Shang Xuci smiled, not exposing him. “Yeah, I know.”
Seeing Jian Xun’s embarrassment, Shang Xuci lied without blinking. “The bed’s a little cold. Do you want to put on your pajamas?”
“Yeah.” Jian Xun stretched out one leg, hooked his clothes with it, tugged them under the covers, and dressed himself.
After putting on his clothes, he lay flat and still, not daring to move.
He didn’t dare sleep next to Shang Xuci. Even with just a few inches between them, he could feel the warmth radiating from her body. His own body soon grew scorching hot.
Jian Xun touched his burning cat ears and closed his eyes.
I should have known better.
…
In the morning, Shang Xuci opened his eyes to see a pair of furry cat ears. The two were very close. Jian Xun was lying on his side, fully dressed. Shang Xuci could clearly see the faint blush on his cheeks, the trembling of his eyelashes, and the loose strands of hair covering his other eye. His breathing was steady—he slept soundly.
Shang Xuci stared at him intently for a long moment, then checked his phone for the time. Unable to bear getting up, he carefully moved his arm to take a picture of Jian Xun, watching the boy’s carefree sleeping face.
The sky over City A was hazy.
On the way out, Jian Xun sneezed several times. Looking at the smoggy sky, he muttered, “Won’t breathing this kind of air for a few years shorten my lifespan?”
Shang Xuci handed him a white mask. “Put it on.”
Jian Xun obediently put it on. His face was small, and the mask covered most of it.
Shang Xuci drove while Jian Xun sat in the passenger seat. They parked downstairs at the company building, Jian Xun following closely behind him.
Jian Xun glanced at the time. His expression shifted slightly, and his pace quickened.
Shang Xuci grabbed him. “What’s the rush?”
“It’s the last day of the month for perfect attendance. I’m almost late!” Jian Xun said sternly.
Then he shot Shang Xuci a look of accusation. If he hadn’t woken up late that morning—and insisted on petting cats—he wouldn’t have left home later than usual.
Jian Xun rushed to the staff elevator, where he ran into Fu Qian.
The moment Jian Xun entered, a faint scent of snowy mountain pine reached Fu Qian’s nose. He glanced at Jian Xun and noticed he was wearing Shang Xuci’s clothes.
Although they were Shang Xuci’s school clothes, Fu Qian’s sharp eyes recognized them instantly.
Jian Xun spotted Fu Qian and greeted him. “Good morning.”
“Good morning. You’re not with Shang Xuci today?”
“Yes,” Jian Xun said, remembering to clock in. As soon as the elevator opened, he rushed out.
After getting ready for work, Jian Xun saw Fu Qian enter Shang Xuci’s office. He hung his mask on the cabinet.
The women in the office were discussing job titles. Jian Xun joined in, watching everyone talk about improving their skills. He suddenly felt that his own work was pointless.
The problem was that Shang Xuci had more than one assistant. Jian Xun’s daily tasks mostly consisted of odd jobs, and he wanted to improve his skills rather than rely on Shang Xuci for the rest of his life.
The female colleagues noticed his distress and offered suggestions.
Some asked, since Jian Xun was so good-looking, hadn’t he considered entering the entertainment industry? After all, Mr. Shang owned an entertainment company that trained artists, and Jian Xun’s style was very popular. He would definitely appeal to the audience.
Others suggested that Jian Xun pursue something he genuinely enjoyed or was good at.
Jian Xun thought carefully and decided he had no intention of entering the entertainment industry for the time being. While filming a cat-themed movie, he had experienced firsthand how difficult acting was. It required real skill, and he didn’t think he had much talent for it.
As for hobbies—
He enjoyed cooking, but only for Shang Xuci. He had never considered becoming a chef or cooking for others.
The rest was just gaming.
To be honest, Jian Xun considered himself a decent player. His strengths were his hand speed and quick reflexes. He could even spend an entire afternoon just watching others play.
Perhaps he could try becoming a game streamer?
Jian Xun planned to bring it up with Shang Xuci later; he might be able to give him better advice.
…
At noon, Jian Xun went to Shang Xuci’s office with his lunch box.
“We’ve found Du Guan’s tracks.”
Shang Xuci spoke in a deep voice. “Find an opportunity to capture him. Then proceed with the process.”
Du Guan?
Jian Xun froze when he heard the name at the door. Wasn’t that the villain who was supposed to appear later in the series? How could he show up so soon?
“Mr. Shang also knows about this accident, as well as Shang Wei’s illness,” Fu Qian said after a pause. “Xu Rong wants to distance herself from the matter, using Shang Yi as a scapegoat while acting pitiful. She cries in front of Mr. Shang every day.”
Fu Qian continued, “Because of Shang Yi’s incident, Shang Ye was fired from Shang Group headquarters by Mr. Shang.
“It seems Mr. Shang wants to hand the company over to you.”
Shang Xuci replied, “Even if he doesn’t, Shang Group is mine.”
His trip to Country M had secured a deal, and he now held the shares—including Shang Wei’s. He had the final say in Shang Group, and not even Shang Jue could overturn his decisions.
“What about Xu Rong…”
Shang Xuci said calmly, “I’ll handle it personally.”
“Thank you for your hard work.” Shang Xuci looked up at Fu Qian. “Once this matter is settled, I’ll give you a long vacation.”
In his previous life, Shang Xuci had been somewhat extreme. Ever since he became disabled, he had grown paranoid and distrustful of everyone. Even though Fu Qian had been fostered and promoted by his grandfather, and even though he had known him since childhood, Shang Xuci still wouldn’t open up to him.
Yet he knew Fu Qian had sacrificed so much for his grandfather and for the New Domain, and had never once betrayed him until the day he died. So after regaining his memories in this life, he immediately brought Fu Qian to his side and treated him as a close confidant.
