Chapter 18
Pei Songji’s world had been turned upside down.
The reason was unclear, but in a single instant, everything he thought he knew had been shattered.
Even after leaving the restaurant and returning to the car, he couldn’t shake the feeling of disorientation.
His distress must have been evident because Jing Ciying kept asking, “Mr. Pei, are you alright? Are you feeling unwell? Should we go to the hospital?”
Normally, he would have responded, but tonight, he couldn’t even bring himself to look at Jing Ciying.
He was afraid of seeing what he had seen at the dinner table.
Jing Ciying hadn’t said a word, just looked at him with concern, yet he had heard Jing Ciying’s voice, not from his mouth, but… in his head.
Had he heard Jing Ciying’s… thoughts?
It was impossible. This wasn’t a science fiction movie.
How could one person hear another person’s thoughts?
Unless…
He remembered a movie he had seen as a child, The Truman Show, about a man whose entire life was a televised reality show.
He had been so young when he saw it that it had filled him with a sense of unease and paranoia, making him question his own reality.
His mother, seeing his distress, had laughed and then taken him on a trip around the world, reassuring him that his life was real.
Now, that same sense of unreality returned, overwhelming him.
He must be drunk, he thought, rubbing his temples.
“Mr. Pei, are you alright?” Jing Ciying’s voice came again.
He was about to answer when he heard another voice, also Jing Ciying’s, but saying something Jing Ciying would never say to him directly. “Hey, I’m talking to you! Are you deaf? How many times do I have to call you?”
He gathered his courage and turned to see Jing Ciying looking at him with concern.
“I’m fine,” he managed to say, his voice strained.
“Are you sure? You don’t look well.”
“I’m fine. Bad things happen to bad people. Bosses have nine lives.”
He was certain Jing Ciying had only spoken the first sentence, but he had clearly heard the second one as well, in Jing Ciying’s voice, inside his head.
His carefully constructed composure crumbled.
If he wasn’t drunk, then he must be ill. This was insane!
“To the hospital.” He usually called his family doctor, but this was beyond his comprehension. Only a hospital could offer some reassurance. “To the hospital, now,” he told the driver.
“Mr. Pei, why are we going to the hospital? What’s wrong?”
“Overtime, overtime, overtime… it never ends.”
Two voices again.
The world seemed to be tilting on its axis. He took a deep breath, trying to remain calm.
“I’ll have the driver take you home first, then I’ll go to the hospital,” he told Jing Ciying.
Jing Ciying: ?
What was going on?
He didn’t understand, but Pei Songji clearly wasn’t well. And since he was already working overtime, a few extra minutes wouldn’t make a difference.
“It’s alright, Mr. Pei. Your health is more important. Let’s go to the hospital first. What’s wrong?”
Pei Songji didn’t know how to answer. He couldn’t tell him he was hearing voices, Jing Ciying’s thoughts.
He would end up in the psychiatric ward, not the emergency room.
“I have a headache,” he said vaguely.
“Okay, just relax. The hospital is nearby,” Jing Ciying reassured him.
“Yes,” Pei Songji replied.
The car fell silent.
The two voices in his head disappeared.
But he remained wary, turning to look at Jing Ciying.
Jing Ciying was lost in thought. That’s why it was quiet.
He wanted to test his theory, to see if Jing Ciying was simply not thinking anything at the moment, or if the hallucinations had stopped.
But then he realized, as absurd as this was, it was also an opportunity. If he could truly hear Jing Ciying’s thoughts, he could finally understand his feelings. Although he knew Jing Ciying liked him, he didn’t know the extent of his affection.
But asking him directly would be awkward and inappropriate.
He couldn’t think of a good excuse, so he resorted to the usual nosy relative approach. “Secretary Jing.”
Jing Ciying snapped to attention. “Yes, Mr. Pei?”
“Are you married?”
Jing Ciying: ?
Didn’t he know?
Had he ever taken leave for a honeymoon?
He assumed Pei Songji was still drunk and answered patiently, “No, sir.”
“Are you… considering marriage?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
Why not? There were countless reasons: his sister, his financial situation, his lack of assets. He was in no position to get married.
But he couldn’t tell Pei Songji that. He chose a safe, neutral answer.
“I haven’t met the right person yet.”
“Haven’t met anyone you like?” Pei Songji’s voice rose slightly.
Jing Ciying didn’t understand why he had replaced “right person” with “like,” but it wasn’t wrong. He nodded. “Yes, I haven’t met anyone I like.”
