Chapter 31
Despite Murong Cheng’s repeated assurances that Murong Yan’s visit was purely coincidental, his parents insisted he return to A City with the CEO immediately after the holiday.
To ensure they sat together on the flight back, he booked another first-class ticket, courtesy of Murong Yan, of course.
As usual, his parents packed his suitcases with food, worried he would starve in A City. His father also slipped him a thick envelope filled with cash.
“Dad, I don’t need this…” he tried to refuse, pushing the envelope back. “I have enough money.”
He had graduated and started working. He should be giving money to his parents, not the other way around. Although he had only graduated six months ago and his savings were meager, he had still managed a small red envelope for his parents during the New Year.
“The homestay business was good this year. We made a decent profit. This is for you,” his father insisted, placing the envelope back in his hand. “You just graduated. You can repay us when your salary increases. Your boss seems like a good man. Work hard and don’t be afraid of hardship!”
Unable to refuse, he accepted the money. “Thank you, Mom and Dad! I’ll work hard!”
The last sentence was as much a promise to himself as to his parents.
New year, new Murong Cheng!
Back in A City, he realized Murong Yan truly was incredibly busy. The two days in H City must have been a hard-won reprieve. Murong Yan left the apartment before he woke up and returned after he had fallen asleep.
Being a CEO wasn’t easy.
Inspired by Murong Yan’s dedication, and fueled by love, he decided to be more proactive, studying the company documents at Murong Yan’s apartment.
On his last day off, his 8:30 am alarm woke him. He ordered coffee from his phone, still half-asleep, then got out of bed. Murong Yan had a fancy coffee machine, but he didn’t know how to use it and was afraid of breaking it.
A warm breakfast, prepared by the housekeeper, was waiting on the dining table. The congee was still steaming in its ceramic bowl.
He sat down, took a photo of his breakfast for Murong Yan, as usual, and then started eating while scrolling through the news.
He froze.
He saw Murong Yan’s name trending.
#Guangyu CEO Murong Yan to Marry Heiress of Top Media Conglomerate, Oriental Group
He reread the headline several times, struggling to process it.
Marriage…
Wasn’t that something that only happened in dramas?
But his thumb, as if with a mind of its own, clicked on the trending topic.
The first result was a photo of Murong Yan with a woman.
They were standing in front of a European-style mansion, both wearing elegant coats. The photo looked like a paparazzi shot, their faces partially obscured, but still recognizable.
“To marry”… so they weren’t married yet. Why all the fuss? It wasn’t like Murong Yan would announce his marriage plans to the paparazzi. These entertainment news outlets were just making things up.
He angrily tossed his phone onto the table and took a large spoonful of congee.
The hot porridge burned his tongue. He dropped the spoon back into the bowl with a clatter.
He picked up his phone and forwarded the news to Murong Yan.
A few minutes later, Murong Yan replied.
[Y: I’ll take care of it.]
No explanation, no reassurance, just a curt “I’ll take care of it.”
Although he had expected this, the lack of acknowledgement still stung.
He spent the day studying, fueled by caffeine. By dinner time, Murong Yan still hadn’t returned. He ate alone and then decided to go out for a walk.
When he didn’t know where to go, FISH BAR was his default destination.
He arrived at the bar, the warm interior a welcome contrast to the cold outside. He took off his coat and walked inside.
Chi Yu was busy behind the bar, a long list of orders in front of him. He glanced at Murong Cheng and said, “Go to the back room. I’ll be there soon.”
With work tomorrow, Murong Cheng wasn’t planning to drink. He went straight to the back room, turned on the colorful lights, grabbed a soda from the fridge, and sat down on the sofa.
The lemon-lime soda was sweet and fizzy. He drank half the bottle, the heavy feeling in his chest easing slightly. Just as he was about to finish the rest, he heard footsteps and looked up to see a face he wasn’t expecting.
“Well, well, if it isn’t my dear sister-in-law, out on the town alone,” Murong Jing said, entering the room with a bottle of Corona, a smirk on his face.
“Alone at a bar, drowning your sorrows? Where’s my brother? Or are you celebrating? Guangyu’s stock price went up today, didn’t it? I saw my brother’s name trending all day. If he really marries that Oriental Group heiress, Guangyu will surpass our parent company, won’t it?”
Murong Cheng’s eyes widened, his face hardening. He put down his soda.
“What are you doing here?”
“This is my bar. I can come and go as I please,” Murong Jing said, taking a sip of beer.
“Your bar?” Murong Cheng frowned.
Murong Jing glanced at him. “It wasn’t before, but it is now. A-Yu works here, so I bought it.”
Murong Cheng’s breath hitched. “What’s your relationship with Chi Yu?”
Murong Jing chuckled. “Didn’t he introduce me? I’m his boyfriend. Having memory problems, sister-in-law? Are you overworked at night?”
His blatant mockery made Murong Cheng’s face darken.
“Did you approach him intentionally?” he glared at Murong Jing.
“What do you think?” Murong Jing sat down beside him, the beer bottle pressed against his lips, a playful smirk on his face.
A chill ran down Murong Cheng’s spine. “What are you planning?”
Murong Jing didn’t answer. “What do you think I’m planning?”
