Qi Ji didn’t know how he made it through that night.
In the end, he had calmed down and began to think through the problem from its root.
This shouldn’t have happened in the first place—it was his own transgression, the natural consequence of overstepping.
He still had a chance to fix it.
Returning to the starting point would suffice.
Some truths are simple, expressed in just a few words. But only someone truly in the situation would understand how difficult it is to put those words into action.
Qi Ji cleaned up all the ashes, replaced everything that might have absorbed smoke, and went alone to the guest bedroom on the first floor. He didn’t turn on any smart devices, not even a light, so Star remained asleep; he was entirely alone in the room.
He watched the thick night gradually fade to a pale gray.
Winter mornings came late. When his phone rang, he glanced at it and realized it was already seven a.m.
The sky outside remained a dull gray, the sun still unseen.
He opened the call. The screen displayed a number he knew all too well.
“Did you call me last night?”
A deep voice came from the other end.
“What’s the matter?”
The man’s voice was calm as ever, giving the illusion that nothing had changed.
Qi Ji was about to speak when the phone was suddenly interrupted by a hurried call: “Second Young Master…”
Pei Yusheng’s voice had paused for a moment, as if conversing with someone else, before he picked up the phone again.
“Hello?”
Qi Ji’s plans, pondered all night, were immediately thrown off.
Resigning was simple enough to say, but he still owed Pei a considerable amount. Quitting would require another way to repay it—but he didn’t have that kind of money right now.
After a pause, he said, “It’s nothing… I just wanted to ask if you’d be coming back.”
Sleep-deprived, his voice was inevitably hoarse.
“I was busy last night and couldn’t notify you in advance,” Pei Yusheng said. “I’ll be busy for some time. If I don’t come back, I won’t mention it. When I do, I’ll let you know ahead of time.”
Qi Ji listened, staring absentmindedly at his knees.
No matter how busy Pei had been before, he would always call at least once a day. Perhaps that habitual attention had inflated Qi Ji’s expectations, making him greedy.
After Pei spoke, someone else called “Second Young Master” in the background. Qi Ji, sensing the cue, didn’t monopolize his employer’s time and said quietly, “Okay, I understand. You go ahead.”
The call ended. Qi Ji took a shower and left for work.
Though he hadn’t slept, he was used to overnight shifts followed by a full day of work, so his actions weren’t hindered.
Still, having been rarely awake through the night, he felt dizzy and his heart raced, pounding like a drum in his chest.
That night, Pei Yusheng still didn’t return.
With his part-time job on hold, Qi Ji’s full attention shifted to his main work. He threw himself entirely into Starsea’s projects, and fortunately, it brought him rewards.
Work was the most important thing, he reminded himself, immersing himself completely in design.
The architectural design for Starsea’s first flagship store was completed and about to break ground in S City. The concept drawings, once released, received universal praise. The public was impressed, recognizing the group’s high design standards and anticipating the flagship store with excitement.
Under the official account posting the concept, many comments eagerly asked whether new snacks would be launched there—they couldn’t wait to experience it. Parts of the store highly anticipated by consumers had already begun construction.
A large volume of fresh, innovative design work was ongoing. Though the team shared the workload, as the main source of inspiration for Starsea Snacks, Qi Ji contributed significantly.
It was just as he had hoped.
For the following few days, his schedule was fully packed with work, only taking a break on the night He Xiu left S City.
So when he received Pei Yusheng’s call, he was a little dazed.
Pei said he would return to Rose Villa that night.
For days, the man hadn’t come home, and Qi Ji never got a chance to discuss his resignation face-to-face. He had seen Pei at the office, but mostly from a distance, barely enough to nod in greeting.
That distant observation, however, allowed him to notice Pei traveling with his deputy, Wen Chuming, more than once.
He Xiu had left, but Wen Chuming remained. Qi Ji didn’t know why.
He even occasionally spotted Wen near Yuntu.
On the way home, Qi Ji wondered if he’d see two pairs of shoes at the entrance.
After a late return from work, it was about bedtime. At the door, he checked—no one else. Only Pei Yusheng had returned.
Qi Ji removed his coat; the cold wind had numbed him, but he finally felt a bit of warmth.
His own foolish imaginings and this long-awaited comfort coincided.
Just as he set down his bag, Pei Yusheng descended the stairs.
After several days, the man’s features were still captivating, though exhaustion was evident.
