Chapter 31
Jing Ciying didn’t end up paying for the drinks.
He didn’t even remember how he got home. He woke up the next morning in his own bed, his head pounding.
He slowly pieced together the events of the previous night. He had gone drinking with Pei Songji, shown him his bank balance, poured out his heart, and even asked him, “Did I do a good job?”
The memory mortified him. He covered his face with his hands, wanting to disappear.
He would block Pei Songji. He never wanted to see him again.
Despite the lingering embarrassment, he couldn’t let his personal life interfere with his work. He dragged himself out of bed, intending to get ready for work.
As he opened his bedroom door, the aroma of food greeted him.
He walked towards the dining room, surprised to see a table laden with breakfast, and Pei Songji sitting there, calmly eating.
He almost retreated back to his room, then forced himself to appear composed, sitting down at the table.
He rubbed his temples, feigning a hangover. “Mr. Pei, what are you doing here?”
Pei Songji, seemingly oblivious to his inner turmoil, replied casually, “You were drunk last night. I brought you home.”
“And then?” Jing Ciying wanted to know why he was still here.
Pei Songji understood. “You weren’t feeling well. I was worried, so I stayed.”
“Really? Where did you sleep?”
Pei Songji hesitated, then pointed behind him. “On the sofa.”
Jing Ciying glanced at his tiny sofa, then at Pei Songji, who was over six feet tall. He didn’t know what to say. “You’ve worked hard,” he finally muttered.
Pei Songji, looking slightly guilty, shook his head and served him a bowl of congee, changing the subject. “Eat something.”
“Okay.” Jing Ciying, mortified by the previous night’s events, ate silently, not noticing Pei Songji’s expression.
Pei Songji ate as well, his mind replaying the events of the previous night.
He hadn’t slept on the sofa, nor anywhere else. He hadn’t slept at all.
Jing Ciying had drunk himself into oblivion.
He had wanted to take him to his own house, but fearing Jing Ciying’s disapproval, he had brought him home.
He had never seen Jing Ciying so vulnerable, so unguarded.
He had clung to Pei Songji’s clothes like a frightened kitten, his grip tight, as if fearing he would be abandoned.
Pei Songji’s heart ached, but he also felt a strange sense of comfort, a bittersweet tenderness. Jing Ciying, usually so distant, was finally showing his true feelings.
He had walked slowly, savoring the moment, reluctant to let go.
He had put Jing Ciying to bed, fetched warm water, and clumsily wiped his face and hands.
Jing Ciying had been crying in his sleep, his tears silently streaming down his face. If Pei Songji hadn’t been wiping his face, he wouldn’t have noticed.
He had tried to dry his tears, but they kept coming.
Jing Ciying’s words echoed in his mind.
“You say you like me, but you don’t even know me.”
The words had struck him like lightning, illuminating the truth.
He had been so focused on the perfect, efficient, always-prepared secretary that he had forgotten Jing Ciying was a human being, with emotions, fears, vulnerabilities.
He had never seen Jing Ciying express any negative emotions before.
He had always been accommodating, always smiling, even when faced with unreasonable demands.
This was the first time he had seen Jing Ciying so unguarded, so emotionally raw.
He had never truly known him.
He had seen only the perfect facade, the flawless performance. Today, he had glimpsed the real Jing Ciying, sensitive and fragile.
Jing Ciying’s silent tears continued.
Pei Songji reached out to wipe them away, and a tear fell onto his hand, warm, burning his skin.
He instinctively curled his fingers, thinking perhaps he should be grateful for Jing Ciying’s resignation.
Otherwise, they would have remained trapped in their roles as boss and employee.
And he wanted more.
Jing Ciying continued crying, and Pei Songji, not knowing how to comfort him, had simply held him.
He had held him all night.
And wished he could hold him forever.
“Did you… make all this?” Jing Ciying’s voice brought him back to the present.
“I had it delivered,” Pei Songji admitted.
Jing Ciying gave him a knowing look. He shouldn’t have asked.
But Pei Songji felt a pang of guilt.
Jing Ciying must be feeling terrible after all that alcohol, so he had wanted to make him something warm and soothing.
But he had never cooked anything in his life, so after fumbling around in the kitchen for a while, he had given up and ordered breakfast from a nearby hotel, selecting all their signature dishes, unsure of Jing Ciying’s preferences.
The food had arrived quickly, filling the table.
But looking at the spread, he felt a sense of inadequacy.
Jing Ciying would have known exactly what he liked. But he knew nothing about Jing Ciying’s preferences.
He had worked with him for years, yet he had never bothered to truly get to know him.
No wonder Jing Ciying hadn’t believed his confession.
He wouldn’t have believed it himself.