Murong Cheng’s lips tightened. “I’m just his assistant. Duan-ge handles all the important matters. This is pointless.”
Murong Jing looked at him intently. “Pointless? Then what are you worried about?”
“I…” Murong Cheng was speechless.
Just then, Chi Yu entered, carrying a tray with a glass of whiskey and a glass of sparkling water. The ice clinked against the glass.
He immediately sensed the tension in the room.
He looked at Murong Cheng and Murong Jing. “What are you talking about?”
“We were guessing when you would arrive, my love,” Murong Jing said, standing up and kissing Chi Yu’s forehead. “Weren’t we?”
He looked at Murong Cheng, a challenging glint in his eyes.
He was betting that Murong Cheng wouldn’t reveal their relationship, almost daring him to.
Murong Cheng took a deep breath.
He had no reason to hide this from Chi Yu.
He couldn’t understand Murong Jing’s motives and didn’t want to. This was between Chi Yu and his boyfriend. He had to let Chi Yu decide.
“Chi Yu,” he said, his fingers tightening around his sleeve.
Chi Yu looked at him. “Yes?”
Murong Cheng: “I… I’ve met him before. Before Yang Manman’s wedding.”
Chi Yu looked confused, not understanding what he was trying to say.
Murong Cheng: “His Chinese name is Murong Jing. He’s Murong Yan’s younger brother.”
Silence.
Chi Yu’s hand trembled, and the drinks on the tray crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces.
Seeing the shock and hurt on Chi Yu’s face, Murong Cheng quietly left the room, stepping around the broken glass.
“I’ll be going then. You two talk.”
His attempt to unwind at the bar had backfired. He went home, his mind racing.
He didn’t know what would happen between Chi Yu and Murong Jing. Would they argue? Break up? Would Chi Yu stop talking to him? Or would they pretend nothing had happened?
He saw Murong Yan’s shoes in the shoe rack near the door and smiled.
He unlocked the door and heard the sound of running water from the bathroom.
He took off his coat, changed into slippers, and sat down on the sofa in the living room. The water stopped. A few minutes later, Murong Yan emerged from the bedroom, wearing a bathrobe.
His hair was still damp, the dark strands clinging to his forehead, his face flushed from the steam.
“You went out?” he asked, his voice slightly husky.
The lingering scent of smoke and alcohol from the bar still clung to him. Murong Cheng nodded, trying to maintain a stern expression.
He had a right to be angry.
Who wouldn’t be angry seeing their boyfriend’s photo with another woman trending online?
Murong Yan blinked, a drop of water sliding down his hair and disappearing into the soft fabric of his bathrobe.
“Jealous,” he stated.
Then he stepped closer, his warmth enveloping Murong Cheng.
“No, I’m not,” Murong Cheng said stubbornly, then frowned. “Have you been drinking?”
The scent of alcohol on Murong Yan was stronger than on him, even after the shower.
“I had a business dinner,” Murong Yan said casually.
“With whom?” Murong Cheng asked instinctively, then immediately regretted it.
He was Murong Yan’s boyfriend, but Murong Yan was also his boss.
“It’s fine…”
Murong Yan didn’t seem to mind the question. “A business partner.”
Then he added, pointedly, “Not the Oriental Group heiress from the news.”
Murong Cheng: “I didn’t say—”
He was about to protest when Murong Yan’s lips silenced him.
He cupped the back of Murong Cheng’s head, his tongue, tasting of mint and alcohol, exploring his mouth.
“Mmm… Murong Yan…”
Why was he kissing him before even explaining anything?
Murong Cheng tried to pull away, but Murong Yan held him firmly, deepening the kiss, his arm sliding down his back.
“Murong Yan!” he gasped as the CEO’s cool fingers slipped under his sweater.
Murong Yan looked at him innocently. “What’s wrong, wifey?”
Murong Cheng turned his head away.
Murong Yan: “The marriage rumors have been retracted. Duan Shao spoke with the media. There won’t be any more news like that.”
Murong Cheng remained silent.
Murong Yan: “I’ve known Ji Ying’an since childhood, but we’re not romantically involved.”
Murong Cheng: “Ji Ying’an?”
Murong Yan: “The Oriental Group heiress.”
Murong Cheng: “Oh.”
Murong Yan paused, then continued, looking at him intently. “There’s no one else. Ah Cheng, you’re the only one.”
Murong Cheng pouted, a smile playing on his lips. “Oh.”
His long lashes fluttered.
Murong Yan: “You’re so cute when you’re jealous.”
Murong Cheng blushed, his ears turning red.
“So, are we good now, wifey?” Murong Yan asked, his voice playful, his fingers tracing Murong Cheng’s spine.
Murong Cheng let out a soft moan, his voice trembling slightly.
He reached up and wrapped his arms around Murong Yan’s shoulders, his breathing quickening. His body felt warm, but Murong Yan’s warmth was even more intense.
Murong Yan’s touch was gentle and knowing, his kisses erasing the lingering pain, his every movement igniting a fire within Murong Cheng.
The warmth of the underfloor heating spread through him, a drop of water from Murong Yan’s hair landing on his forehead.
He offered no resistance.
He didn’t want to resist.
