Chapter 20
And so, Song-shadow sat in Xie Zhang’s lap, accompanying him as he read fluffy romance stories until 2:30 am.
This felt…
…surreal.
Song Jingmo looked up at Xie Zhang, engrossed in the tablet.
Xie Zhang, with his aloof demeanor and methodical personality, didn’t seem like the type to waste time on such things.
Song Jingmo had never imagined a day where he’d be sitting in Xie Zhang’s lap, reading manga together.
Even though it was just fluffy romance, not explicit content, it was still… with Xie Zhang.
With Xie Zhang…
Song Jingmo stared at Xie Zhang’s long fingers on the tablet, the chibi shadow unconsciously gulping.
It felt like pulling a god down from his pedestal.
His shadow tip tapped the tablet, his heart pounding, wanting to bolt out of the room and run laps around the villa.
Then he remembered he was sitting on Xie Zhang’s abs, and he flushed crimson.
His shadow tendrils twitched nervously, flipping through several pages.
Xie Zhang caught the trembling tendril, gently stroking it, then turned the page back.
Ah… he was actually reading it seriously.
Song Jingmo clutched the edge of the blanket, nuzzling against Xie Zhang’s wrist, his head resting near his pulse, still and quiet.
Xie Zhang was indeed reading, but his attention was mostly on Song-shadow.
He observed Song Jingmo’s awkward yet endearing behavior, his expression thoughtful.
He’d tried to learn about Song Jingmo’s interests before.
He often saw Xu Yi and Song Jingmo huddled together, whispering conspiratorially, sometimes giggling like children who’d stolen a cookie.
But whenever he tried to ask Xu Yi, the words wouldn’t come.
Perhaps it was his pride, or his possessiveness, but he hated admitting that Xu Yi knew Song Jingmo better than he did.
He’d tried to talk to Song Jingmo about it several times, a serious discussion between lovers.
But the more serious he became, the more uncomfortable Song Jingmo became, blushing and fleeing, refusing to communicate.
After a few attempts, Xie Zhang had reluctantly given up.
But now…
He carefully read the content on the tablet. These stories were frivolous, but if it was with Momo, then no time spent together was wasted.
He still cared.
He cared that Song Jingmo hadn’t wanted him to know.
After a moment of hesitation, he finally asked softly: “Momo, why… when I tried to learn about your interests, what you enjoyed reading, why did you always refuse to talk about it?”
Hearing this, Song Jingmo was certain that Xie Zhang was pretending, putting on an act.
He grabbed Xie Zhang’s phone, ready to expose him, typing:
【Of course it’s because what I usually read isn’t…】
He stopped mid-sentence, his shadow tendril freezing on the screen.
Of course, it was because his usual reading material wasn’t exactly… innocent.
He still cared about his image in front of Xie Zhang.
Besides—
Who would willingly watch or read explicit content with their lover?!
It was mortifyingly embarrassing.
It would be a blatant act of seduction!
And the main problem was, Song Jingmo’s… equipment… wasn’t up to the task. Teasing Xie Zhang would only lead to frustration for both of them.
But now…
He looked up, meeting Xie Zhang’s gaze.
The chibi shadow lowered his head, embarrassed.
His shadow tendrils curled and twisted, like black whipped cream.
After his earlier impulsive act, he didn’t think he’d have the courage to confess again anytime soon.
And even if he did, there were other problems.
Knowing Xie Zhang’s tendency to blame himself, he might think it was his fault, his failure as a lover, that had led to Song Jingmo’s… unmet needs.
The thought made Song Jingmo’s shadow explode outwards, spreading across the bed like a dark blanket.
Xie Zhang, waiting for an answer: “?”
Song Jingmo closed his eyes peacefully.
He didn’t care anymore.
He was just a harmless hallucination, a figment of Xie Zhang’s imagination. How could he possibly answer a question Xie Zhang himself didn’t know the answer to?
He peeked at Xie Zhang with one eye.
Seeing him about to speak, Song Jingmo quickly covered his mouth with a shadow tendril, pushed him down onto the pillow, and pulled the covers over him.
Another tendril covered his eyes.
No more questions!
Go to sleep!
Chapter 21
The next morning, neither Xie Zhang nor his shadow, who had vowed to follow a strict exercise schedule, got out of bed.
To be precise, Xie Zhang was awake.
But Song Jingmo, transformed into a shadow duvet, held him captive, sprawled across him, his light, inky form surprisingly heavy.
Xie Zhang didn’t have the heart to move him.
He looked down at the sleeping Song-shadow, his arm reaching out from under the covers to gently catch a stray tendril that was tickling him.
And so, they watched the dawn break, the sky lightening from pale grey to the golden hues of morning.
Song Jingmo stretched, bumping against something. Thinking it was the tablet he’d forgotten to put away, the sleepy young master pressed down on it with his entire weight.
