The car’s heater was on, and the warm air brushed gently against Qi Ji’s cheeks, yet it did little to warm his slightly chilled body.
Only then did he become acutely aware of his own tension.
Just an arm’s length away sat the man who had so recently stood at the center of the stage, commanding the gaze of thousands yet somehow able to lock eyes with Qi Ji from the crowd. And now, in the closed space of the car, undisturbed by anyone, that same gaze remained fixed solely on him.
Qi Ji instinctively swallowed hard.
He could see Pei Yusheng’s eyes—pale and bottomless, a hue Qi Ji had never seen in anyone from their country, as if dusted with a thin layer of gold. Those eyes were unusual; at first glance, they didn’t seem entirely human, more like the vertical pupils of a predator.
Qi Ji had sometimes wondered if the CEO might be mixed-race. His facial structure was so sculpted, his nose and brow bone the kind that a master sculptor would covet, and those eyes were nothing like ordinary black or brown. But Qi Ji never asked. Those thoughts remained locked quietly in his mind. What he truly understood was Pei Yusheng’s character, nothing more.
Yet even with that understanding, being watched by those pale eyes instilled a sense of pressure in him.
Every time he had accidentally met Pei Yusheng’s gaze before, Qi Ji would instinctively look away. But now, so close together, he had no easy way to escape, and his voice grew taut.
“Why… do you care about what I think?”
The words stumbled out, more nervous than any of their prior conversations. Though he didn’t fully understand why, Qi Ji’s body had already reacted instinctively, bracing itself.
Then he heard a soft laugh.
A hand reached over and ruffled his hair, easing that unnamed tension. Pei Yusheng then smoothly brushed Qi Ji’s stray bangs behind his ear, revealing that pale, delicate face.
His voice, calm but tinged with amusement, said, “Because I don’t want you to see me as someone who can’t do anything, someone who even struggles to sleep.”
Qi Ji blinked. “Why would you—?”
He hadn’t expected that reason.
Pei Yusheng hadn’t explained, but he wasn’t blind. If Qi Ji had a tail, the boy would have already bristled at its tip from instinctual alertness. Like a small cat, sensitive and wary, he had detected danger even before fully understanding the situation.
Pei Yusheng had patiently coaxed him, smoothing the ruffled fur long enough to be allowed close, to be held. He didn’t want to scare this fragile, wary little “kitten” away.
Moreover…
Qi Ji, unaware of all this, hastily tried to explain: “You’re so capable, Mr. Pei… how could you say you can’t do anything…”
Having just witnessed the man’s brilliance, seeing him expose even his vulnerabilities made it hard for Qi Ji to feel at ease. He racked his brain for comforting words and managed: “Besides, insomnia isn’t something one can easily control. If you’re receiving treatment on time and resting properly, it’s fine.”
Pei Yusheng only smiled faintly, seeming unconvinced yet making no effort to argue.
Qi Ji felt a little puzzled.
Pei Yusheng was never a man without confidence, always outstanding in any crowd. Yet here he was, wearing a faint weariness as if old wounds ran deep and fatigue was stubbornly lingering.
Qi Ji suddenly recalled what the man had said in the washroom before the meeting: he hadn’t slept well for thirteen nights.
And today, he had rushed back from a long-haul flight just to give a presentation at the conference.
Even if he hadn’t shown it, Pei Yusheng must have been at his limit.
Qi Ji seemed to understand and chose to drop the topic, quietly saying, “Please get some rest when you get home, Mr. Pei.”
Pei Yusheng pinched his straight, high nose and murmured, “Mm.”
Seeing the obvious fatigue, Qi Ji wanted to remain quiet to let him rest. But Pei Yusheng spoke again: “These days I haven’t slept well. Only during our calls can I nap a little.”
He referred to their private phone calls. Despite staying at home during the two-week trip, Qi Ji still spoke to the CEO daily. Sometimes time zones were off; when Pei Yusheng called late at night, Qi Ji was awake in the day. They would chat briefly, and Qi Ji would wait until the man fell asleep before carefully hanging up.
Curious, Qi Ji asked, “Does that help?”
“Yes.” Pei Yusheng lowered his hand to rest on the chair, reaching the range where Qi Ji was seated.
“But the moment the call ends, I wake up. The nap isn’t long.”
Wake up?
Qi Ji hadn’t expected that; Pei Yusheng hadn’t mentioned it before. Alarmed, he asked, “Did the hang-up sound wake you?”
“No,” Pei Yusheng said.
“It’s because I can’t hear your voice.”
“I…” Qi Ji stammered, “I thought you’d fallen asleep, so I hung up…”
“No problem.” The man raised a hand and touched the back of Qi Ji’s head, smoothing the fine black hair. “Get a good sleep tonight when we get home.”
