Chapter 6
Jing Ciying was oblivious to Pei Songji’s inner turmoil. All he wanted was to get him home and then crawl into bed. He was exhausted.
But Pei Songji lived far away, and by the time they arrived, it was almost 1:00 am.
Fortunately, Pei Songji hadn’t completely lost his conscience. He arranged for his driver to take Jing Ciying home.
As they parted, he added, “Sorry about tonight. You can have another day off.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pei. I’ll be back at work on Tuesday,” Jing Ciying replied.
“No, Thursday,” Pei Songji corrected him.
“Thursday?” It dawned on Jing Ciying that his leave didn’t include the weekend.
He was overjoyed, the resentment from being dragged out in the middle of the night evaporating instantly. He even felt a flicker of warmth towards Pei Songji.
For the first time, he offered a sincere “Thank you, boss.”
With several unexpected days off, Jing Ciying was delighted. He cherished this rare opportunity to spend time with his sister, dedicating every moment to her at the hospital.
Aunt Liu, seeing his dedication, felt heartsore for him. “Xiaoying, take advantage of your time off. Go out, relax. I’m here at the hospital; you don’t have to worry.”
Jing Ciying appreciated her concern but declined, urging her to rest instead. “Thank you, Aunt Liu. But I rarely have time to visit. Now that I have a few days off, I want to be with my sister. You’re here every day; you’re the one who needs rest. I’ll be here these next two days, so please go home and relax.”
They both cared for each other, neither willing to accept the other’s offer.
Finally, Aunt Liu conceded. “Alright, you stay here. I’ll go home and make you some pork rib soup to nourish you.”
Jing Ciying, having known Aunt Liu for years, knew she was sincere and didn’t refuse. “Thank you, Aunt Liu.”
After she left, Jing Ciying was alone with his sister.
Although seemingly low-maintenance, coma patients required significant care.
Daily massages and cleaning were essential to prevent bedsores and muscle atrophy.
After skillfully massaging Jing Cijun, he began feeding her with a syringe.
Then, he gently wiped her hands and face with a warm cloth. He noticed her nails were long and started trimming them.
Midway through, he saw her finger twitch.
He smiled. “Sis, do you want to communicate with me?”
As he spoke, Jing Cijun’s fingers slowly curled into an “ok” sign.
“Great! If you can hear me, can you give me a thumbs-up?”
Jing Cijun slowly raised her thumb.
“Now, can you show me two fingers?”
She complied.
“Sis, now show me three.”
“Four.”
“Five.”
At five, her hand opened fully. Jing Ciying placed his hand in hers, and she slowly closed her fingers, gripping his hand tightly.
A wave of emotion washed over him, but he maintained a cheerful facade. “My sister is so amazing!”
“You’re recovering so well. At this rate, you’ll wake up soon.”
Before his sister’s accident, he had imagined coma patients as motionless figures, like in movies.
But he had learned differently.
They did react. They opened and closed their eyes, responded to commands. They just couldn’t wake up.
Initially, her slightest movements filled him with hope, expecting her to miraculously awaken.
But his hopes were repeatedly dashed, leading to despair.
His sister was trapped, and he was helpless.
But he couldn’t give up hope.
Because Jing Cijun, lying in that bed, must be even more despairing.
He had researched extensively, discovering that coma patients weren’t entirely unaware. Some could even hear conversations. He always spoke positively in front of her.
“My boss must be possessed. He gave me three days off, so I finally have time to visit you.”
“I know what you’re wondering. Work is fine. It’s busy, but the pay is good. Once you wake up, I’ll work hard for a few more years, and we can buy a small apartment here. We can settle down. It doesn’t matter how much I earn, as long as we have enough. As long as we’re together and safe, nothing else matters.”
“That’s what Mom and Dad would want, too. We can visit them often when we’re closer.”