A muffled groan echoed from beneath him.
Song-shadow shot up, clinging to the overhead light, instantly awake.
Xie Zhang looked up at him, a smile in his eyes, then got out of bed.
Good morning, Momo.
He said silently.
Song-shadow watched him enter the bathroom, grumbled, then let go, allowing the mysterious force to pull him back to Xie Zhang’s side.
Xie Zhang carefully stepped aside.
Song Jingmo suddenly realized that Xie Zhang had been very careful with his movements lately, avoiding stepping on or crushing him.
Being stepped on didn’t actually hurt; after all, a shadow was connected to its owner. Song Jingmo’s focus was mostly on the parts of himself he’d shaped.
It was getting late. Xie Zhang had a full day of work ahead of him.
The chibi shadow sat in Song Jingmo’s toothbrush holder, watching him wash up.
When Xie Zhang began shaving, he even extended a shadow tendril, playing with the shaving cream, gathering a large dollop and holding it in his miniature arms.
Song Jingmo’s facial hair didn’t grow as fast as Xie Zhang’s. He only needed to shave every few days, and he always played with the shaving cream.
But everything seemed more fun in his chibi form.
Perhaps it was this optimistic outlook that allowed him to accept his new, unusual existence.
Xie Zhang, a smile in his eyes, patiently wiped his face clean.
As he left the bathroom, Song Jingmo quickly rinsed the shaving cream off himself and darted out.
His remaining shadow thoughtfully turned off the faucet.
After drying himself on Xie Zhang’s towel, Song Jingmo looked up and saw that Xie Zhang was already dressed in his shirt and trousers. He sighed wistfully.
Xie Zhang, who heard the sigh clearly, paused.
He glanced at the featureless shadow, frowning slightly, wondering what had caused the sigh.
Buttoning his shirt…?
He looked down at himself, replaying his actions.
It couldn’t be because of his belt, could it?
Song Jingmo, oblivious to the fact that Xie Zhang could hear him, flowed into the open drawer, examining Xie Zhang’s ties.
When Xie Zhang, giving up on choosing, reached for a random tie, he was met with the adorable sight of a tiny, inky black tie rack.
The chibi shadow emerged from the drawer, a blue striped tie draped over one shoulder, a burgundy patterned tie perched on his head, and two more dark, understated ties clutched in his arms, his indecision evident despite his lack of features.
Xie Zhang froze.
Song Jingmo looked up at him, placed the two plain ties back in the drawer, and continued to contemplate the blue and burgundy ones, holding them up against Xie Zhang, comparing them.
The well-dressed CEO stood before the mirror, a smile in his eyes, watching his lover’s busy activity.
In the end, Song Jingmo didn’t choose either the blue or the burgundy tie—he chose a dark grey one with a subtle silver star pattern.
He remembered this tie.
Xie Zhang rarely wore such flashy accessories to work, but he always wore this tie to Song Jingmo’s concerts.
It held a special significance for Song Jingmo, a silent language of unspoken feelings.
Being so small made tying the tie difficult, so he used two shadow tendrils, expertly knotting it around Xie Zhang’s neck, then opened the tie clip drawer, seemingly intent on completing the look.
Xie Zhang wasn’t in a hurry; he hadn’t gone for his morning run and had plenty of time.
Song Jingmo, ever the playful one, held up various tie clips, then, as if to better assess the overall effect, formed a cat head and perched on Xie Zhang’s head, facing the mirror.
Half an hour later.
Song Jingmo, satisfied with the impeccably dressed Xie Zhang, gestured dramatically with a shadow tendril.
Excellent, let’s go!
…
Xu Yi, seeing his boss, feigned surprise.
As expected, a smile touched Xie Zhang’s usually stoic face, his demeanor softening, as if pleased with the effect.
Xu Yi nodded inwardly.
A harmonious home life clearly boosted his boss’s mood and productivity.
A good secretary supported their boss; an excellent secretary managed them.
After observing his boss, Xu Yi discreetly glanced at his shadow.
The shadow wiggled, giving him a tiny heart.
Xu Yi smiled.
He didn’t know if it was the effect of the fluffy reading material or the diligently burned offerings, but—
Madam Boss seemed happy today.
Excellent, keep it up.
Just as he thought the day would proceed smoothly…
Mid-meeting, the chibi shadow politely tapped Xu Yi’s shoe.
Xu Yi’s pen stuttered, leaving a long mark on the paper.
He calmly turned the page, then, while Xie Zhang was discussing a technical issue with the data team, he “accidentally” dropped his pen under the table.
This under-the-table rendezvous felt… wrong.
But even more wrong was the sight of the chibi Madam Boss picking up his pen and gesturing for him to extend his hand.
Xu Yi: “…”
After a moment of silence, he held out his hand, palm up.