Pei Songji’s heart sank.
How could he not like anyone? Didn’t he like him? Impossible. He must be too shy to admit it, Pei Songji reasoned.
But then Jing Ciying’s next thought shattered his hopes.
“Mr. Pei is acting strange tonight.”
“Why is he asking me this? Is he going to set me up with someone?”
Wait, someone? Pei Songji caught the implication.
Why “someone”? Wasn’t he a man?
But…
Then what about…
He closed his eyes, his head pounding.
A sense of unease settled in his stomach.
“Do you like… women?” he asked.
Jing Ciying was now convinced Pei Songji’s discomfort was due to the alcohol. He must have a fever.
If not women, then men?
The thought amused him, but then, considering the context, a startling possibility emerged.
He looked at Pei Songji, who was staring at him with a dazed expression, his usual composure replaced by a strange vulnerability.
“Mr. Pei?” he asked cautiously. “Don’t you like women?”
“Of course I like women,” Pei Songji said defensively, like a punctured balloon.
“Of course,” Jing Ciying thought.
After all, he had just been on a blind date.
He didn’t know the turmoil in Pei Songji’s mind.
The question had triggered a wave of confusion. He had been “normal” once, considering a conventional marriage. But when had his heart become fixated on Jing Ciying?
No, his preference for women wasn’t the issue. The issue was Jing Ciying’s apparent preference for women.
So, Jing Ciying truly didn’t like him?
Pei Songji’s mind was a mess.
He couldn’t distinguish reality from hallucination.
He must be more than just hearing voices.
He must be poisoned.
This couldn’t be real.
Jing Ciying couldn’t possibly not like him.
This must be a dream.
“Mr. Pei, we’re here,” Jing Ciying’s voice said.
He realized they had arrived at the hospital.
Jing Ciying had already gotten out of the car and was helping him out.
He was such an efficient secretary.
He had even registered him while he was still disoriented. Fortunately, the emergency room wasn’t busy.
The doctor, a middle-aged man, asked, “What seems to be the problem?”
“He has a headache,” Jing Ciying answered for him.
“A headache?” The doctor looked at Pei Songji. “Can you describe the pain?”
Jing Ciying couldn’t answer that, so they both looked at Pei Songji.
Pei Songji, under their scrutiny, finally focused. He glanced at Jing Ciying.
Jing Ciying’s eyes were filled with concern, yet his thoughts were…
“Oh dear, the boss has lost his mind.”
Pei Songji: “…”
“Please wait outside,” he said to Jing Ciying.
Although confused, Jing Ciying complied, considerately closing the door behind him.
“Now, tell me, what’s wrong?” the doctor asked, his tone relaxed.
Although Pei Songji still felt this was beyond the realm of medical science, he couldn’t hide his symptoms. “I think I can hear people’s thoughts.”
“Really?” The doctor raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with amusement. “How fascinating.”
Pei Songji knew he didn’t believe him, but he understood. It had taken him a while to accept it himself.
“It’s true.”
“Then tell me, what am I thinking right now?”
Pei Songji: “…”
Although he didn’t appreciate the doctor’s skepticism, he understood the test. He concentrated, trying to hear the doctor’s thoughts.
Nothing.
“I can’t hear your thoughts.”
The doctor wasn’t surprised. “Whose thoughts can you hear?”
Pei Songji pointed towards the door, indicating the person who had just left.
The doctor nodded, typing on his computer. “What did you hear?”
Pei Songji hesitated, recalling the thoughts he had heard. They were too personal to share.
“Do I have to tell you?”
“Not necessarily. Just curious,” the doctor replied.
Pei Songji: “…”
“Alright, enough jokes. Any history of mental illness?” the doctor asked, his tone serious now.
Pei Songji knew he suspected a psychiatric issue.
He wasn’t offended. He had questioned his own sanity earlier.
“No.”
“Any recent trauma, setbacks, or extreme stress?”
“No.”
“Okay. What have you eaten recently?”
Pei Songji recounted his meals, describing the dinner in detail. It had been a lavish affair, with rare and exotic dishes.
He hadn’t eaten much, lacking appetite, except for a particular mushroom dish, which he had enjoyed.
“Mushrooms?” The doctor’s fingers flew across the keyboard.
“You’re probably experiencing mushroom poisoning. We need to pump your stomach.”
“Poisoning?”
“Yes. It’s quite common. Hearing voices is a typical symptom. I had a patient who claimed his dog told him it was pregnant.”