Though he said this, Qi Ji couldn’t fully shake his guilt. For two weeks on business, Pei Yusheng had consistently sent over his extra salary, yet Qi Ji had hung up the calls early.
Back at the Rose Villa, he obediently put on the white bear pajamas with round ears and a tail ball.
The next morning, Qi Ji even kept himself disciplined, suppressing any thought of being negligent, clinging to the man’s arm as they woke up together.
Over time, Qi Ji had grown slightly accustomed to this routine. Pei Yusheng, by contrast, was far more composed. Qi Ji had never been pushed away in sleep.
That morning, after their usual exercise, they had breakfast together without rushing off.
It was a day off after the employee conference, and Pei Yusheng had no urgent matters. He went to the study, and Qi Ji followed, anticipating the possibility of overseeing him for rest.
Even for a short nap, Pei Yusheng hadn’t slept long the previous night—awake by seven. Qi Ji, mindful of the phone lesson, came to ensure the CEO could rest without worrying.
The study had a single sofa, and Qi Ji sat at a distance, far from the desk, careful not to disturb any work.
These were all his considerations. When he followed, Pei Yusheng had already opened the door, gesturing him inside.
The study matched the villa’s grand and open decor. The only unusual detail was the row of cat-paw pillows on the sofa.
Qi Ji leaned against one, hugging another, nestling into the sofa with a book. It was one of the materials Lina had given him regarding Xinghai, and recently the design department wasn’t busy, so he focused solely on these reference materials.
The book was thin, and Qi Ji read quickly, finishing most of it in short order.
As he turned the page to the next chapter, he heard Pei Yusheng’s voice:
“What are you reading?”
Qi Ji lifted the cover to show him: “A book Lina gave me.”
Lina’s collection was varied, and Qi Ji had sorted them by relevance. He had finished the history of Xinghai and tech-focused texts, leaving only scattered miscellaneous content.
Today’s reading was a booklet about Xinghai’s founder, Xu Yuncheng. Unlike previous biographies or aphorisms, this was an overseas publication, more like a tabloid compilation, including gossip.
Pei Yusheng’s gaze lingered on Xu Yuncheng’s photo briefly, asking, “What’s it about?”
Qi Ji summarized: “It’s a small booklet on Chairman Xu Yuncheng, revealing some family secrets.”
“One chapter doesn’t mention Mr. Xu Hongye, focusing instead on Xu’s peers. It says the chairman’s sister is formidable, apparently holding 5% of Xinghai’s shares herself.”
Though 5% seemed small, insiders knew it represented an astronomical sum.
Unlike other tech giants, Xinghai followed the Hong Kong Xu family tradition, not publicly listed, and adopted employee joint ownership. The founder and his sister held the largest combined share—10%—while the remaining 90% belonged to employees.
Xu Yuncheng was reserved, rarely in the public eye, while his sister, Xu Yunqi, was even more low-profile; few photos online were verifiable.
Qi Ji, being in a subsidiary, knew only that Xu Yunqi was vice-chairman of the board.
He had noticed the repeated marks on the pages about her, likely because Lina had read this one herself.
Qi Ji relayed the relevant details to Pei Yusheng, who nodded: “She is indeed impressive.”
He turned the page. “This booklet exaggerates at times. There’s even a piece claiming the chairman’s wife is extremely strict, preventing young women from approaching him, overly jealous.”
Pei Yusheng smiled, this time without nodding: “That’s false. They’re devoted. Even after years of media scrutiny, no evidence of infidelity was found; it’s just rumors.”
Qi Ji realized: “You know the chairman personally?”
From Pei Yusheng’s tone, they were quite familiar.
“Yes.”
“But we don’t meet often.”
Before Qi Ji could respond, Pei Yusheng approached and adjusted the cat-paw pillow behind him.
“Mr. Pei?” Qi Ji asked, a bit puzzled.
He tried to sit upright, but Pei Yusheng blocked him, reaching out to straighten the pillow.
“Does leaning like this feel uncomfortable?” Pei Yusheng asked.
Qi Ji, trapped between the sofa and the man’s arm, replied, “No, the pillow is soft.”
“Exactly because it’s too soft,” Pei Yusheng pressed the pillow in Qi Ji’s arms, “it lacks support and could strain your back.”
“You spend long hours at the computer too. Should I swap it for a firmer cushion?”
Qi Ji shook his head. “No, it’s not necessary.”
Not out of inconvenience, but because it wasn’t needed. “I know those cushions; some colleagues use them. They’re mainly for correcting poor posture combined with lack of exercise. I move enough and my body handles it; no extra support is required.”
True enough—they had exercised together that morning.
Qi Ji assured, “I’m fine. My back is strong.”
Pei Yusheng smiled, deeper this time, though Qi Ji didn’t notice any hidden meaning in his tone.
