What to Do When Mistaken for the CEO’s Brother? 17

Chapter 17

His thoughts tangled, and after two cocktails, Murong Cheng, with his notoriously low alcohol tolerance, predictably passed out at the bar.

Chi Yu resignedly called his boss to request time off and carried Murong Cheng home.

After sleeping for almost a full day, Murong Cheng woke up in the evening.

His phone was buzzing with messages, the most recent ones from Mu Haoqiong and Chi Yu.

[PoorPoor: Going to work. Call me if you need anything.]

[PoorPoor: Are you awake?]

[PoorPoor: Working overtime, can’t leave. How are you feeling?]

Chi Yu’s messages were similar, asking if he was awake and how he was feeling.

Even though he hadn’t drunk much, he still had a hangover, and his head throbbed. His cold hadn’t completely gone away either.

He coughed, wincing slightly.

Scrolling through the messages, his eyes suddenly lit up.

A message from Murong Yan.

He had added the CEO on the day of the golf outing. Murong Yan’s username was a simple “Y.” His profile picture, similar to Murong Cheng’s parents’, was a scenic landscape of blue skies, green grass, and a clear lake. His Moments, as expected, were infrequent, mostly reposts about Guangyu and Lingyu.

[Y: There’s an event tonight.]

No inquiries about his health or availability, just a direct notification, almost a command.

But Murong Cheng’s heart still skipped a beat.

The message had been sent over an hour ago.

He typed frantically.

[Cheng: Sorry, CEO Murong, just saw this.]

[Cheng: What event? Should I come now?]

He was pathetically eager, even he had to admit.

His phone screen dimmed. He took a deep breath, got out of bed, and headed straight for the bathroom.

After sleeping for a day, his clothes reeked of alcohol.

After showering, the room felt fresher. He dried his hair, his heart pounding with anticipation as he checked his phone.

Two new messages from Murong Yan.

[Y: Come downstairs. Xia Jie is waiting at your apartment complex.]

[Y: Wear formal attire.]

His shirts were wrinkled from the last wash. He had no time to iron them, so he opted for a light gray turtleneck sweater under his black suit jacket.

He grabbed his bag, some bread, and a bottle of water, and hurried downstairs. Xia Jie was indeed waiting in a white Maybach. The usual Rolls-Royce was probably with the CEO.

After a twenty-minute drive, they arrived at a five-star hotel. Xia Jie handed him an invitation.

Unlike Guangyu’s minimalist style, the hotel lobby was opulent and extravagant. Despite wearing his most formal outfit, Murong Cheng still felt out of place.

The event was a charity gala. It had already started, and the lobby was quiet.

His invitation identified him as a Guangyu Group staff member. He glanced at it, feeling a pang of disappointment. What would the CEO’s invitation say? Esteemed Mr. Murong? Murong Yan, CEO of Guangyu Group?

Murong Yan was the powerful CEO of Guangyu, and he was just a nameless assistant. How could he have been so foolish as to fall for his boss?

The security guard at the entrance checked his invitation and let him in. Two guards opened the doors to the main ballroom.

Huge crystal chandeliers illuminated the room, the light reflecting off the countless crystals. The walls were covered in gold wallpaper, and a thick crimson carpet covered the floor.

It was like a scene from a movie, opulent and luxurious.

Guests in elegant gowns and suits, holding champagne flutes, chatted politely in small groups.

Murong Cheng scanned the room and quickly spotted Murong Yan.

Even in this crowd, he stood out.

He was like the brightest star in the night sky, drawing Murong Cheng’s gaze.

He was raising his glass to a woman in a white strapless gown. A large gemstone necklace sparkled against her fair skin. They exchanged smiles and sipped their champagne.

Murong Cheng licked his lips nervously and took a glass of juice from a passing waiter.

He avoided alcohol. He was here to work, after all.

He straightened up and walked towards the CEO.

“CEO Murong,” he said, meeting the man’s gaze.

“How are you feeling?” Murong Yan asked, his eyes fixed on him.

The surrounding noise made it difficult to hear. “What?”

Murong Yan didn’t repeat the question but reached out and gently touched his forehead.

A jolt, like static electricity.

Murong Cheng’s mind went blank, his cheeks burning.

The touch was light, barely there, but he still felt a wave of heat spread through his body.

He realized what the CEO had asked.

“Much better. My fever’s gone,” he replied softly, avoiding the CEO’s gaze.

“Good,” Murong Yan nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

After a moment, he continued, “This is a charity auction. Stay with me.”

Murong Cheng nodded obediently. “Yes, CEO Murong.”