Pei Songji: “…”
“Go get your stomach pumped, then we’ll start an IV. You should be fine soon.”
The doctor instructed him to go to the billing department.
Pei Songji thanked him and stepped out of the room to find Jing Ciying waiting.
“Mr. Pei, how is it? Is it serious?” Jing Ciying asked, his voice filled with concern.
Pei Songji looked into his eyes, seeing genuine worry.
He started to doubt everything he had experienced. Perhaps it was just a hallucination caused by the poisoning.
Jing Ciying couldn’t possibly not like him.
Just as he couldn’t possibly not like Jing Ciying.
“It’s nothing serious,” he said, still shaken. “Mushroom poisoning. The doctor recommends a stomach pump.”
“Poisoning?!” Jing Ciying was alarmed. Was this corporate sabotage? Had someone tried to poison Pei Songji?
“How did you get poisoned? Should we call the police?”
“No,” Pei Songji quickly clarified. “It wasn’t intentional. It seems to be from the wild mushrooms.”
“Wild mushrooms?” Jing Ciying recalled the dish.
He had eaten it too. Why was he fine? Perhaps because he had only had a small portion.
He knew this wasn’t the time to dwell on it.
He quickly paid the bill and accompanied Pei Songji for the stomach pump.
The procedure was unpleasant, and by the time it was over and the IV drip started, it was past midnight. Pei Songji looked pale and exhausted.
Jing Ciying sat beside him, offering silent support.
“Sorry to make you work overtime again,” Pei Songji said.
Jing Ciying glanced outside. The sky was still dark. The sun hadn’t risen in the west.
“What are you looking at?”
“Nothing,” he replied quickly.
But Pei Songji heard another thought. “The sun must be rising in the west today.”
Pei Songji: “…”
Perhaps some distance was indeed necessary. Too much closeness could be detrimental.
“You can take Monday off,” he offered, fearing another sarcastic remark.
Jing Ciying’s face lit up. “Thank you, Mr. Pei!” he said quickly, not wanting him to change his mind.
“You’re welcome.”
The extra day off revived Jing Ciying’s spirits, and he became more attentive.
“Mr. Pei, how did you realize you were poisoned?”
Pei Songji looked at him, falling silent.
How could he explain?
He couldn’t tell him he had been hearing his sarcastic thoughts.
He listed the usual symptoms: “Dizziness, nausea, vomiting.”
Jing Ciying mentally checked the symptoms. He hadn’t experienced any of them. The small portion he had eaten must have saved him.
“I’ll be more careful in the future. I won’t let any mushrooms near you again.”
Pei Songji, still trying to determine whether the voices he had heard were real, simply replied, “Yes.”
They fell silent.
Jing Ciying was getting sleepy. Pei Songji was still pondering the events of the evening. If it was just poisoning, not a genuine ability to hear thoughts, then what he had heard might not be true. Jing Ciying might not actually dislike him. But how could he confirm his suspicions?
“Secretary Jing,” he said after a while.
“Yes, sir?”
“How long have you worked for me?”
“Six years.”
“Six years. So you’re twenty-eight now.”
“Yes.”
“You should be thinking about settling down.”
Jing Ciying didn’t understand Pei Songji’s sudden interest in his marital status. He had never asked before, just issued commands.
He must still be feeling the effects of the poisoning. He answered patiently, “It’s not that easy.”
“What kind of person are you looking for? I can introduce you to someone.”
“No, thank you, Mr. Pei.”
“I’m serious. I’d be happy to.”
Jing Ciying fell silent, convinced Pei Songji was still delirious.
He had never shown such concern before.
But he humored him. He didn’t believe Pei Songji would actually introduce him to anyone.
Pei Songji’s social circle consisted of sophisticated ladies; none of them would be interested in him.
“I don’t have any specific requirements. As long as they don’t mind me, that’s enough.”
“Just that? What about appearance?”
“Appearance… someone tall, fair-skinned, preferably with long hair.”
Pei Songji’s hopes dwindled, but he wasn’t ready to give up. “A woman with long hair?”
Jing Ciying: ?
“Men don’t usually have long hair.”
“So you prefer women.”
The statement sounded odd, but Jing Ciying nodded. “Mr. Pei, are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Pei Songji said, shaking his head. “I’m just…”
“Just what?”
“Still feeling the effects of the poisoning.”
Jing Ciying: “…”
Jing Ciying assumed Pei Songji would have fully recovered after three days.
He was known for his resilience.