“Is that so?” Pei Yusheng said. “Good then.”
The two of them stayed busy for a while longer. After lunch, it was time for the doctor’s home visit.
A full medical team arrived. Besides Dr. Zhao and the familiar doctors from the rehabilitation center, Qi Ji also noticed a tall foreign man with sharp features and a prominent nose among the visitors.
Qi Ji didn’t know him, yet something about him seemed oddly familiar.
Perhaps sensing Qi Ji’s gaze, the foreigner turned and their eyes met.
Qi Ji was taken aback and wondered if he should greet him, when the man spoke fluent Chinese: “You look much better.”
“Huh?” Qi Ji frowned. “Do we know each other?”
The man smiled, and the deep-set brown eyes in his face looked even warmer: “How could we not? The fingerprints you left when you caught me last time took forever to fade.”
Qi Ji hadn’t reacted yet, and Dr. Zhao, hearing their conversation, nearly had a heart attack.
He rushed forward, cutting the man off: “Xin Jie!”
It was lucky that Pei Yusheng hadn’t come downstairs yet—otherwise, Dr. Zhao might have needed artificial respiration right there.
Le Xin Jie, still smiling, said, “I wasn’t wrong, Andy, right? Or was it because I saved you that he caught me?”
Qi Ji was confused. “Dr. Zhao, this…?”
Dr. Zhao hurriedly explained: “It’s fine, Qi Ji. Let me introduce—this is Le Xin Jie, my classmate and a specialist in psychiatry. He treated you last time when you were drugged and emotionally unstable. He’s here with me today for a medical evaluation.”
“So, Dr. Le?” Qi Ji asked, still remembering the scratches. “Then Dr. Zhao being saved was…?”
Dr. Zhao waved his hand: “That was the same incident. I accidentally provoked you, and your reflexive protection almost hurt me—Le Xin Jie stopped it in time.”
Qi Ji recalled. It had been when he had gripped Dr. Zhao’s throat while half-awake. Judging by Zhao’s physique, he couldn’t have freed himself, so Le Xin Jie must have intervened to prevent injury.
Qi Ji apologized again, but Dr. Zhao just shook his head, waving it off.
Since Qi Ji had lost his memory from the time he was drugged until he woke, he didn’t remember what treatment Le Xin Jie had administered. This time, however, Le Xin Jie didn’t seem to be here for him specifically.
The medical team conducted a full checkup. The results were quickly available: Qi Ji’s indicators were completely normal, and he could feel the lingering effects of the drugs fading.
Still, Dr. Zhao and Le Xin Jie huddled together in discussion for quite some time, along with the rest of the medical team.
After the checkup, Pei Yusheng took Qi Ji back to the study, and Qi Ji remained there. Even the results were brought to him by Dr. Zhao. He didn’t know what the doctors had been discussing for hours, but nearly four to five hours later, close to evening, they finally left.
“Why did Dr. Zhao and the others talk so long?” Qi Ji asked Pei Yusheng. “Is there anything new?”
Pei Yusheng, still reviewing files, didn’t seem concerned: “No, it’s routine. I’ve been away for two weeks, so it took a bit longer.”
Qi Ji didn’t press further.
It was Friday, and Qi Mingyu, who lived at school, would be coming home that evening. Qi Ji planned to check on his younger brother and have dinner at home.
He had intended to go alone, but upon hearing this, Pei Yusheng, still looking over files, stood, took a jacket, and insisted on accompanying him.
“It’s windy today, and the temperature drops at night. The villa is inaccessible by car, and walking to the subway might catch a cold.”
His tone was calm, yet non-negotiable. “I’ll take you there.”
Qi Ji didn’t argue.
On the way home, they stopped at a supermarket. The apartment had been empty, and there was little to eat.
Qi Ji felt guilty for taking up Pei Yusheng’s time. He had planned to let him stay in the car and handle work on the tablet, but Pei Yusheng followed him inside.
“Let’s go together,” Pei Yusheng said. “I’ll buy a few things too.”
“Eh?” Qi Ji was surprised. “Alright.”
Once inside, Qi Ji pointed out the escalator: “The second floor has imports. If you want anything, Mr. Pei, you can go up directly.”
“…Okay.” Pei Yusheng responded, a trace of helplessness in his expression.
Qi Ji asked why, and he replied: “Nothing. I’ll just walk with you. No rush.”
Qi Ji went to the fresh produce section to buy ingredients for dinner. He hadn’t frequented supermarkets much since the family incident, only coming during evening discounts. Even though his debt pressure had eased, his careful habits remained; he scrutinized prices repeatedly before deciding.
With Pei Yusheng accompanying him, Qi Ji tried to speed up, not wanting to waste time. Yet he still worried the CEO might be impatient.
Unexpectedly, Pei Yusheng was far more patient than anticipated. When choosing prepared food, he even helped pick out a larger braised pig trotter.
