Chapter 1
It was 8:30 Monday morning, and Jing Ciying arrived at the company precisely on time. Although the official start time was 9:00, the unique nature of his job required him to be half an hour early.
He took the elevator to the 32nd floor. As the doors opened, he was greeted by a nearly 100-square-meter foyer. In a city like Lincheng, where land was worth its weight in gold, such a large, practically useless space was breathtakingly extravagant. However, it also provided an unparalleled view. To the far right of the elevator was a massive floor-to-ceiling window, unobstructed by trees due to the height, allowing sunlight to stream in unhindered.
The late autumn sun was still bright, but without the summer’s scorching heat. It bathed the area near the window in a soft, golden glow.
Mount Feng was visible in the distance, its leaves already beginning to turn red. In a few weeks, the view from here would encompass a mountain ablaze with autumn colors.
However, Jing Ciying had no time to admire the scenery. He walked across the teak floor, past a twenty-person conference room and a multi-functional reception area, arriving at his workplace for the day: the office of Pei Songji, the current CEO of Pei Group.
It was common knowledge that the 32nd floor of Pei Group had no open-plan office area; the entire floor was Pei Songji’s personal workspace. Consequently, the office before him was enormous, over 300 square meters.
Besides the standard office area and a separate lounge, there was even a small indoor golf course, although Jing Ciying had never seen Pei Songji use it.
Continuing past the main office area, Jing Ciying opened a hidden door beside a walnut cabinet. Behind it was Pei Songji’s private lounge, also decorated in a modern Chinese style.
Further inside was a separate room, bright and serene, containing only a meter-high nanmu wood altar. In the center sat a golden statue of the God of Wealth, inlaid with precious stones and filigree.
This statue was supposedly custom-made by a master craftsman and consecrated. It was said to guarantee continuous wealth and prosperity to those who prayed sincerely. Thus, Jing Ciying’s first task every day was to light incense for the God of Wealth.
Generally, Jing Ciying didn’t believe in the supernatural. But there were always exceptions, and this was the God of Wealth, after all. So, Jing Ciying was always devout, meticulously following the ritual after washing his hands.
The incense-lighting process was elaborate. He had to pick up the incense sticks, light them, gently extinguish the flames, then hold three sticks in his right hand, cover his right hand with his left, bow three times, and then place one stick in the center of the incense burner with his left hand, another on the right, and the last one on the left. After placing all three sticks, he had to bow again before leaving.
Though the steps were complicated, he had performed them countless times over the years, becoming proficient. He quickly finished.
After leaving the lounge, Jing Ciying glanced at his watch. As usual, the minute hand pointed precisely at forty-five.
Pei Songji would arrive in fifteen minutes, so Jing Ciying proceeded directly to the pantry to prepare his coffee.
Despite serving only Pei Songji, the 32nd-floor pantry was spacious. Floor-to-ceiling cabinets on three walls displayed teas, coffee beans, and matching cups from around the world.
Pei Songji usually drank coffee in the morning, with different preferences each day. How different? Entirely up to Jing Ciying’s intuition.
Grasping someone’s preferences wasn’t easy, so it had taken Jing Ciying a long time to understand Pei Songji’s tastes. For instance, on Mondays, he preferred coffee with a bright acidity, a subtle bitterness, and a clean finish.
After selecting the beans, Jing Ciying ground them, brewed the coffee, and poured it into a suitable white bone china cup.
9:05.
Jing Ciying arrived punctually at Pei Songji’s office door with the coffee. He knocked, and upon hearing “Enter,” he pushed the door open.
Pei Songji was already seated at his desk.
As Jing Ciying placed the coffee down, the chief assistant entered with the day’s schedule and documents.
Pei Songji took a sip of coffee while the chief assistant read out his schedule. Jing Ciying arranged the documents in front of Pei Songji, placing his favorite pen to his right.
While listening to the schedule, Pei Songji took another sip, put down his cup, picked up the pen, but then paused.
Jing Ciying, understanding, stepped forward and opened the document for him. Only then did Pei Songji begin to read.
Jing Ciying maintained a professional smile while internally complaining. He couldn’t understand why someone needed help even to open a document. One might think the pages could cut Pei Songji’s delicate fingers.
Of course, these thoughts remained internal. After all, though the boss was demanding, the salary was undeniably generous.
After reviewing the schedule, the chief assistant waited for any adjustments. Jing Ciying waited as well. The schedule seemed busy.
As a personal secretary, as long as there were no business trips requiring his constant presence, he had relatively free time. Mondays were usually free of travel.
However, he heard Pei Songji tell the chief assistant, “Cancel this afternoon’s appointments.”
“Certainly, Mr. Pei,” the chief assistant replied. “Do you have other arrangements?”
“Yes.”
Pei Songji signed the last page of the document and looked up. Jing Ciying felt a sense of foreboding.
Sure enough, Pei Songji said, “I need to go to Dongcheng on a business trip.”
Jing Ciying: “…”
How did that manifest so quickly?
“Is there a problem?” Pei Songji asked, seeing Jing Ciying’s hesitation.
Jing Ciying quickly recovered and replied, “No problem, Mr. Pei. I’ll make the arrangements.”