He looked unwell, completely drained.
Qi Ji’s resignation words halted on his lips.
He couldn’t help thinking—had Pei really not been sleeping these days?
Before he could ask, Pei spoke first: “Sleep in the guest room tonight.”
Qi Ji froze mid-movement, looking up.
The man’s expression remained calm, voice as cool as always: “Your salary will be paid as usual. No need to come to the master bedroom.”
Qi Ji stared for a long while before noticing the pain and tremor in his fingertips.
His nails had been split deep into the flesh, raw and tender, bleeding into his palms.
Yet these recent days had taught him resilience.
He composed himself, voice steady: “Alright, you rest early.”
Pei turned and went upstairs, leaving Qi Ji alone in the living room.
Picking up his bag again, he returned to the guest bedroom and sat at the desk.
Though the central air was on, he felt colder than when he had first entered.
The room was empty, silent. Qi Ji spread his hands over his face.
The metallic smell of fresh blood lingered.
Despite expecting it, seeing Pei first thing in the morning had still made him think, “Has Pei not been sleeping well?”
How laughable.
The quiet around him only encouraged reflection.
At the staff meeting, Pei had told him that on business trips, hearing his voice on the phone helped him sleep better.
But in recent days, Pei hadn’t called once.
Qi Ji finally understood what it meant to be self-deluded.
He remembered the long cat plush left forgotten on the bed by its owner. Once he began caring for Pei, the man never held it again.
Now, it was Qi Ji himself who had become that plush.
The long night was cold and lonely; sleep was restless. Early the next day, Pei left. Qi Ji didn’t see him, nor could he bring up resignation.
Yet, despite repeated interruptions, his resolve to quit grew stronger.
The problem was glaring, beyond his ability to solve, draining him constantly.
Completely avoiding it and never returning seemed the only way out.
Resolved to raise the matter clearly next time, Qi Ji headed to Yuntu.
Thankfully, work offered some solace.
After a full day of online collaboration with the headquarters team, near the end of the day, Qi Ji checked the packaging of the newly delivered snack designs in the tea room.
Every new snack design from Wonder came as a sample for review in the tea room.
Dinner time had passed; few people were around. Today, even more unusually, he was entirely alone after a while.
Unaware of anything unusual, he continued recording comparisons.
Soon, he heard approaching footsteps.
Looking up, he saw a young man in a suit with gold-rimmed glasses.
It was Pei Yusheng’s executive assistant, Zhou Li.
A rare visitor.
When Pei had been appointed CEO, his assistant had come along. Chen Zixuan often praised his competence and mentioned his taciturn, cold demeanor. Qi Ji’s impression was mostly through Chen.
As a design employee, Qi Ji seldom interacted with the assistant. Even after his part-time work alongside Pei, he had rarely seen him, only catching glimpses during Pei’s calls.
So he paid little mind this time.
But he hadn’t expected this icy young professional to look directly at him.
Qi Ji froze for a moment, then, following etiquette, said, “Good evening, Assistant Zhou.”
Zhou Li didn’t return the greeting. Instead, he asked, “You’re Qi Ji?”
His voice was as cold and impassive as the man himself, keeping everyone at a distance.
Qi Ji, puzzled, nodded. “Does the assistant need something from me?”
Zhou Li stepped closer, stopping about three paces away.
He was half a head taller than Qi Ji, and when he looked down at him, there was an unmistakable sense of superiority.
“So, you’re the Second Young Master’s caretaker?”
Qi Ji blinked, instinctively scanning the room.
Only now did he notice that the tea room was empty except for the two of them.
Had Pei Yusheng sent the assistant here? Why suddenly bring up this matter at the office?
Qi Ji hesitated but eventually replied under Zhou Li’s almost piercing gaze, “Yes, that’s me.”
He cautiously asked, “Is there something you’d like me to do?”
“Do I dare to give orders?”
Zhou Li pushed up his glasses; the gold rims caught a sharp, icy glint.
“I’m only here on someone else’s behalf, to see what kind of person this so-called ‘great caretaker’ really is.”
“Great?” Qi Ji frowned.
He hadn’t provoked this man in any way—why was he being so snide and condescending?
“What do you mean by that?” Qi Ji asked.
“I heard you can put the Second Young Master to sleep, is that right?” Zhou Li’s question was far from sincere. Before Qi Ji could answer, he continued, “If that’s true, it’s no wonder the Second Young Master repeatedly went out of his way for you, even letting his most capable subordinates bear the consequences.”
