The darkness around him stretched endlessly, yet it wasn’t cold. Qi Ji only remembered that he had slept for a very long time in that quiet void. At some point, he slowly regained a bit of consciousness, finally recovering some awareness.
What time was it now?
His mind was still foggy, and he had no idea how long he had been asleep. Groggily, he began to worry whether he had missed any news from Mr. Pei, or if he would be late for work…
Thinking like this, Qi Ji tried to force himself awake. But his body felt completely unresponsive, heavy and sluggish, and even opening his eyes seemed impossible.
“Ugh…”
Pain…
He couldn’t tell exactly where it hurt, only that his whole body felt uncomfortable. Deep inside, there was an ache and a dull swelling, a heavy, numbing pressure.
After struggling for a long while, he still couldn’t open his eyes.
But his senses weren’t completely dulled. Soon, Qi Ji noticed a warm, moist touch on his cheek.
Someone seemed to be gently wiping his face with a hot towel.
A soft voice spoke, but he was too groggy to catch the words. He wanted to ask, but his throat was dry and sore, as if overused—painful and parched. Not even a sound could escape easily.
Only when a bit of sweet liquid touched his lips did the sensation improve slightly. His dry lips moistened, and the pain in his throat gradually eased.
Exhausted, Qi Ji relaxed again, too tired to fight consciousness, and fell back asleep.
After an unknown span of time, he vaguely felt movement. His condition was better than before, but even before he could fully open his eyes, just moving his fingers brought a familiar voice to him.
“It’s okay. It’s still early.”
It was Pei Yusheng.
“Sleep a little longer.”
Groggily, Qi Ji recalled that Pei Yusheng was safe. He finally relaxed.
His nerves had been taut these days. Though work wasn’t demanding and his body wasn’t overworked, the constant worry over Mr. Pei had prevented him from resting properly.
Now, his mind finally loosened, and lulled by the steady heartbeat nearby, Qi Ji drifted back into sleep.
He slept in fits and starts for a long time, letting the accumulated fatigue fully subside. Only then did he awaken completely.
Opening his eyes, the room was dimly lit, the light a warm yellow glow. It wasn’t natural sunlight, but the soft light from a night lamp. Qi Ji realized he had slept until nightfall.
He felt a bit dazed from sleeping so long, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. After resting, the aches in his body had significantly eased.
But as he looked around, he found the surroundings unfamiliar.
Although it was equally comfortable and spacious, and resembled a bedroom in its layout, it wasn’t Pei Yusheng’s room, nor a room in the Rose Villa.
Qi Ji couldn’t remember ever coming here before. He didn’t see Mr. Pei.
He was completely alone.
Just as he was wondering about this, he heard movement outside the door. Footsteps approached, and voices were speaking.
“It’s alright…”
Qi Ji strained to listen. The voice sounded familiar, like Dr. Zhao.
“Xiao Qi’s test results are all within the normal range. That medication shouldn’t have left any major side effects.”
As they drew closer, the voices became clearer.
“Just watch out for any unusual symptoms. Otherwise, normal activities are fine.”
Qi Ji confirmed that it was indeed Zhao Mingzhen outside.
The footsteps reached the doorway. Thinking Qi Ji was still asleep, Dr. Zhao softened his voice and asked,
“Do you want me to bring some more blood-activating, bruise-resolving medicine?”
The door opened, and Zhao Mingzhen entered, seeing Qi Ji awake.
“Xiao Qi?” He paused, then smiled. “You’re awake?”
Dr. Zhao wore casual clothes instead of his usual white coat. Behind him was Pei Yusheng. Seeing Qi Ji greet Dr. Zhao, Pei Yusheng asked,
“Is anything uncomfortable?”
Qi Ji hesitated briefly, then shook his head.
After such a long sleep, he felt much better, and he remembered why he had been sore.
“It’s fine,” Dr. Zhao said. “Then I’ll head back. Contact me anytime if you need anything.”
Pei Yusheng replied, “Alright.”
Qi Ji said, “Goodbye, Dr. Zhao.”
Dr. Zhao waved, and just before leaving, he glanced at the two of them, smiling, “Congratulations.”
Qi Ji blushed slightly but softly replied,
“Thank you.”
With Dr. Zhao gone and the door closed, only the two of them remained, and the room grew quiet.
Qi Ji felt awkward and didn’t dare look at the man by the bed.
Pei Yusheng, after a moment of silence, said,
“I didn’t tell him on purpose.”
Qi Ji froze for a second, then quickly said, “I—I know.”
Though he didn’t ask why Dr. Zhao had come, Qi Ji had already guessed the reason: “no major side effects remaining” referred to the incident from a few months ago.
Although the medication’s effect had been lifted over time, the Bsw series had another feature: it left a vivid memory of the first experience and made it extremely likely that the user could never accept a second partner.
Last night, Pei Yusheng’s initial reluctance was because of this.
It wasn’t that he doubted their relationship; he simply didn’t want the effect to become a constraint or burden for Qi Ji.