He exited the office and began working. He booked flights to Dongcheng, called Pei Songji’s usual hotel to have his room prepared, then had the driver take him to the Pei residence to pack.
Although the trip was only three days, everything needed careful preparation. The clothes alone required several categories: suits, formal wear, casual wear, golfing attire, riding clothes, sportswear, and more.
Besides the clothes, he had to pack matching ties, cufflinks, tie pins, handkerchiefs, watches…
Since Pei Songji never bought clothes himself, relying on a stylist and personal shopper for biannual purchases totaling seven figures, these garments were incredibly delicate. Different clothes required different hangers and had to be hung to prevent deformation, snagging, or damage.
At home, there was dedicated staff, but on trips, Jing Ciying had to transport them to the hotel, instructing the staff on specific drying, airing, and ironing methods for each item. This ensured that even away from home, Pei Songji’s clothes would be wrinkle-free.
After arranging for the clothes to be flown to Dongcheng, Jing Ciying arrived at the Songhu Hotel.
Dongcheng’s Songhu Lake was a famous scenic spot, known for its winter scenery of rime ice on the trees. Although Pei Songji only spent a few days there each winter to appreciate the snow, the Songhu Hotel always kept his suite reserved.
Jing Ciying and the clothes arrived together. Although Pei Songji wouldn’t arrive for another half-day, Jing Ciying worked tirelessly. After inspecting the hotel room, he categorized the clothes and gave them to the staff for cleaning and drying. He then personally placed them in the closet and prepared everything else Pei Songji might need.
So, when Pei Songji arrived that evening, everything was perfectly arranged.
It was already night. Pei Songji changed into the prepared bathrobe and went to the bathroom. The bath was already drawn, the temperature perfect, even the toothpaste was squeezed onto the toothbrush.
Jing Ciying was always thorough, so Pei Songji wasn’t surprised, starting his evening routine as usual.
Meanwhile, Jing Ciying was taking a bath in the adjacent room. As a personal secretary, to be constantly available, he also had a room at the Songhu Hotel, directly across from Pei Songji’s. He had to be able to appear within five minutes if needed.
Although technically on call 24/7, he was still human and needed rest. Eleven p.m. was his designated downtime. Pei Songji rarely contacted him after that hour.
Even so, Jing Ciying habitually glanced at his waterproofed phone.
It was already eleven. Usually, Pei Songji would be finished with his bath and preparing for bed by now. He shouldn’t need anything else.
With that thought, Jing Ciying relaxed into his bath. He was exhausted after a long day, from early morning until just now, when he personally greeted Pei Songji at the airport and watched him enter his room.
It was eleven o’clock. Any decent boss wouldn’t bother him anymore…
“Ding.”
A crisp ringtone shattered the quiet.
Jing Ciying almost reflexively opened his eyes and checked his phone.
Pei “Skinflint” had just sent him a WeChat message.
[Pei Skinflint: One cup of coffee, Blue Mountain No. 1, freshly ground.]
Jing Ciying: “…”
Pei Songji was reviewing the next day’s data. This collaboration was somewhat unexpected, and some things weren’t fully prepared, hence the need for late-night coffee.
Although he knew it was a bit unreasonable at this hour, Pei Songji knew it wouldn’t be a problem for Jing Ciying. After all, Jing Ciying had always been his most efficient personal secretary, fulfilling every request punctually.
As expected, five minutes later, there was a knock.
Jing Ciying entered with a coffee, “Your coffee, Mr. Pei.”
“Good.”
Pei Songji responded casually, his eyes fixed on the computer. He took a sip and then, remembering Jing Ciying’s presence, looked up and started to say, “You…”
The coffee was hot and flowed down his throat unexpectedly, spreading warmth. He suddenly felt the urge to cough.
But Pei Songji wouldn’t do anything so impolite in front of someone else.
He suppressed the tickle in his throat, looked away, and returned his attention to the computer.
“You can go back. Get some rest.”
“Alright. You should rest too.”
Jing Ciying exited, and the room fell silent again. Perhaps from fatigue, the words on the screen began to blur. Pei Songji took another sip, trying to focus, but his mind wandered to the image of Jing Ciying just moments ago.
Jing Ciying had stood there, wearing his usual impeccably neat white shirt and black trousers.
But unlike usual, the shirt was damp.
He seemed to have just bathed; his clothes were immaculate, but his hair was still wet. Droplets fell from the ends of his hair, silently soaking into the milky white cotton shirt, creating small, transparent patches.
Pei Songji took another sip of coffee, his throat bobbing.
Jing Ciying always appeared before him perfectly put together.
This was the first time he’d seen him like this, almost… alluring.
Of course, after working together for so long, he knew this was impossible. He understood Jing Ciying’s personality: reserved and restrained, like an egg without a crack, always tightly enclosed within its shell.
But perhaps because late-night thoughts tended to wander, a voice suddenly echoed in his mind, “Even the coldest person will break their principles for someone they like, making a special effort.”
So…
Perhaps, with a tiny, one-in-ten-thousand chance, Secretary Jing had done this on purpose.
After all, Pei Songji had always known that Secretary Jing… liked him.
