Qi Ji stood frozen for a long moment, then murmured, “I… I didn’t know any of this…”
He truly had no idea.
Noticing Qi Ji’s bewilderment, Xue Zhongqi didn’t press further. He ruffled the boy’s hair and thoughtfully shifted the conversation toward Qi Mingyu.
Although Qi Ji continued chatting with others, his mind was elsewhere. Midov’s words had struck like thunder, fully awakening him.
Soon, Madame Yu approached. After exchanging a few words, Qi Ji excused himself.
Before leaving, she invited him to her home that evening, saying that Xiao Mi and the others missed him.
Qi Ji promised he would come if he had the time. Only when he reached a quiet corner did he allow himself to fully contemplate what had just happened.
Wonder…
Qi Ji felt momentarily dazed.
So Pei Yusheng’s Wonder… meant “miracle”?
And that dessert factory…
Instinctively, Qi Ji felt it had nothing to do with him—but every detail from his memories rushed back in an instant, making it impossible to stop thinking.
The exceptional treatment he received from the factory manager when he first visited, the name change after someone else took over, the carefully curated desserts in the company’s tea lounge that matched his tastes perfectly…
Add to that what Madame Yu had said about Midov, and Qi Ji could no longer deny it.
The dessert factory had indeed been a gift Pei Yusheng prepared for him.
And he had never known.
Qi Ji grew increasingly bewildered. He had always felt anxious even when Pei Yusheng gave him a bouquet of strawberry flowers—how could he possibly accept an entire dessert factory calmly?
What unsettled him even more was the trust fund.
A dessert factory alone was already priceless; add to that a fund that even Midov described as “large,” and though Qi Ji didn’t know the exact figure, he understood it would easily be hundreds of times more than eleven million.
Qi Ji didn’t know what to do.
In nineteen years, he had only learned how to protect himself against malice and repay enormous debts. He had never learned how to accept a large gift gracefully, or how to properly receive sincere love.
His mind in chaos, Qi Ji couldn’t help but step out of the corner where Pei Yusheng was out of sight, searching for that familiar figure.
He soon spotted him—the tall, elegant silhouette.
Pei Yusheng was still talking with Eric, though their discussion now seemed to be concluding. Eric’s team had started negotiating with the Xinghai manager, and Pei Yusheng shook hands with Eric again, signaling that the cooperation was going well.
Afterward, Eric’s team continued discussions with Xinghai, while Eric moved on to other professors. Pei Yusheng stepped aside, tugging lightly at his tie.
Qi Ji’s eyesight was excellent; even from a distance, he could clearly see the cold sweat on Pei Yusheng’s neck.
He knew he shouldn’t go over. If he were rational, he would maintain a strict boundary, not step past it, and focus solely on his duties as a caretaker.
But he couldn’t.
Seeing Pei Yusheng’s pale, bloodless face, Qi Ji’s legs moved on their own. He hurried forward, carefully avoiding the wound, and supported him.
“Mr. Pei,” he asked softly, “are you okay?”
Pei Yusheng furrowed his brow, cold sweat glistening on his forehead, yet he still suppressed his discomfort, speaking quietly, “I’m fine.”
“It’s just that the bandage’s been on too long… the wound’s a bit uncomfortable.” He exhaled lightly, tilting his head toward the stairs. “It’s not convenient here; let’s go to the stairwell.”
Seeing how weak he looked, and knowing he wouldn’t want his vulnerability exposed, Qi Ji guided him to the stairs.
The restaurant was on the top floor with direct elevators, but the emergency stairwell was empty.
Even over this short distance, cold sweat formed on Pei Yusheng’s neck, and his breathing grew heavier.
Once steady, Qi Ji pulled out a wet wipe from his pocket and handed it to him.
“Mr. Pei,” he whispered, “wipe it off?”
Pei Yusheng lifted his eyelids; his pale gray eyes appeared hazy, lacking their usual sharpness, showing obvious fatigue.
Qi Ji’s heart clenched.
