Chapter 303 – My Dear CEO Wife – He’s a Cute Boy (03)
Wen Changhe stayed in the hospital ward for an entire day and night.
When he woke up the next morning on the other bed, the boy was nowhere to be seen.
The curtains had somehow been drawn open, and warm sunlight streamed through the window.
Wen Changhe’s heart skipped a beat. He rushed to the window and quickly pulled the curtains shut, calling softly into the empty room: “Tang Tang… Tang Tang, are you here?”
He called several times, but there was no answer — only the silent boy lying motionless on the hospital bed. The one who had smiled and cried with him yesterday had vanished, as if everything from the day before had been nothing more than a dream.
Wen Changhe moved to the bedside and gently held the boy’s hand.
“Tang Tang, please come out… I want to see you.”
But Bai Tang hadn’t left. The visibility spray had simply worn off. Using it too often in a short time would cause severe damage to his spirit, and Qiu’er and Xiao A had forbidden him from doing that.
Wen Changhe couldn’t see him — but Bai Tang was still right there in the room.
As Wen Changhe sat by the bed in a daze, a soft breeze brushed past his face.
Beside the disposable cup on the table, faint, watery words began to appear — as though someone were writing them with a wet fingertip: “I’m here.”
Wen Changhe noticed the line of text, and a faint smile appeared on his lips.
Moments later, another line appeared on the table’s surface: “I can’t show up right now, but I’ll always be by your side.”
The man’s smile froze. Would he never see the boy again?
Then a thought struck him—could appearing in person harm the boy somehow?
Just then, Wen Changhe’s phone rang. It was his secretary calling.
“President Wen, you scheduled a meeting with President Hua at ten this morning. Where are you now? President Hua has already arrived at the company.”
If the secretary hadn’t reminded him, Wen Changhe might have forgotten that he was the busy president of a large corporation.
“Have the vice president receive him. I have something to take care of and won’t be coming to the office this week,” Wen Changhe said.
“But sir, you have a meeting tomorrow regarding the international competition six months from now…”
“Postpone it to next Monday. Prepare all the materials and we’ll discuss everything then.”
After hanging up, Wen Changhe turned his attention back to the tabletop.
The boy hadn’t written any new words.
He sat there in a daze, lost in thought.
The doctor came on rounds to check the boy’s condition, accompanied by two plainly dressed middle-aged people.
“Doctor, how is my son? When will he wake up?”
The elderly Bai couple had worked in the fields all their lives; they looked far older than their actual age. Their faces were full of grief—how could they not despair, seeing their only son lying between life and death?
“Just last month, Tang Tang was still full of energy when he came home… How did it come to this…”
“Heaven has no eyes…”
Father Bai was a taciturn man. After asking the doctor about the medical expenses, he fell silent.
Mother Bai wept bitterly, so much so that even the doctor couldn’t bear to watch.
“Let’s go back,” Father Bai said, pulling at his sobbing wife. “We’ll borrow what we can from our relatives. Every bit counts.”
It was useless to make a scene at the hospital—the driver who caused the accident had fled, and the most urgent matter now was paying for their son’s treatment.
The accident that befell Bai Tang had plunged their already struggling family into deeper hardship. Most of their relatives were poor as well; few would be willing to lend them money. But he was their only son. Even when he had become mute after a fright years ago, they had never given up on him. Now, they couldn’t either.
Even if it meant selling everything they owned, they had to save him.
The doctor, seeing that Wen Changhe was still there, quickly said, “This is Mr. Wen. He’s willing to cover Bai Tang’s medical expenses.”
Father Bai was stunned. He grabbed Wen Changhe’s hand and asked, “You’re the driver who caused the accident, aren’t you?”
Otherwise, why would a stranger be willing to pay for his son’s treatment?
As soon as Mother Bai heard that, she began to strike and claw at Wen Changhe in grief. “You heartless murderer! Give me back my son—give him back to me!”
Women who work the fields have strong arms, and it took Wen Changhe a great deal of effort to restrain her flailing hands. “I’m not the driver,” he said, “but I do bear some responsibility for what happened.”
If it hadn’t been for saving Wen Changrou, Bai Tang wouldn’t have been injured.
From the roadside surveillance footage, it appeared that Bai Tang had tried to pull Wen Changrou out of harm’s way. He lost his balance and fell into the road, getting hit by the car.
The three people’s positions were coincidental—Zu Shuang happened to block the camera. The footage only showed Bai Tang reaching for Wen Changrou, while the moment Zu Shuang pushed him was hidden by her back. So, in the video, it looked as though Bai Tang had sacrificed himself to save someone else.
Saving a life is a good deed—but losing your own in the process is not.
Once the Bai couple learned the truth, they couldn’t blame Wen Changhe. He was only the brother of the person involved; the real culprit was the hit-and-run driver who left Bai Tang in a vegetative state.
The elderly couple thanked Wen Changhe profusely. “You’re such a good man…”
Leaving the Bai couple in the hospital room, Wen Changhe went with the doctor to settle the bills.
Later, he returned home under an umbrella. In the garden, Wen Changrou and Zu Shuang were laughing as they ate pastries and played with the dog.
Their bright, carefree smiles stung his eyes.
“Brother, you’re back so late! The company must be keeping you busy again, huh?” With Wen Changhe always shouldering everything for her, Wen Changrou had grown up innocent and carefree.
“I just came from the hospital.”