No wonder Jing Ciying had said, “Even if our positions were reversed, you wouldn’t like me.”
Why would he?
What did he have to offer besides money?
He hoped it wasn’t too late to make amends.
He started observing Jing Ciying discreetly, trying to discern his preferences.
But Jing Ciying ate everything, seemingly without any strong dislikes.
“Why are you staring at me?” Jing Ciying asked, noticing his scrutiny.
“Nothing,” Pei Songji said casually. “You don’t seem like a picky eater.”
“You think I’m like you, Mr. Privileged?” Jing Ciying thought, but he simply replied, “I eat almost everything, except cilantro.”
“Anything you particularly like?”
“No,” Jing Ciying said, continuing to eat.
But Pei Songji, sensing an opening, continued his interrogation. “What’s your favorite thing to do?”
“Nothing.”
“Favorite job?”
“Nothing.”
“Favorite color?”
“Nothing.”
Jing Ciying’s repeated “nothing” silenced Pei Songji, who started eating as well, pretending not to notice Jing Ciying’s amusement.
Jing Ciying knew what he was doing.
He had been a personal secretary for years, deflecting countless inquiries about Pei Songji’s preferences. He was a master of evasion.
And Pei Songji’s questions were far too direct.
Pei Songji, seeing his resistance, gave up and focused on his food.
After breakfast, he offered to drive Jing Ciying to work.
Jing Ciying, running late, accepted the offer.
As they arrived, Jing Ciying was about to get out of the car when Pei Songji asked tentatively, “Should I pick you up tomorrow?”
Jing Ciying realized he was referring to the Lindai University event.
“No, thank you. I’ll go myself.”
He expected Pei Songji to argue, but he agreed readily. “Okay.”
He was surprised by his easy compliance but didn’t comment, getting out of the car.
As he was about to say goodbye, Pei Songji asked another random question. “Do you like cats or dogs?”
“What?”
“Never mind. I know now,” Pei Songji said.
Jing Ciying was baffled. Know what? he wanted to ask.
But Pei Songji drove away without giving him a chance.
Jing Ciying: “…”
He shrugged it off. He was almost late for work.
The next day was Saturday.
He woke up later than usual, having no work.
He had toast for breakfast, something he had bought on his way home from work the previous night.
Lately, perhaps due to irregular meals and the recent drinking incident, he had been feeling unwell, so he had been forcing himself to eat three meals a day.
The toast was stale, and he barely managed a few bites.
But he forced himself to finish it, then got ready to leave.
As he opened the door, he saw Pei Songji standing there.
He instantly knew why he was there. “Mr. Pei…” he said, his voice laced with annoyance.
But Pei Songji, seemingly oblivious to his displeasure, smiled and said, “Good morning.”
Jing Ciying couldn’t be rude. “What are you doing here?” he asked, knowing the answer.
He expected Pei Songji to say he was here to take him to Lindai University, but Pei Songji revealed a small, white kitten he had been hiding behind his back.
It was a Ragdoll kitten, barely a few weeks old, yet already incredibly beautiful, like a delicate porcelain figurine.
The kitten, unafraid of strangers, stretched and reached out to Jing Ciying, mewing softly.
Jing Ciying’s heart melted. He instinctively reached out to hold the kitten, which immediately flopped onto its back, exposing its fluffy belly.
He was smitten. He knew this was a calculated move, but he couldn’t resist.
This was his kitten.
“Mr. Pei, what… what is this?” he stammered, looking at Pei Songji.
Pei Songji smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Is it… for me?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.
“Yes,” Pei Songji nodded.
“Why?”
“Because…” he paused, his voice teasing, “you said you had money to burn. This little one can help you with that.”
Jing Ciying cringed, remembering his drunken words. He quickly changed the subject. “How did you know I liked cats?”
He hadn’t answered Pei Songji’s question the other night. He had assumed Pei Songji was bluffing.
“Your eyes lit up when I mentioned cats.”
Jing Ciying was surprised. Had he been that obvious? He would have to check his expressions in the mirror later.
His happiness softened his feelings towards Pei Songji.
But he couldn’t accept such a generous gift without offering something in return. He knew Ragdoll kittens were expensive. “How much is it?”
Pei Songji, anticipating his question, said, “It’s a gift.”
“No, I can’t accept such an expensive gift.”
Pei Songji seemed prepared for his refusal. “If you insist on repaying me, then grant me a favor.”
“What kind of favor?” he asked hesitantly. “Nothing too outrageous.”
“Don’t worry. It’s a simple request.”
Pei Songji pulled out his car keys and dangled them playfully.
“I’m also going to Lindai University. Would you do me the honor of accepting a ride?”