Even so, Pei Yusheng did not expose his fragility. He inhaled slowly, voice steady: “Thank you.”
As he reached for the wipe, the motion tugged at his wound. He winced slightly, moving slower than expected.
Qi Ji couldn’t resist. “Let me do it.”
The words slipped out before he could second-guess himself. “It’s inconvenient for you, Mr. Pei—I’ll help.”
Pei Yusheng only replied calmly, “Thank you,” which eased Qi Ji slightly.
The wipe was cool, yet the skin beneath burned. They were a palm’s distance apart; Qi Ji carefully wiped the sweat from his jaw and neck, feeling the heat radiate through the damp paper.
The perfect jawline, smooth neck, prominent Adam’s apple, and flowing collarbones… Qi Ji intended to focus, yet his movements grew slower, hesitant.
The familiar, intense warmth of Pei Yusheng’s body was overwhelming, almost consuming him entirely. Qi Ji’s heart raced, eyelashes damp with sweat.
The beautiful line of the collarbone was hidden by the shirt, and just as Qi Ji debated stopping, his waist was suddenly gripped.
He could have pulled away, but the familiar aura held him. The next second, he was lifted into Pei Yusheng’s arms.
Qi Ji froze, still holding the wipe, unsure where to place his hands.
Sensing his hesitation, Pei Yusheng rested his chin lightly atop Qi Ji’s head. His breath was scorching, voice hoarse.
“Let me hold you for a bit.”
Alongside the familiar scent, Qi Ji smelled the strong tang of medicine from Pei Yusheng’s back.
He didn’t move.
The close embrace was not unpleasant, but it filled him with worry. Qi Ji quietly stayed in Pei Yusheng’s arms, unable to ignore the wound.
He was about to speak when he heard Pei Yusheng’s steady breathing.
Qi Ji blinked.
Was he… asleep?
Held in his arms, Qi Ji couldn’t see his face, but the rhythmic heartbeat and gentle breath above were unmistakably familiar.
In just a short while, in the unheated stairwell, Pei Yusheng—recently tormented by the wound—had truly fallen asleep.
Qi Ji’s chest tightened, then a bitter-sweet ache spread through him.
…So tired?
How long had it been since he last rested?
By his calculation, Qi Ji had missed two nights of care. Before that, since Pei Yusheng’s confession, they had never shared sleep even while in the same room.
Qi Ji was stunned.
Everyone had told him Pei Yusheng suffered from insomnia. Qi Ji had witnessed him work tirelessly day and night. Yet Pei Yusheng had fallen asleep in front of him—not just once, but multiple times—with only a hug or a phone call to anchor him.
Qi Ji felt a profound sense of indebtedness. Poor, empty-handed, he had never stood equal to Pei Yusheng… until now did he realize how important he was to him.
In the stairwell, Qi Ji held him quietly.
Outside, the winter wind blew harshly, yet Qi Ji didn’t feel cold in Pei Yusheng’s arms.
No subordinates came searching, so he let him rest.
The silence was broken by Qi Ji’s phone.
He reached to silence it, but still in Pei Yusheng’s embrace, his movements were clumsy. The ringtone had barely sounded when Pei Yusheng stirred.
The weight on his head shifted, and the hoarse voice murmured, “Sorry, I fell asleep.”
A warm hand touched the back of his head—Pei Yusheng’s palm.
“Did I press on you?”
Qi Ji had no reaction at first, but the warmth and close voice immediately froze him; his hand paused mid-motion on the phone.
Pei Yusheng noticed, loosening slightly, though one hand still encircled Qi Ji’s waist.
“Is it a call?”
Qi Ji nodded, fumbling for his phone. The screen showed Qi Mingyu.
“Hello, Mingyu?” Qi Ji asked. “What’s up?”
Mingyu didn’t reply immediately, instead asking, “Why did it take you so long to answer?”
Qi Ji couldn’t tell the truth, so he improvised: “I didn’t hear it ring.”