But Qi Ji had shown through his actions that he didn’t feel constrained at all.
Even though he had been firm and brave last night, recalling it now still made his ears burn.
It had indeed been… a bit intense.
Yet Qi Ji could also feel Pei Yusheng’s restraint. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have recovered so quickly.
The soreness in his body had actually been from overexertion, not injury. Thus, he didn’t mind Dr. Zhao’s presence. Qi Ji said,
“It’s okay. Mr. Pei doesn’t need to explain…”
Pei Yusheng lowered himself to sit beside Qi Ji, placing a pillow behind his waist.
He touched the side of the boy’s face, “I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
Qi Ji tilted his head, nudged his hand against Pei Yusheng’s palm, and smiled sweetly, “I’m fine.”
“That’s good.”
Pei Yusheng gently squeezed his face, “So… you’re still calling me Mr. Pei?”
Qi Ji was slightly taken aback, realizing the correction.
“Then… how should I…?”
Recalling how Pei Yusheng called him, Qi Ji tentatively tried, “Pei Pei?”
Pei Yusheng: “…”
“Hmm… peh-peh works too.”
Qi Ji realized it sounded odd and flushed slightly, “N-no, not…”
Pei Yusheng squeezed his face again, “Just drop the first character ‘Pei.’”
Qi Ji realized: that left “Sheng.”
He didn’t know why, but this subtle form of address, more reserved than “darling” or “baby,” made him feel even more shy.
After a pause, he finally controlled his nerves and whispered,
“…Sheng.”
Pei Yusheng leaned in, kissed him, and replied, “Mm.”
He wrapped Qi Ji’s waist, holding him close.
“My little one is so obedient.”
Qi Ji’s whole face burned red, yet he obediently nestled into the man’s arms.
Perhaps due to the lingering effect of the medication, Qi Ji, who usually avoided close contact, now enjoyed resting in Pei Yusheng’s warmth. It was slightly higher than his own, cozy and reassuring.
After the heat on his face eased slightly, Qi Ji remembered to ask,
“Where is this?”
The man rested his chin on Qi Ji’s hair, saying,
“It’s the sanatorium I stayed at before.”
The place offered medical exams and didn’t smell strongly of disinfectant.
Qi Ji blinked, surprised, “Really? But I remember last time it wasn’t like this…”
This bedroom was much larger than Pei Yusheng’s previous one, resembling a villa suite rather than a hospital room.
“It’s a different type of room,” Pei Yusheng explained. “This suite is spacious and has a living area.”
Qi Ji asked, “Then why did we stay in the single room last time?”
A smaller, more confined room that even storing personal items was difficult.
He first met Aunt Xu there… while in Pei Yusheng’s arms.
Recalling Dr. Zhao’s words: “A smaller space provides a greater sense of security?”
“Yes,” Pei Yusheng said decisively. “At that time, I needed someone in the same room. A suite wasn’t necessary.”
Qi Ji still sensed something slightly off… Had he shared a room?
Before he could ponder further, Pei Yusheng diverted his attention:
“There’s also a glass-walled hot spring room. Want to see it? It’s warm and you can watch the stars.”
“And today’s weather is nice. It’s in the suburbs, so there’s little light pollution. The stars are beautiful.”
Unable to resist the lure of the night sky, Qi Ji nodded, “Okay.”
After sleeping all day, he moved stiffly, but long rest had eased much of his post-fatigue soreness. He walked upstairs on his own.
The hot spring room was on the top floor, and the view exceeded Qi Ji’s expectations. The fully transparent ceiling made it feel outdoors. Without light pollution, the night sky was clear, and the stars seemed within reach.
The floor had multiple hot spring pools, and the glass ceiling had anti-fog features, so even with steam rising, visibility remained unobstructed.
Since Qi Ji’s condition didn’t allow for entering the water, Pei Yusheng led him to the shallowest pool to soak his feet.
The boy sat on the soft lounge chair, wrapped tightly, exposing only his unusually slender, pale feet. The snug covering was somehow more tantalizing than leaving him fully exposed, especially the striking lines of his ankles, which made it impossible not to glance.
Pei Yusheng, carefully rolling up Qi Ji’s pant legs, kept his gaze steady but paused slightly when his hand met the boy’s skin.
Only when the warmth of Qi Ji’s body made the skin taut did he withdraw his hand, settling onto another chair beside him.
Side by side, the warm, clear spring water caressed their skin, washing away fatigue. Looking up, the vast night sky stretched endlessly, filled with sparkling stars.
The night was so peaceful.
Being in such a place cleared the mind. Questions that had once felt too delicate to touch now seemed gentle and manageable.
Qi Ji finally asked the question lingering in his mind: “Why is your insomnia so severe?”
It wasn’t PTSD, nor a fatal familial insomnia—those dangerous possibilities had fortunately been ruled out. Still, he wanted to understand the real cause. He also wanted to take care of him.
Pei Yusheng didn’t hide anything: “It’s psychological.”
Beyond professional treatment, he had some self-awareness as well.