Murong Yan’s voice softened. “Tell me if you feel unwell. You can go home.”

Murong Cheng nodded again.

Having delivered his instructions, the CEO turned back to the other guests.

Murong Cheng followed him, carrying his orange juice and his backpack, then suddenly remembered something.

“Where’s Duan-ge?”

Murong Yan glanced back at him. “I only asked you to come tonight.”

Murong Cheng’s heart skipped a beat.

Although it was a charity auction, the first night was more of a networking event for high-society figures.

Murong Yan, undeniably the most prominent figure among A City’s elite, was surrounded by people eager to speak with him.

His phone vibrated repeatedly in his pocket. He glanced at the caller ID and frowned slightly. He looked at Murong Cheng, then walked towards a side door.

It was his troublesome brother.

Murong Jing rarely called him directly. He usually preferred more underhanded methods.

Stepping out of the ballroom, he answered the call. Silence.

“Hello?”

He waited, but there was no response. Assuming it was a misdial, he was about to hang up when he heard a voice.

Close to his ear, but not from the phone.

He turned around and saw Murong Jing, dressed as a hotel waiter, walking towards him.

He narrowed his eyes, a silent warning.

But Murong Jing, seemingly oblivious, smirked.

“My dear brother, you’re quite the star attraction in there. I wouldn’t dare approach.”

Murong Yan waited patiently.

“Your little brother can’t even get in, but you not only managed to enter but also brought your assistant.” Murong Jing chuckled, his tone changing. “But… your assistant looks familiar. Did Duan Shao get plastic surgery?”

At the mention of Murong Cheng, a sharp glint flashed in Murong Yan’s eyes. “What do you want?”

“Nothing, brother, just curious about your life. We’ve never been close. If I don’t keep tabs on you, I’ll know nothing about you,” Murong Jing stretched lazily, leaning against the wall. He looked like a cheetah about to pounce. “I just took a closer look and realized your assistant isn’t completely unfamiliar. I’ve seen him somewhere before… where have I seen him? Brother, I can’t remember. Help me out?”

Murong Yan’s face remained impassive as he turned to leave.

He had been out for a while. He wondered if Murong Cheng had followed him.

“Murong Yan,” Murong Jing’s voice turned cold. “You kept an employee who failed their performance review and made them your assistant? I never knew you had such a kind heart.”

Murong Yan stopped, his back still turned. “My company’s affairs are none of your concern.”

Murong Jing chuckled and stepped in front of him. “Your company?”

Murong Yan raised an eyebrow, saying nothing.

Murong Jing stared at him, then smiled. “I love this about you, Murong Yan. Arrogant and condescending.”

He leaned in close, his lips almost brushing Murong Yan’s ear, his voice a low murmur. “I can’t wait to see you fall from grace… I wonder what that would look like?”

The ballroom door opened slightly, and Murong Jing quickly stepped back.

Someone else emerged.

Murong Cheng.

He cautiously opened the door, looking around.

“Oh, looking for you,” Murong Jing glanced at Murong Cheng, then back at Murong Yan, noticing his brother’s immediate focus on the young man at the door. He frowned, then quickly covered it up. “I won’t disturb you then.”

He turned and left.

Murong Cheng, seeing Murong Yan with someone close, felt a pang of unease. The person looked like a hotel waiter, but Murong Yan hadn’t moved away. They seemed to know each other.

He couldn’t help but watch the person leave.

“That’s my brother,” Murong Yan said suddenly, as if sensing his unease.

Murong Cheng paused. “Oh.”

Was the CEO… explaining himself?

Wait… that was Murong Yan’s brother? The real one?

He tried to get another look, but the corridor was empty.

But why would the CEO explain himself? He blinked.

Was he worried he would gossip about their seemingly intimate interaction?

Silence.

Should he say something? I won’t tell anyone what I saw? That would sound stupid. What was the appropriate response in this situation?

Murong Yan’s expression was his usual impassive mask. But somehow, Murong Cheng sensed his displeasure.

Why was he unhappy? Because his brother had seen them together?

It was well-known that the Murong family valued privacy and disliked media attention.

The CEO reached into his pocket, as if for his cigarettes, then hesitated and lowered his hand.

After a moment of internal debate, Murong Cheng decided on honesty. “CEO Murong, don’t worry, I didn’t see anything.”

The words felt like a weight lifted from his shoulders.

He looked into Murong Yan’s eyes.

Such beautiful eyes.

Dark yet luminous, like stars.

Those eyes were looking back at him, reflecting his own image.

Murong Yan stared at him for a moment, then smiled.

“Silly,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle, lacking its usual coldness.