“This one looks bigger.”
Qi Ji compared it to his own selection—indeed, it was slightly larger.
“Then take that one.”
The counter staff enthusiastically said, “Fifteen for this one.”
For someone like Qi Ji, comparing the cost of each item was normal. For Pei Yusheng, he could have bought the whole supermarket without a second thought.
Before Qi Ji could ponder this, Pei Yusheng led him to the vegetables: “You said you needed potatoes?”
“Yes.” Qi Ji snapped back to focus.
“Bulk potatoes are here,” Pei Yusheng pointed, casually asking: “These ingredients are for your brother? You cook?”
Qi Ji hesitated, then nodded: “Yes, just the two of us.”
“My skills aren’t great,” he admitted.
Naturally, Pei Yusheng followed up: “Next time, can you cook for me?”
The request was modest, almost part of a caretaker’s duties.
Qi Ji hesitated longer this time, eventually saying: “Maybe… Aunt Lin cooks better.”
Pei Yusheng’s expression didn’t change; he lowered his eyes back to the potatoes.
After a while, he sighed: “But your brother gets to eat what you cook, and I don’t.”
The image of a sharply dressed, handsome CEO sighing over potatoes was oddly comical, as if tomorrow’s potato futures would crash. Qi Ji relented: “Ah… then I’ll cook for you when we get back.”
Pei Yusheng finally nodded, taking the selected potatoes.
In no time, he maneuvered through the supermarket efficiently, from selection to weighing and labeling.
When they reached the intersection near Qi Ji’s home, Pei Yusheng dropped him off, not driving to the building—his car didn’t quite match the modest neighborhood even at its lowest profile.
Qi Ji apologized: “My brother’s home, not convenient to have you upstairs. I won’t invite you in.”
Pei Yusheng, adept at retreating gracefully, smiled: “It’s fine. There’ll be a chance. Go home quickly; it’s cold.”
Qi Ji nodded, hearing him add: “Call me after dinner; I’ll come pick you up.”
“Okay, Mr. Pei. Goodbye.”
“See you later.”
Carrying his bag, Qi Ji entered the complex, glancing back at the intersection. The black Mercedes G still waited.
The complex, built ten years ago, was older, with voice-activated stair lights, but clean overall.
Inside, Qi Ji brought in the groceries and began washing vegetables. The wall clock showed 6:30.
He had just started when he heard the front door unlock. Qi Mingyu was home.
“Brother?” came his younger brother’s voice.
“Yeah? What’s up?” Qi Ji replied.
Qi Mingyu peeked into the kitchen, tossed his school jacket in the living room, rolled up his sleeves, and came over.
“I’ll do it.”
“No need,” Qi Ji said. “I’m already wet. You just got back—go rest.”
Qi Mingyu ignored him and snatched the tomato from Qi Ji’s hands.
“I don’t want to see you waste food.”
Qi Ji could only step aside, wiping his hands with a towel, careful not to crowd the small kitchen.
Watching his brother handle the vegetables with ease, Qi Ji remembered something:
“By the way, Mingyu,” he said, “I’ll be working this weekend. I won’t sleep at home these two days. Make sure the doors are locked when you stay home alone.”
He hadn’t told Mingyu about his part-time work with Pei Yusheng. Previously, he had used “overtime” as an excuse. Now that Mingyu lived at school and only came home on weekends, it was easier to cover.
And since Pei Yusheng had been away, Qi Ji had spent weekends at home without anyone noticing.
Originally, he had planned to take leave to stay with his brother, but Pei Yusheng had just returned from travel, sleep-deprived. Balancing things, Qi Ji decided to continue his duties for the weekend.
After all, he was earning his salary legitimately.
“Do you need any school fees paid?” Qi Ji asked. “I’ll give you the money.”
Qi Mingyu, chopping vegetables, stayed silent. After a long pause, he asked:
“You’re working overtime again?”
“Yes.”
Just then came a loud clang!
Qi Mingyu slammed the knife into the cutting board.
“What’s wrong?” Qi Ji asked, startled.
His younger brother’s face was dark, silent.
He turned, gripping Qi Ji’s arm through his clothes, pulling him out.
“Come here.”
“Mingyu?”
Qi Mingyu dragged him into the living room, pressing him onto the sofa.
Qi Ji, confused, watched as Mingyu opened his school bag with a swift motion and pulled out a rectangular paper package.
He set it upright on the table, producing a muffled thud. Carefully unwrapping it, he revealed stacks of something thick.
Qi Ji’s eyes widened.
Bundles of hundred-dollar bills.
“You…”
Mingyu placed the stacks on the table, leaning over, eyes serious.
“Brother. I can earn money. This is for you—ten thousand in total.”
“Please… don’t work part-time anymore, okay?”