“My insomnia is partly hereditary, and partly due to mental stress.”
He offered two illustrative examples: “Over two years ago, I lost control for the first time due to prolonged insomnia—that was when I officially retired. I had discussed leaving the military after three years with my father, but when the time came, he refused to let me go and tried every way to stop me.”
The staged death of Wen Chuming had been part of that.
“That insomnia was caused by the pressure he imposed on me.”
“And recently, I almost lost control a second time, also due to emotional stress,” Pei Yusheng continued. At that time, he had been dealing with the Jiang family, working tirelessly day and night without rest. Initially, he was sent to confront the Jiang family due to family arrangements. Pei Xiaolin opposed letting Pei Yusheng return to S City, wanting him back in the military. While the two were at an impasse, Pei Yusheng found his opportunity.
The Pei family needed to deal with the Jiang family, and Jiang Duo, the eldest, was a key point of entry. The person to confront him had to be capable but discreet, so as not to draw attention. Pei Yusheng was clearly the most suitable candidate.
This mission also gave him a chance to leave Xiaolin behind and settle in S City. Success against the Jiang family would become bargaining power in future negotiations with Xiaolin.
So, he never relaxed.
Yet the Jiang family’s pressure was limited. Pei Yusheng’s near breakdown was more about his anger and fear at seeing Qi Ji hurt.
That was why he personally ensured Jiang Duo suffered a hundredfold for his actions.
But before Qi Ji, Pei Yusheng didn’t go into that part of the story.
Still, Qi Ji recalled those events and sighed: “I was too careless back then.”
Pei Yusheng frowned slightly: “It’s not your fault. Don’t think that way.”
“You did your best, Qi Qi. Not only did you give your all, but even if someone else had been in your place, no one could have done better.”
He didn’t believe Qi Ji bore any blame. The real culprits were Jiang Duo, the debt company, and those who overstepped the law—not the victim who had endured so much.
Why should a victim question themselves in the face of absolute wrongdoing?
Qi Ji hesitated, “I…”
Pei Yusheng squeezed his slightly cold fingers: “And don’t feel disheartened because you gave your all but couldn’t resist. Qi Qi, even without me, you could have escaped. Remember Zhang Wu?”
Qi Ji recalled meeting Zhang Wu at Qingpu Lake Park.
“I didn’t expect Wu-ge to help me so much… I’m really grateful,” he said.
“Gratitude is deserved,” Pei Yusheng replied. “But it’s not surprising. Qi Qi, you’re worth it. People want to help you—they like you. Always have. That’s what you deserve.”
Qi Ji gazed at the stars above, his nose tingling. The twinkling lights blurred slightly in the water’s reflection.
He had endured so much malice that, to protect himself, he wrapped himself in thick layers of cold detachment and feigned obedience, isolating himself completely.
Now, he was beginning to see the kindness of so many people.
Quietly, he said, “I didn’t think anyone would like me…”
Pei Yusheng held the boy’s chilled fingers in his palm, continuing gently: “Because back then, you didn’t like yourself. You didn’t like me, and you didn’t like yourself. Qi Qi, that was a double negation.”
Qi Ji could not argue. He knew Pei was right.
“And now?” Pei Yusheng asked, lowering his gaze.
Qi Ji hesitated, softly admitting, “Now… I like you…”
But he couldn’t bring himself to say it confidently.
“It’s okay, no rush,” Pei Yusheng said patiently. “See? Even double negation couldn’t stop our feelings.”
Under the vast night sky, they made a quiet promise.
“We’ll learn to like each other slowly.”
Double negation turned into affirmation. Despite past hardships, the ending was still the best.
Different paths, same destination.
Qi Ji stayed at the sanatorium for two days, gazing at the stars for two nights, before Pei Yusheng brought him home.
Returning home, Qi Ji felt the house was missing something. Though most of the arrangement was unchanged, something felt off.
When he noticed the long cat that had often stayed on Pei Yusheng’s bed—and later became Qi Ji’s nap pillow—was nowhere to be found, he finally realized what was different.
Furniture and daily items hadn’t disappeared, but the things the two of them used most were gone.
Before he could ask, Pei Yusheng prompted L: “Pack up the essentials; we’re heading out soon.”
Qi Ji, confused, asked, “Where to?”
Pei Yusheng smiled: “To our new home.”
“Our new home.”
The words felt profoundly happy, whether heard or spoken.
Rose Villa belonged to the Pei family—Qi Ji had already noticed that from the Pei character on the living room screen—but he hadn’t realized Pei Yusheng had prepared another home in S City.
After all, Rose Villa was too large for just the two of them.
Qi Ji didn’t fully understand Pei Yusheng’s idea of “waste.” But when they arrived at the destination, having lived in a standalone villa for so long, he was stunned.
This place… was even bigger than Rose Villa.
And the first thing that caught his eye wasn’t the villa itself, but the massive glasshouse in front of it.
Through the polished glass, Qi Ji could see inside clearly.
Strawberries.
A vast, fully ripe strawberry field stretched before him.