During the company’s most challenging year, Pei Songji had undergone surgery and returned to work within a week.
A little mushroom poisoning shouldn’t be a big deal.
But when he returned to work on Tuesday, Pei Songji looked worse than he had after his surgery.
His face was pale, he had lost weight, and he looked alarmingly frail.
“Mr. Pei,” Jing Ciying said, alarmed. “Are you still unwell?”
Pei Songji insisted he was fine, but his appearance contradicted his words.
Jing Ciying tried to persuade him to rest, but he was adamant.
He could only try to make him as comfortable as possible.
He replaced his usual coffee with Pu’er tea and prepared a light lunch.
But Pei Songji barely ate.
Jing Ciying was worried. He brought him some nuts and snacks, but he didn’t touch them.
He wanted to urge him to go home and rest, but as a personal secretary, he couldn’t overstep his boundaries.
By the evening, seeing Pei Songji still hadn’t eaten anything, he couldn’t help but say, “Mr. Pei, you need to eat something. You’ll get sick.”
Pei Songji finally looked at him, his attention diverted from his work.
But his response wasn’t about food. “Are you concerned about me?”
Jing Ciying didn’t understand his strange questions.
He was his personal secretary; of course he was concerned.
“Of course I am,” he replied without hesitation.
A flicker of hope ignited in Pei Songji’s heart.
During Jing Ciying’s absence, he had gone through several stages of emotional turmoil.
From the initial shock and disbelief at hearing “thoughts” to the forced calmness of accepting it as a symptom of poisoning.
But he couldn’t shake the memory of Jing Ciying’s words, the apparent indifference revealed through those “thoughts.”
He didn’t like him.
The realization had shattered his hopes, disrupting his carefully laid plans.
He had been ready to confess his feelings, only to discover Jing Ciying’s preference for women.
Had those encounters in college truly been just coincidences? Had he never felt anything? Had he been delusional all along?
He couldn’t believe it.
He had always thought he was the one who had fallen first.
But he had assumed their feelings were mutual, not a one-sided infatuation.
It was difficult to let go of a long-held belief, so he clung to a sliver of hope.
Surely Jing Ciying cared about him, even a little.
But then Jing Ciying’s next “thought” extinguished that hope.
“If something happens to him, who’s going to pay my salary?”
Pei Songji: “…”
He was going insane.
He knew it was a hallucination, but it made a disturbing amount of sense.
If Jing Ciying didn’t like him, then his concern would indeed be purely transactional.
“Mr. Pei…” Jing Ciying said, seeing his sudden silence, his worry increasing.
Pei Songji had been acting very strange lately. Was poisoning really that serious?
“I’m fine,” Pei Songji said, a wave of inexplicable anger washing over him.
He didn’t want to hear any more of Jing Ciying’s thoughts.
“Please leave,” he said, waving him away.
“Mr. Pei…” Jing Ciying was worried, but he couldn’t do anything. He left the office.
Pei Songji didn’t feel any better. His stomach started to ache.
They said the stomach was an emotional organ. He understood the reason for his discomfort.
He had been miserable these past few days.
His physical discomfort had affected his work, and he was still in the office long after working hours.
Jing Ciying knew he didn’t like to be disturbed while working, but he was worried. He knocked on the door.
“Enter,” a weak voice called out.
He opened the door and saw Pei Songji still at his desk, his left hand clutching his stomach, his face pale.
“What is it?” Pei Songji asked.
“Mr. Pei, it’s 8:00 pm. Shouldn’t you eat something?”
Pei Songji glanced at his watch.
“I’ll eat later. I’m almost finished. Make me a cup of coffee.”
Jing Ciying was appalled by his self-destructive behavior, but he knew it was pointless to argue. He brewed a cup of coffee and brought it in.
Pei Songji, surprisingly, dismissed him after that, telling him to go home.
Normally, he would have left immediately, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Pei Songji in such a state. He decided to wait.
He waited until past midnight.
Unable to wait any longer, he returned to Pei Songji’s office, knocking on the door.
There was no response.
A sense of dread filled him. He opened the door and saw Pei Songji slumped in his chair, his hand clutching his stomach, his eyes closed.
“Mr. Pei!” he rushed forward. “What’s wrong?”
Pei Songji opened his eyes, seeing Jing Ciying’s worried expression.
“Nothing. Just needed a break,” he said, knowing how unconvincing he sounded.
“Let me take you home. I’ll call Dr. Zhao,” Jing Ciying said.