He felt his sister’s hand twitch, realizing he had said something he shouldn’t have. He quickly changed the subject. “Oh, Aunt called the other day, asking about Ruoruo’s studies. She’s struggling in middle school, and Aunt doesn’t know what to do. She wanted me to talk to her, but you know I’m not good with advice. You can talk to her when you wake up. You’re both girls; you’ll have more in common.”
“Aunt also said she’ll visit during the New Year and bring us some gifts. Even though Mom and Dad are gone, people still care about us.”
He remembered something, pulling a lipstick from his pocket and placing it in Jing Cijun’s hand.
“I saw this at the mall and thought it would suit you. You can use it when you wake up.”
Since their parents’ death, their lives had been difficult. During the years when she should have been exploring her femininity, Jing Cijun had no time for such things. Only when she started working did she buy makeup and learn to use it.
He had bought her a cheap lipstick as a gift when she started her job. She had treasured it for years.
Now, he could finally afford better lipstick, but she couldn’t use it.
Despite his efforts at composure, he always faltered in front of his sister. Fearing she might sense his sadness, he excused himself to the restroom, escaping to the stairwell to release his emotions.
He didn’t cry. He had cried too much in the past and had no more tears left. Only a deep, aching sadness remained.
He didn’t want her to hear his pain, so he retreated to process his emotions before returning.
As he stood there, lost in thought, he heard footsteps behind him.
He turned to see a familiar face, Ji Shuhuai, the relative of the patient in the next room.
“You too,” Ji Shuhuai said with a sad smile.
Although their loved ones were in comas, unable to hear, they both instinctively avoided expressing their emotions in the rooms, retreating to the stairwell.
That’s how they had met.
“Yeah, I’m on leave, so I came to visit my sister,” Jing Ciying replied.
Ji Shuhuai chuckled, pulling out a cigarette but not lighting it, just twirling it between his fingers.
“That skinflint boss of yours actually gave you time off?”
Jing Ciying hadn’t meant to badmouth Pei Songji, but it was hard to speak of one’s boss without some resentment.
“He must be possessed. Suddenly decided to be nice,” Jing Ciying said.
Ji Shuhuai laughed, his shoulders shaking slightly despite his efforts to contain it.
Jing Ciying looked at him curiously. Coma recovery was a long and expensive process, especially in VIP wards, so those who could afford it were usually wealthy. Having worked for Pei Songji, Jing Ciying had become adept at assessing wealth based on clothing. He knew Ji Shuhuai was well-off.
He seemed to be a successful businessman, but their acquaintance wasn’t deep enough for Jing Ciying to know more.
“You’re a boss too. I’m sure your employees talk about you behind your back,” Jing Ciying joked.
Ji Shuhuai shrugged. “Behind my back? Some say it to my face. They call me a skinflint, an old bastard.”
Jing Ciying was stunned. Such bold employees?
Truly role models, modern-day heroes.
“Who?” he asked, curious.
Ji Shuhuai gestured towards the ward and muttered, “Little rascal.”
Jing Ciying’s teasing stopped abruptly.
The patients on this floor were long-term residents, so they knew a bit about each other.
The patient next to his sister was a young man.
Jing Ciying had glimpsed him once while delivering something. He lay quietly, like his sister, with dark brown hair framing a round face, fair skin, and sharp features. A few freckles dusted his cheeks, and his long lashes fluttered with each breath, as if he might wake up any moment.
He was beautiful, like an angel in a medieval painting.
Jing Ciying had initially thought he was mixed-race but later learned he wasn’t. He was simply strikingly handsome.
He had once shared his impression with Ji Shuhuai.
Ji Shuhuai had laughed. “You’ve been fooled by his looks. Angel? He’s a little rascal.” But then, a wistful expression crossed his face, a mixture of reminiscence and melancholy. “You’re not the first to be deceived. I was too. His face is too deceiving. He can fool anyone he wants.”
Although they sometimes chatted, they rarely discussed their families.
Jing Ciying only knew that the young man was supposedly Ji Shuhuai’s nephew.