Shang Xuci was grateful for everything Fu Qian had done for him. In return, he gave him nothing but generous compensation and the best treatment.
“Xinyu will rely on you even more in the future.”
It was a simple statement, but this time, Fu Qian sensed a different weight behind it. A vague feeling stirred in him, and his brows furrowed slightly.
Fu Qian had grown up in a remote mountainous area. Despite his fierce appearance, he had always possessed a kind heart.
As a child, he had struggled with poor grades, and his parents had little faith in him. With both older and younger siblings in the family, their limited finances went to supporting the most promising students.
Just when he was about to drop out of school, he met Shen Tianlei, who was doing charity work at the time. Fu Qian seized the opportunity, and Shen Tianlei sponsored his education. After graduating from university, he joined Shen Tianlei’s company and worked at his side.
It could be said that without Mr. Shen, there would be no Fu Qian today.
And now, that person was Shang Xuci.
Fu Qian turned to open the door and saw Jian Xun standing there with a lunch box. He gave him a nod.
Jian Xun closed the door and looked at Shang Xuci worriedly. “How are you going to deal with them?”
Seeing his concern, Shang Xuci took the lunch boxes from his hands, then took Jian Xun’s hand and led him toward the restaurant.
“Don’t worry. I’m different from them—I wouldn’t do anything illegal,” Shang Xuci said slowly. “There will be legal procedures to punish them.”
The nightmare Jian Xun had once told him about flashed through his mind. Shang Xuci squeezed his hand, speaking both to Jian Xun and perhaps to himself: “I will cherish every day of my life.”
Jian Xun let out a deep breath, feeling reassured.
He squeezed Shang Xuci’s hand in return and asked, “Are we going to the restaurant instead of the lounge?”
“We’ll go to the restaurant from now on.” Shang Xuci’s lips curved slightly.
Before, he had worried that Jian Xun would be shy, that he might overthink some idle gossip.
Now that they had spoken openly, as a serious couple, they naturally had to eat in the restaurant like everyone else.
It was lunchtime. Shang Xuci accompanied him in the staff elevator. When they entered, the elevator was already crowded with employees. Jian Xun noticed their surprised expressions as they all greeted Shang Xuci. Their intense gazes followed them until they stepped out. Only then did Jian Xun break free from his hand and shove it into his pocket.
Shang Xuci lowered his gaze, catching a glimpse of the burning tips of his ears—but he didn’t force it.
The two chose an inconspicuous corner for lunch, but Jian Xun was still keenly aware of the people around them whispering about him and Shang Xuci.
Looking around, he noticed that everyone else carried cafeteria plates, making their lunch boxes stand out awkwardly.
“That’s weird,” Jian Xun said. “Next time, let’s eat in the lounge or just get cafeteria food.”
That way, they wouldn’t have to bring their own meals.
And every day after work, they could still go home to Uncle Zhao’s cooking. The thought alone made him happy.
Shang Xuci said dotingly, “It’s all up to you.”
After lunch, Jian Xun diligently climbed onto the bed to make the sheets.
Unlike before, when he had been more reserved, Jian Xun now relaxed—sprawled out on the soft bed, playing on his phone.
Then he saw the company group chat buzzing with lively conversation—about him and Shang Xuci.
Someone tagged a female colleague close to him, asking her to find out whether Jian Xun planned to make the relationship public.
Jian Xun scrolled through the comments and found a flood of brazen remarks about the couple, even mentioning a drawing he had made earlier while visiting the business conference room at noon. His face slowly turned red.
Bang!
His cat ears suddenly popped up.
Jian Xun hesitated, wondering if he should remind them that he was also in the group chat…
Suddenly, a photo appeared.
The director typed: [Who hung their underwear outside the changing room? This is the company—how can such a thing be allowed?]
Jian Xun also thought it was outrageous. But upon closer inspection, he realized—it was his own locker.
He hadn’t had much contact with this director before. He only remembered him as a kindly man with thick glasses, poor vision, and poor facial recognition skills.
Frantically examining the picture, Jian Xun confirmed that the item in question really was his. He quickly tagged the director to explain: [This is my mask, not underwear.]
He added a finger-pointing emoji for emphasis.
The director’s misstep—and Jian Xun’s appearance in the chat—startled everyone. The group leader had almost forgotten that he was even in the group.
The director hurriedly wiped his glasses, put them back on, and craned his neck to peer into the dressing room across the way.
It was indeed a mask.
He then sent an emoji of himself shaking hands with Jian Xun, joking: [Looks like I need another pair of glasses.]
With that, he quietly exited the group chat.
The others immediately asked Jian Xun if he had seen their chat history.
Jian Xun nodded obediently.
Then, seizing the chance, someone else began questioning him.
At that moment, Jian Xun felt two gentle pats on his butt. He turned around to see Shang Xuci, then quickly rolled into the bed to make room for him.
When he set his phone alarm, he noticed the group chat buzzing. Curious, Jian Xun scrolled up and saw that Shang Xuci had sent a message:
[He’s shy, don’t tease him.]
Below, the chat was filled with people kneeling in reply.
Love Cake: [Okay, Boss.]
Crazy Monday: [Okay, Boss.]
Star: [Okay, Boss.]
[Please help keep an eye on Jian Xun. Please help yourself to the food at Suffuse.]
Blue Sky: [Okay, thank you, Boss.]
Puff: [Okay, thank you, Boss.]
Eat Dirt: [Okay, thank you, Boss.]
There were also many well-wishes that followed.
…
Shang Xuci turned to look at Jian Xun, who was sprawled across the bed with his head buried under the blanket, his cat ears drooping at his sides.
Shang Xuci patted his head. “Sleep.”