faint itch through it, but Qi Ji had no attention to spare for that now. When the man answered, one hand even reached over and covered Qi Ji’s mouth and nose.
His breathing was instantly filled with the other’s scent—still that scorching warmth, a light fragrance like sunlight blazing overhead. Qi Ji was physically silenced by the man’s actions, his body stiffening involuntarily at the sudden contact.
Then he heard the man behind him continue.
“You all go in first. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Oh—okay, okay,” someone replied outside. “We’re in the very center of the A1 section. You’ll see us as soon as you come in.”
“Mm.”
“There are twenty minutes until it starts. We’ll head over first, President Pei.”
The restroom door was closed carefully, and the footsteps in the corridor gradually faded away. Qi Ji let out a breath, only to realize belatedly that his breathing just now had all been directed straight into the man’s palm.
“Mmh…”
He struggled slightly, and it felt as though his ear brushed against the man’s hand as well, the heat making it burn hotter and hotter.
Sensing his movement, the hand—long-fingered, with dry, clean warmth—finally moved away from his face.
“Did I stifle you?” Pei Yusheng asked.
The hold around his waist loosened a little, and Qi Ji was guided by the shoulder to turn around, facing that familiar, handsome, sharply defined face.
After several days apart, the man’s presence was undiminished. Seen up close, he was even more arresting, the kind that made you feel you’d fall in deeper with just one more look. He was dressed in a tailored suit, the fabric visibly expensive—yet he had wrapped Qi Ji up in it without hesitation, apparently unconcerned about wrinkling bespoke attire.
Qi Ji swallowed unconsciously.
He hadn’t actually been stifled. But for some reason, facing the man in front of him, Qi Ji felt his throat tighten inexplicably, his breathing turning just a bit uneven.
Though it was a stall, the space wasn’t cramped—more than enough for two people to stand without feeling suffocated. But perhaps because the man was so tall and imposing, standing face to face with him always brought a subtle, indescribable pressure.
Added to that was the gaze that swept over him like someone inspecting territory and possessions, making Qi Ji even more uncomfortable. He nearly failed to keep up his usual obedient façade and could only answer stiffly,
“No…”
As soon as the word left his mouth, his cheek was brushed again by a bent finger.
“Why is your face so cold?” Pei Yusheng asked. Compared to Qi Ji’s unease, his tone was perfectly natural. “Your body too—are you cold? Why didn’t you dress warmer?”
Qi Ji’s body temperature ran low; his hands and feet were cold year-round. In summer it was already like this, let alone now, in early winter. He was long used to it and didn’t feel particularly cold—if anything, his face felt a little warm from the earlier embrace.
Qi Ji was about to shake his head, but before he could speak, the man had already made the decision for him. “Where are you sitting? I’ll have someone bring you a light blanket.”
Qi Ji startled and hurriedly said, “There’s no need to trouble you, President Pei—”
“It’s no trouble,” Pei Yusheng replied. “And you called me wrong again.”
His chin was lightly flicked, more a mock punishment than a serious one. Qi Ji didn’t really understand why the man kept emphasizing the form of address and could only explain, “Mr. Pei, this is still the company…”
He also reminded him, “And the meeting’s about to start in a few minutes.”
“I know.” Pei Yusheng lowered his voice, letting out what sounded like a silent sigh.
Qi Ji looked up at him instinctively, only to feel warmth at his back as he was pulled into another embrace.
This face-to-face hug was even tighter than before. Through a layer of clothing, the man pressed a hand to the back of Qi Ji’s neck, drawing him fully into his arms, resting his chin lightly atop Qi Ji’s hair.
His breathing was heavier now, his voice hoarse. Though it was spoken softly, it sounded almost like a murmur to himself.
“But I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in thirteen days.”
Leaning against his chest, Qi Ji couldn’t see his face, but he could imagine the exhaustion there.
He parted his lips, but in the end, his dry, constricted throat couldn’t force out a complete sentence.
All Qi Ji could do was awkwardly lift his arms and return the hug, wrapping them around this man who stood like a pillar of heaven and earth, whose spine was always straight as a spear.
Yet what he held was not a cold gun barrel, nor a sharpened blade. Beneath the hard, upright lines of bone and muscle, what Qi Ji embraced was the man’s searing heat… and his one point of softness.
The restroom was utterly quiet. The noise from the corridor outside gradually faded away, leaving only the overlapping sounds of their breathing in this small corner.
After a long while, Pei Yusheng finally lifted his head, loosening the near-constricting hold just a little.
Feeling the weight at his crown ease, Qi Ji was about to ask how he was when he heard him say, “Did you change your body wash?”
Qi Ji froze, not understanding why the president would suddenly bring that up, but he answered honestly anyway. “I’ve been staying at home these past few days… I used the body wash at home.”
Pei Yusheng asked, “Lemon-scented?”
He seemed a bit more alert now, his voice carrying a note of interest.
“I’m not really sure,” Qi Ji said. “I wasn’t home for a while. This time I just borrowed Mingyu’s body wash.”
Afraid the other might not know, he added, “Mingyu is my younger brother.”
Qi Ji was still seriously answering the question, unaware that the moment the word “borrowed” left his mouth, the man in front of him fell suddenly silent.
“Mr. Pei?” Not getting a response, Qi Ji felt puzzled. He was still thinking about the meeting. “It’s about to start—”
But before he could finish, he was cut off. Pei Yusheng said abruptly, “Lemon doesn’t smell good. Go back to the villa and switch to a different scent.”