But Ji Shuhuai’s demeanor suggested a deeper connection, more like a lover than a relative.
Jing Ciying didn’t want to pry.
But today, Ji Shuhuai seemed unusually inclined to share. As if reading his thoughts, he continued, “He’s not my nephew. We’re not related by blood.”
Jing Ciying simply nodded, understanding that what followed would be a private, perhaps painful, story.
“His father and I were friends, close friends for many years. When something happened to his father, he entrusted his son to my care. He rarely asked me for anything, so I couldn’t refuse.”
Ji Shuhuai seemed agitated, his grip tightening on the cigarette, snapping it in half.
“But I later realized I shouldn’t have agreed.”
“Why?” Jing Ciying asked, a suspicion forming in his mind, but he couldn’t quite believe it.
Because…
Ji Shuhuai, as if anticipating his question, nodded, confirming his suspicion. “It’s exactly what you’re thinking. I don’t know when he started liking me. After his eighteenth birthday, right after graduating high school, he confessed, saying he wanted to be with me forever.”
A bitter smile touched Ji Shuhuai’s lips.
Jing Ciying almost couldn’t bear to hear more. Even as an outsider, the situation seemed absurd. He couldn’t imagine how Ji Shuhuai must have felt.
“I was angry and bewildered,” Ji Shuhuai continued.
He looked down at himself, puzzled. “We were so different. How could he possibly like me?”
“But he didn’t give up. That boy was stubborn. He refused to accept my rejections. Sometimes, if I was too harsh, he’d be sad for a night, but the next day, he’d be back, full of energy, trying again.”
Ji Shuhuai seemed tired, leaning his head back. “I don’t know where he got the persistence.”
“Did you…” Jing Ciying couldn’t contain his curiosity. “Did you ever agree?”
The question seemed to stump him. He remained silent for a long moment.
Finally, he shook his head. “No. I kept rejecting him. He confessed throughout his four years of college, but I never agreed. After graduation, he joined my company and continued pursuing me, until his accident.”
A pang of sympathy struck Jing Ciying.
“I rejected him again, and he stormed off. I thought he’d be back as usual, but he got into a car accident, and then…”
Ji Shuhuai didn’t finish the sentence, but the implication was clear.
He seemed to realize he had said too much, discarding the broken cigarette and turning to leave.
“Sorry, I’m not myself today. I talked too much,” he apologized.
Jing Ciying shook his head. “No, I enjoy talking to you.”
Ji Shuhuai smiled and turned to go.
Jing Ciying hesitated, then asked the question that had been on his mind, “Mr. Ji, did you ever… like him?”
Ji Shuhuai paused, as if considering the question. Then he shook his head, but his answer was, “I loved him.”
Jing Ciying was stunned, a wave of sadness washing over him.
“When he loved me, I didn’t dare admit I loved him back.”
“He must be angry now.”
“Even though I tell him I love him every day, he doesn’t respond anymore.”
Ji Shuhuai gave another sad smile before turning and walking back to the ward.
Despite spending five days at the hospital, Jing Ciying felt energized, returning to work with renewed vigor.
Pei Songji was indeed hiring a new personal assistant, but he had interviewed several candidates without finding a suitable one.
Jing Ciying wasn’t surprised. Given Pei Songji’s exacting standards, it was difficult to please him. He felt a sense of self-satisfaction, realizing he had made himself indispensable.
Pei Songji felt the same.
He had assumed hiring a new assistant would be easy. Jing Ciying had been easy to find and had always been satisfactory.
But whether it was habit or Jing Ciying had raised the bar, he couldn’t find anyone comparable. They were either careless, incompetent, or forgetful. None could meet his expectations.
He wondered if he was being too picky, but he quickly realized it wasn’t him.
Jing Ciying was simply exceptionally capable, irreplaceable even in a seemingly simple role.
He had pondered why Jing Ciying was so thorough and meticulous. He concluded there were two reasons.