“…Really?” Mingyu paused.
Quick to change the subject, Qi Ji asked, “Is it important?”
“I didn’t see you in the hall. Where did you go?” Mingyu finally said.
Qi Ji glanced at Pei Yusheng before answering: “I’m by the restroom. Heading back now. What’s up?”
“There you go. Almost done here—then off to the Yi Fu building for the seminar. I’ll be translating for Eric. Will you come with me?”
Qi Ji noticed Pei Yusheng rubbing his temple, exhaustion lingering, the movement making his wound ache anew.
He tightened his grip on the phone.
After hesitation, Qi Ji said, “Mingyu… maybe I won’t come this afternoon.”
“The seminar has fewer people and more discussion. I don’t need you there; you should stay with Professor Eric,” he added. “Seeing you doing so well reassures me.”
Silence followed.
Qi Ji said, “The company isn’t done yet. Go ahead and work hard too.”
Finally, Mingyu spoke, voice slightly frustrated: “…When will you be back?”
“And what do you want for dinner? I can get groceries.”
Qi Ji hesitated. “Depends. I’ll call if I’m back.”
He didn’t notice Pei Yusheng had lowered his hand, nor the longer silence on the line. He continued: “Besides, you’re dining with Eric’s team tonight. Don’t waste such a rare opportunity.”
After a long pause, Mingyu said, “…Understood.”
“Take care of yourself,” Qi Ji said.
“Mm, okay.”
After hanging up, he apologized to the patient man in his arms: “Sorry, Mr. Pei, I held you up.”
“It’s fine. No need,” Pei Yusheng replied, his complexion restored slightly, lips showing faint color.
Qi Ji guessed it was thanks to the short nap.
Before Qi Ji could speak again, Pei Yusheng added, “Time to change the dressing. Can you come with me?”
Heart aching, Qi Ji naturally agreed.
After brief farewells at the banquet, they left in Pei Yusheng’s car.
Recalling how familiar Pei Yusheng had been with Midov, Qi Ji asked, “Mr. Pei, are you close with that Midov gentleman?”
Leaning back on the customized seat to relieve his back, Pei Yusheng looked up: “Why do you ask?”
“I saw you seemed very familiar with him. And… his eyes are the same pale gray as yours.”
Pei Yusheng said, “Because he’s a distant relative.”
Although Qi Ji had guessed, he was still surprised. “Your father… is Russian?”
The Xu family’s ancestors were from S City and later developed in Hong Kong, so foreign blood seemed unlikely.
Pei Yusheng shook his head. “No, it was my great-grandfather. He was Russian.”
Qi Ji blinked. “Russian?”
“A minority, but the nationality has always been domestic,” Pei Yusheng explained, rubbing the boy’s soft hair. “He branched off from the Midov family, which is why we’re distant relatives.”
Qi Ji was flustered by the touch, but mindful of the wound, he didn’t resist.
“So that’s why your uncle…” No issues with career advancement despite foreign blood?
“Yes. Since my grandfather married Han, the family’s nationality changed accordingly. It didn’t affect political review,” Pei Yusheng said.
Qi Ji asked, “Marrying Han didn’t affect eye color?”
He thought dark irises were dominant.
Smiling at the boy’s curious expression, Pei Yusheng said lightly, “It depends on the person. I’m an exception.”
Qi Ji was about to comment, but the man’s smile drew him in, leaving him momentarily speechless.
Sensing the silence, Pei Yusheng asked, “What is it?”
Qi Ji’s ears flushed. “Nothing… I just think… your eyes are beautiful.”
“Really?”
Looking down to avoid his gaze, Qi Ji didn’t immediately notice Pei Yusheng’s movement.
By the time he did, Pei Yusheng had leaned close, their noses nearly touching.
Those deep, bottomless pale-gray eyes were fixed solely on him.
His voice was low, magnetic, irresistibly alluring.
Like a siren’s song, dangerous yet impossible to resist.
“I think you’re the most beautiful.”