Dr. Zhao was the Pei family’s private physician.
“Okay.” Pei Songji stood up, leaning on Jing Ciying for support.
The doctor was already waiting when they arrived.
After a quick examination, he concluded, “Chronic gastritis. I’ll prescribe some medication. Get some rest tonight, and make sure you eat properly these next few days. Keep it light.”
“I understand,” Jing Ciying said before Pei Songji could respond.
After the doctor left, Jing Ciying prepared the medication and stayed with Pei Songji until he fell asleep.
Pei Songji had endured many hardships during the company’s difficult period, weathering countless storms, but those days hadn’t been as difficult as these past three days.
Why?
He looked at Jing Ciying, who was sitting beside him.
He had replayed every interaction with Jing Ciying, every encounter.
He realized he had been delusional.
Those chance meetings in college might have truly been just that, coincidences.
Jing Ciying hadn’t shown any clear signs of affection since becoming his secretary.
Despite the overwhelming evidence, he still couldn’t believe it.
Or rather, he didn’t want to believe it.
Did Jing Ciying truly not care about him at all?
Not even a little?
“Mr. Pei, you should get some rest. It’s late. You need to take care of yourself,” Jing Ciying’s voice said.
A warmth spread through Pei Songji’s heart. Jing Ciying had been with him for six years, through thick and thin, witnessing the company’s struggles and its eventual success.
They shared a history, even if it wasn’t romantic.
He did care about him.
Then he heard that damned “voice” again.
“Please go to sleep. I’m exhausted.”
Pei Songji: “…”
He couldn’t tell if it was a hallucination or Jing Ciying’s genuine thoughts.
He couldn’t ask. It would drive him crazy.
“It’s late. You should go home,” he said, knowing it was inappropriate to keep him here.
“Okay,” Jing Ciying agreed readily. He had done enough. Pei Songji wasn’t a child; he didn’t need to stay until he fell asleep.
As he was leaving, Pei Songji stopped him. “Wait.”
Jing Ciying paused, expecting another instruction.
“It’s too late. Stay in the guest room tonight.”
Jing Ciying was stunned.
Pei Songji was obsessed with cleanliness and personal boundaries. He never allowed anyone to stay overnight, except for that one accidental incident.
He had stayed late with Pei Songji countless times, but this was the first time he had been offered a room.
“No thank you, Mr. Pei,” he declined.
But Pei Songji insisted, asking the housekeeper to prepare a guest room and find him some pajamas.
Jing Ciying, exhausted, finally agreed.
He went to the guest room and fell asleep instantly, but his internal clock woke him up at 6:00 am.
He showered and was about to go home to change when he saw Pei Songji in the living room.
“You’re awake?” Pei Songji looked much better after a good night’s sleep.
“Yes, Mr. Pei.”
He was about to tell Pei Songji he was going home to change when Pei Songji led him to the dining room. “Let’s have breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry. I need to go home and change,” Jing Ciying said, worried about being late for work.
“There’s no rush. Eat first.”
“Okay…”
He couldn’t refuse.
The housekeeper had prepared a light breakfast, as instructed by Dr. Zhao.
After breakfast, Pei Songji had his driver take Jing Ciying home. The car stopped a short distance from his apartment, as usual.
Jing Ciying thanked him and was about to leave when Pei Songji said, “I’ll wait for you here.”
He was surprised. He had assumed Pei Songji would leave immediately.
But changing clothes would only take a few minutes. It wasn’t unreasonable for him to wait.
He thanked him again and hurried home.
Pei Songji watched him through the car window.
The medication and a good night’s sleep had worked wonders. He felt much better, the lingering discomfort gone.
He felt refreshed and energized.
But something still felt… off. He couldn’t quite place it.
As they drove to the office, the silence in the car finally revealed the source of his unease.
He couldn’t hear Jing Ciying’s “thoughts” anymore.
The voice that had been plaguing him for days was gone. The toxins must have finally cleared.
But he wasn’t as happy as he had expected. He had become strangely accustomed to Jing Ciying’s internal monologue, even the sarcastic remarks.
But it was a good thing.
Who could bear to hear their loved one constantly criticizing them in their head?
Life returned to normal.
But perhaps it was too normal. He almost missed the days when he could hear Jing Ciying’s “thoughts.”
It had been… entertaining.
He must have been severely poisoned.
Jing Ciying had taken the poisoning incident seriously. Since then, mushrooms had vanished from Pei Songji’s diet.