Huh? Qi Ji was taken aback. He hadn’t expected the president to care about something like that.
But hadn’t the guest bathroom at the villa also been stocked with lemon-scented body wash? Qi Ji had been using it all along during the caregiving period, and he’d never heard President Pei comment on it. Why the sudden dislike now?
Still, the other man was his boss, and changing body wash was hardly a big deal. Qi Ji agreed, “Okay.”
Only then did Pei Yusheng say, “Let’s go.”
Although their seats weren’t together, they both entered through A Entrance, and it wouldn’t be appropriate for them to go in side by side. Pei Yusheng left first. After washing his hands, Qi Ji hurried into the hall and returned to his seat.
He had barely sat down when he saw Chen Zixuan, who had eaten lunch with him earlier that day, walking over.
Qi Ji assumed she was just passing by and lifted a hand to greet her, but to his surprise, Chen Zixuan stopped beside his seat—she was actually coming over for him.
“Xiao Qi.”
Quite a few people in the company recognized the vice president’s special assistant. As soon as Chen Zixuan approached, several gazes in the area shifted toward them. She didn’t seem to mind and asked Qi Ji, “Isn’t there a name tag on your seat?”
Those being commended were seated in the front rows, with name labels and employee codes affixed to their seats. But Qi Ji was an intern, not yet officially hired, so he didn’t have that information; his seat was still unmarked.
“No,” Qi Ji said. “Why, senior?”
When she heard him call her “senior,” the surrounding gazes gradually withdrew. Yuntu was a tech company that recruited many outstanding graduates from top universities; alumni connections were common.
Chen Zixuan said, “You’ll be going on stage later, and when you come back it might be easy to mix up seats. Here’s a light blanket—take it with you. When you go up, leave the blanket on your seat; it’ll make it easier to find when you come back.”
As she spoke, she handed over the thin blanket she’d been holding and added, “Once the meeting starts, it won’t be convenient to move around. Just keep the blanket with you. You can return it later when there’s time. This area is a bit far from the central air conditioning, so it might get cold. You can drape it over yourself.”
Qi Ji accepted the blanket. “Okay. Thank you, senior.”
Chen Zixuan turned and left. Qi Ji held the blanket, and the moment he saw the pattern on it, his movements stalled.
That familiar style and the dense knotting technique—this was unmistakably the craftsmanship of a handmade Persian rug.
Qi Ji had researched Persian rugs before while gathering materials for design drafts, but the last—and only—time he’d seen a genuine handmade one in person was when he’d fallen asleep on the sofa at the Rose Villa and woken to find one draped over him.
This kind of throw was far too expensive; authentic pieces were rarely seen. Even with Chen Zixuan’s income, it would have been impossible for her to afford one.
Qi Ji lifted his head instinctively and looked toward the front. It took him only a moment to spot that man in the crowd—the one who was always dazzling, always the center of attention.
Pei Yusheng was listening to something a senior executive beside him was saying, his profile sharp and handsome. On his other side sat the ever-stern Vice President Zhang. The two weren’t talking, but the fact that they could sit together calmly was already enough to shock anyone who believed the rumors that they were at odds.
After all, in the gossip mill, the two were supposed to be like fire and water, unable to stand each other.
Qi Ji could vaguely guess that President Pei and Vice President Zhang’s relationship wasn’t as bad as rumored—but the truth seemed even better than he’d imagined.
Thinking of what the man had just said, Qi Ji pressed his lips together slightly.
Had President Pei asked Vice President Zhang for help, which was why Chen Zixuan had delivered the blanket?
At a large, formal event like this, one person pulling out a blanket would definitely draw attention—and Qi Ji was only an intern, making it even more inappropriate. But if Chen Zixuan delivered it under this pretext, everything became perfectly reasonable.
President Pei had his own special assistant, yet he had deliberately gone through Vice President Zhang, letting Chen Zixuan—who had the additional identity of a senior from school—bring the blanket over. Hearing Qi Ji call her “senior” would only put people further at ease.
If Qi Ji hadn’t already heard Pei Yusheng mention sending a blanket, he himself wouldn’t have thought much of it.
At that thought, Qi Ji’s fingers tightened slightly.
It wasn’t that Qi Ji had never worried about his side job being discovered by coworkers.
In daily life, he never mentioned these things. In the restroom just now, he’d held his breath to avoid being noticed. It wasn’t that he was deliberately trying to draw a line between himself and Pei Yusheng—it was just that he carried too many debts and secrets, long accustomed to minimizing his presence among classmates and colleagues.
He didn’t want to be noticed.
Yet before Qi Ji could even worry about it, Pei Yusheng had already handled everything so thoroughly. Qi Ji himself had nearly overlooked it; there was no way others would suspect anything, let alone notice the president’s special consideration toward an intern.
The thin blanket draped over his legs, the fine warmth of top-grade silk and wool chased away the chill on his skin. Qi Ji hugged the blanket, yet his thoughts remained tangled and unsettled.
He didn’t know if he was overthinking it.
But if he wasn’t—
Not far away, Pei Yusheng, who had been listening to an executive speak, suddenly lifted his gaze and swept his eyes toward the back.
Qi Ji, who had been unconsciously staring at the man’s profile while lost in thought, didn’t have time to look away.
His blank, unguarded gaze landed squarely in the man’s line of sight—and he was caught.