First, he needed the money. Although he didn’t know why Jing Ciying was so desperate, his willingness to work multiple jobs spoke volumes. The high salary motivated him to excel, leaving no room for criticism.
The second reason was…
Although Pei Songji had developed feelings first, Jing Ciying wasn’t entirely indifferent.
From their orchestrated encounters to his attentiveness beyond the call of duty, his dedication hinted at underlying affection.
Without some level of caring, he wouldn’t be so devoted.
This realization strengthened Pei Songji’s resolve to hire another assistant.
Although he was attracted to Jing Ciying, he wasn’t interested in a relationship with a man.
His feelings were likely a result of their constant proximity.
The ideal solution would be to transfer Jing Ciying, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Hiring another assistant would hopefully distract him.
Even with his newfound awareness, he would never express his feelings.
It was an unspoken rule, but they both understood that marriages in their circle were often based on business, not love. He couldn’t offer Jing Ciying anything.
He planned to reduce their interactions once a new assistant was hired, hoping to cool his emotions.
But when Jing Ciying returned from leave, his resolve wavered.
He maintained his composure, betraying nothing on the surface.
But only he knew that when Jing Ciying brought him his coffee, asking if it was to his liking, he had been so distracted he hadn’t even tasted it.
This wasn’t good.
This unease persisted through the weekend, during his visit to his grandparents.
Inevitably, the topic of marriage arose.
In the past, he would have deflected the conversation, but this time, when they mentioned marriage, he thought of Jing Ciying.
The realization shocked him, almost causing him to drop his teacup.
He heard his grandfather saying, “Your grandmother and I have met this young lady. She’s wonderful. Just meet her, that’s all we ask.”
He opened his mouth to refuse, but then, remembering his earlier thoughts, the words changed. “Alright,” he agreed.
On Monday, Pei Songji arrived at the office as usual. Five minutes later, the familiar knock came.
Jing Ciying entered, placing a freshly brewed cup of coffee beside him.
The chief assistant followed, reciting his schedule.
After listening, Pei Songji paused. “Clear my schedule for this afternoon.”
Jing Ciying’s heart skipped a beat, fearing another business trip. But it wasn’t.
Pei Songji didn’t explain.
It wasn’t until that afternoon, when Pei Songji returned home and asked him to choose an outfit, that Jing Ciying learned he had a blind date.
“A blind date?” He was surprised. Pei Songji was a workaholic, rarely showing any interest in romance. The news was unexpected.
But his surprise quickly turned to a dull ache, so intense he almost lost his composure.
Unbeknownst to him, Pei Songji had been observing him closely.
Initially, seeing no reaction, he assumed Jing Ciying was hiding his disappointment.
Then, as Jing Ciying helped him dress, his movements became slower, almost dropping his Rolex while fastening it.
Was his distress that obvious?
Pei Songji felt a pang of sympathy but remained silent.
Jing Ciying finally managed to get him dressed. Looking at the impeccably dressed man before him, he knew the blind date would likely be a success.
Although Pei Songji was a demanding and nitpicky boss in Jing Ciying’s eyes, he was undeniably handsome and wealthy. A man possessing both was a rare find. He wasn’t worried about the outcome.
On the contrary, he hoped it wouldn’t work out, or at least not for a few years.
One Pei Songji was difficult enough to handle. He dreaded the thought of a Mrs. Pei adding to his workload.
Should he ask for a raise?
“You don’t want me to go on this date?” Pei Songji, as if sensing his thoughts, suddenly asked.
Startled, Jing Ciying feared his feelings had been exposed. “Of course not, Mr. Pei! I’m thrilled for you. I hope everything goes well.”
He started flattering him, but Pei Songji didn’t seem pleased.
Unsure of what to do, Jing Ciying fell silent.
Pei Songji, after a moment of silence, said something completely unexpected, “You don’t have to hide it.”
Jing Ciying: ?