But today, Pei Songji suddenly requested the same wild mushroom dish he had eaten that night.
Jing Ciying: ?
“Are you sure, Mr. Pei?”
“Yes,” Pei Songji replied calmly, offering no explanation. He didn’t understand his own craving, so he couldn’t explain it.
Jing Ciying assumed it was a lingering effect of the poisoning, affecting his brain.
But he couldn’t refuse a direct order. He contacted the restaurant, ordered the dish, and had it delivered.
That evening, the same wild mushroom dish that had caused the poisoning appeared on Pei Songji’s table.
Jing Ciying had assumed a normal person would avoid such things after such an experience, but Pei Songji picked up his chopsticks without hesitation.
“Mr. Pei,” Jing Ciying couldn’t help but say, “if you like wild mushrooms that much, why don’t we go to Yunnan?”
“Why?” Pei Songji asked, curious.
“They’re fresher there, and the locals are more experienced in treating mushroom poisoning,” Jing Ciying explained.
Pei Songji: “…”
It was a valid point, but it was too late.
He was already poisoned, terminally so, beyond any cure.
Otherwise, why would he have clung to the delusion of Jing Ciying’s affection, and why, after discovering the truth, was his first instinct not to cut his losses, but to continue?
Continue what?
Jing Ciying didn’t like him.
He had thought the biggest obstacles to their relationship would be his family and the company’s disapproval.
But now he realized the real obstacle was Jing Ciying’s life plan, which didn’t include him.
He wanted to marry a woman.
He probably envisioned a simple life, a conventional marriage.
That had been Pei Songji’s vision as well, having witnessed his parents’ loving relationship.
Until he met Jing Ciying.
Now, all his hopes and dreams revolved around him.
He should cut his losses.
His grandfather had taught him that, the first rule of business, a principle he had always lived by.
The best solution was to withdraw his affections before Jing Ciying found out, before he confessed and made a fool of himself.
He should be cold and distant, push him away, transfer him to a different department, sever the connection.
But he couldn’t.
He couldn’t bear it.
He had fallen first.
And the one who falls first is always the loser.
He finished the entire plate of mushrooms, but he didn’t hear any voices.
Perhaps that night had truly been just a strange incident, a hallucination, not a glimpse into Jing Ciying’s thoughts.
It had been a wake-up call, revealing the truth of his one-sided affection.
What should he do now?
His carefully laid plans were useless. The premise had changed.
He had to re-evaluate his relationship with Jing Ciying.
But he didn’t know where to begin. He turned to his most experienced friend for advice.
“What’s up?” Chu Yang said, grabbing a bottle of wine from the cellar as soon as he arrived, pouring himself a glass and sitting down.
“I have a question for you.”
“Let me guess,” Chu Yang said, rolling his eyes. “You only remember your friends when you have problems.”
Pei Songji ignored him, trying to formulate his question.
But Chu Yang had already guessed. “Still about your love life?”
“Yes.”
“You’re serious about this? I thought you had decided to give up. Changed your mind?”
“Yes.”
“Fair enough. Finding someone you like isn’t easy. Giving up just because of gender seems like a waste.”
Pei Songji nodded silently.
“So, what’s the problem? I thought you had it all figured out.”
“He doesn’t like me,” Pei Songji sighed.
“Doesn’t like you? I thought he was head over heels for you.”
Pei Songji: “…”
How could he explain it was a misunderstanding?
Fortunately, Chu Yang knew him too well.
“He doesn’t like you?” he repeated, understanding dawning on his face.
Pei Songji almost stormed out, but he restrained himself.
Chu Yang burst out laughing. “What happened? I thought you two were almost a thing. Why doesn’t he like you anymore?”
“It was a misunderstanding.”
“A big one, apparently.”
Pei Songji ignored the sarcasm. “What should I do?”
“It’s simple,” Chu Yang said after a moment of thought. “Ask yourself, do you like him?”
“Yes.”
“Are you afraid of losing him?”
“Yes,” Pei Songji admitted, a pang of pain echoing in his chest.
Chu Yang nodded, understanding. “Then pursue him.”
“Pursue him?”
“Yes! Chase him!”
Pei Songji fell silent. He had always been the one being pursued.
Even after realizing his feelings for Jing Ciying, he had assumed their feelings were mutual, that a simple confession would suffice.
But now, he had to pursue Jing Ciying.
He pictured Jing Ciying in his mind.
It wasn’t impossible.
But…
How did one pursue someone like Secretary Jing?