Even after spoiling his sister for over twenty years, Wen Changhe still couldn’t bring himself to speak harshly to her.
At the mention of the hospital, Wen Changrou immediately recalled the scene of Bai Tang lying in a pool of blood. The memory was so terrifying that she quickly pushed it away.
She deliberately changed the subject, nudging Zu Shuang forward. “Brother, Shuang Shuang is in the same major as me—design! Her graduation project got high praise from her professor last night. She’s really talented in design, so why let that talent go to waste? Why not let her join our company?”
Standing before the man she had often seen in magazines—the so-called “diamond bachelor” Wen Changhe—Zu Shuang was nervous, though even more bashful than afraid.
Wen Changhe, after a sleepless night, didn’t look exhausted at all. Instead, there was a faint touch of weariness that made him even more mature and alluring. The more Wen Changrou spoke about him, the deeper Zu Shuang’s admiration grew.
Although he couldn’t see the boy, Wen Changhe knew that the boy had followed him home. Tang Tang was afraid of sunlight and didn’t want to linger in the courtyard with the two girls.
“Do as you like. Just let the secretary know,” Wen Changhe said with a wave of his hand before striding inside.
As the second young lady of the Wen family, Wen Changrou didn’t manage company affairs, but everyone in upper management knew who she was—including the secretary.
Once Wen Changhe went inside, Wen Changrou picked up her phone and called the president’s secretary to explain the situation.
“Understood, Miss Wen. I’ll arrange it right away,” the secretary replied.
“Rou Rou, I really don’t feel right about this, I—”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Wen Changrou interrupted with a smile. “Your professor is famous for being hard to please, and you managed to win him over! Someone as talented as you—if you don’t join the Wen Corporation, it’s our loss. Besides, we’re good friends, aren’t we? You even saved me. Don’t thank me for something this small…”
“Mhm, we’re good friends…” Zu Shuang said, touched.
Since Wen Changrou hadn’t told Zu Shuang exactly what position she would be getting, Zu Shuang assumed the call to Wen Changhe’s secretary was to arrange a management role—or perhaps even a personal assistant position to the president. But when she arrived at the company, she froze.
To her surprise, the secretary had arranged for her to be just an intern in the design department.
But that’s a story for later.
Back to Wen Changhe—
After Bai Tang followed his beloved home, the first thing Wen Changhe did was draw the curtains, fetch a glass of water from the washroom, and set it on the table.
“Tang Tang, are you tired? Did the sun get to you just now?” Wen Changhe asked gently.
A faint trace of moisture appeared on the dark tabletop, forming words stroke by stroke: “I’m not tired, just a little hungry~”
The little squirrel was hinting—he wanted to eat pine nuts.
Wen Changhe paused. Could a soul even eat food? How would that work?
“How can I help you? What do you want to eat?” he asked softly.
Soon, another line appeared on the table: “I have my own food.”
A soul wasn’t the same as a ghost—it didn’t need offerings or burnt paper. Qiu’er always had his ways to make sure Bai Tang could enjoy his treats.
Before Wen Changhe’s unseen eyes, Bai Tang had turned back into a small squirrel, sitting on the table and nibbling on a pine nut with both paws.
“Chirp chirp chirp—” So delicious. What a pity that A He can’t taste it.
Wen Changhe stared at the words on the table, his mind suddenly filled with countless questions.
How did Tang Tang eat? What exactly was he eating? Was it clean? Was it healthy?…
After being bombarded with too many questions, the little squirrel became unwilling to respond.
He simply wrote, “I’m sleepy. I want to go to bed.”
Then he fell silent, leaving President Wen standing alone in the room, feeling a vague sense of loss.
The little squirrel wasn’t very happy. His beloved couldn’t see him, couldn’t make him delicious food, and now—on top of that—was trying to restrict what he ate!
Beside him, Qiu’er gloated, “Serves him right! The male lead is way too controlling.”
Xiao A, however, quietly took note of all the questions the male lead had asked. They were all out of concern for the host. It even seemed that Qiu’er loved to eat, especially snacks—and sometimes, after eating too much, he would complain that his stomach hurt.
Shouldn’t he also limit Qiu’er’s snack intake?
Although the ever-busy President Wen had taken a week off from work, he couldn’t just completely ignore everything and be idle.
He sat in his study, staring absentmindedly at the computer screen.
Was Tang Tang awake yet? Where was he sleeping? Did he have a blanket? Was he cold?…
So many questions crowded his mind, but he didn’t dare ask any of them.
First, he was afraid of waking Bai Tang if he was still asleep; second, he was afraid Tang Tang might still be angry and refuse to answer him again.
Earlier, after all, Tang Tang had gotten mad precisely because of too many questions.
So—how could he make him happy again?
With that thought, President Wen’s fingers began to move unconsciously over the keyboard, typing:
[How to coax an angry boyfriend.]
He posted the question on a forum.
By the time Wen Changhe realized what he’d done, his post had already received quite a few replies—though most of them were rather impractical.
[Buy him flowers!]
[Give him perfume!]
[Get him lipstick!]
[Take him on a date and apologize!]
[Kneel on the keyboard!]
President Wen pursed his lips, frowning slightly at the cliché suggestions.
After a moment’s thought, he added a clarification to his post: [I’m a man, and my partner is also a boy.]
That one line stirred up a storm.
In an instant, the thread exploded—drawing out a crowd of “empathetic big sisters” and like-minded souls.