Qi Ji’s confusion deepened. “…Are you talking about me?”
“Who else?” Zhou Li countered. “Do you think Lina’s team would let an intern participate casually?”
Qi Ji paused.
…Lina?
“Have you not realized Lina specifically targets you? She particularly dislikes you,” Zhou Li said elegantly, his words cutting like a scalpel. “Who would like someone forcibly thrown into a team as an incompetent connection?”
Seeing Qi Ji’s stunned expression, he sneered softly. “As expected, your noble connections forget things. You probably don’t remember Uncle Xu either.”
Qi Ji’s temples throbbed, ears ringing, but he managed to catch the words.
“Uncle Xu…?”
“He was the Second Young Master’s driver and personal bodyguard,” Zhou Li said with a mocking glance. “After years of service, because he failed to report your situation promptly, the Second Young Master dismissed him and sent him back home.”
Qi Ji couldn’t recall at all. When had that happened…?
All he remembered was the night he was suddenly woken by Pei Yusheng entering his room—he hadn’t seen Uncle Xu since.
As he tried to process, Zhou Li casually dropped one last bomb: “And your packaging designs—Starsea is such a massive group. How could a flagship product use an intern’s plan?”
Qi Ji’s fingers trembled, his heart racing to an almost unbearable pace.
How could this be…? His work, his achievements… were they really for this reason?
Zhou Li’s words shattered Qi Ji’s hope entirely: “You only occupied so many of the Second Young Master’s resources because you happened to be able to put him to sleep.”
“Still not getting it?” Zhou Li finally allowed a faint smile, chilling in its indifference. “Seems the caretaker has a big ego. Perhaps you truly believed your abilities deserved these accomplishments.”
“Courage and confidence are part of ability,” Qi Ji said, deliberately bowing slightly. “Then I wish you a bright future, Assistant Zhou.”
With that, Zhou Li turned and left.
Qi Ji remained frozen in place.
The carefully organized materials in front of him transformed into monstrous beasts, snapping and lunging, and he swayed, clutching the table just to keep himself upright.
He had heard harsher words before, but never with implications that undermined the meaning of all his work.
Design had sustained him through countless sleepless nights. He had celebrated seeing his plans approved, only to realize that his efforts had nothing to do with the outcome—it was all a gift.
He pressed a hand to his forehead, feeling a splitting headache.
He remembered every line he drew, every plan revised, every night of endless discussions and debates with colleagues…
And none of it mattered? He had only been rewarded for being able to put Pei Yusheng to sleep?
Then the work he had long considered his anchor, his way of realizing himself—what did it even mean now?
Qi Ji didn’t know how he left the office that day.
For the first time, he doubted himself.
He reviewed the design drafts tirelessly, trying to perfect them. Yet with every stroke, a voice nagged in his mind:
Are you really doing well?
Isn’t it just that everyone was forced to praise you?
Zhou Li’s words had invalidated every effort he had made.
Late into the night, rain fell outside, wind howled, and the cold pierced to the bone.
Yet inside, it felt even colder.
Another sleepless night. On the subway the next morning, Qi Ji felt dizzy and unsteady. Arriving at the company, he remained distracted until starting work—and then realized he’d forgotten the USB drive containing crucial files that needed sending today.
Helpless, he requested leave from Director Wu and returned to the villa.
The subway on the return trip was far emptier than the morning rush; the streets near Hunan Road were nearly deserted. Qi Ji hurried back to the villa, still dizzy, paying no attention to the car parked beside it.
It wasn’t until he opened the door and saw the shoes at the entrance that he realized Pei Yusheng had returned after days away.
Moreover, there were two pairs of shoes.
After Zhou Li’s verbal blow, seeing those two pairs of shoes left Qi Ji even colder than expected. He began planning how to avoid meeting them, intending to grab the USB and leave immediately.
Yet he hadn’t anticipated that, as soon as he looked up, he saw Pei Yusheng.
And the man was half-naked, revealing a toned, lean body.
Days apart, his physique remained flawless, skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat.
Yet this pleasing sight struck Qi Ji like a blow.
Hearing movement at the door, Pei turned, seeing Qi Ji. For the first time, a flash of surprise crossed his usually calm expression.
His immediate reaction was to reach for the disheveled jacket on the sofa, seemingly to cover himself.