Qi Jing didn’t have to wait long. Soon, someone arrived to swap out his smart wristband for an all-black one. After a few simple operations, he could see everything: heart rate, blood oxygen levels, movement trajectory… the basics were all there.
“Any abnormal readings exceeding the threshold will alert the main device,” the person explained.
“Okay.”
Bo Chengyan exchanged a few brief words with them, and they bowed before leaving, delivering a large box in the process.
Qi Jing peered inside curiously. It was packed with all sorts of gadgets—watches, cameras…
A camera, of all things.
“Little Jing.”
The young man hadn’t been fiddling with it for long before he stood and walked over to Bo Chengyan, who was perched on the edge of the desk. “Come here.”
He took hold of Qi Jing’s wrist.
Qi Jing stepped closer, eyes lowered to examine the small screen. Bo Chengyan had shown him how it worked last time.
“Don’t take this off. Besides the GPS tracking, it also listens in and activates the camera if any of your vital signs go haywire.”
Bo Chengyan watched him closely. This level of surveillance was far from ordinary, and any hint of resistance was possible.
It was only natural.
Qi Jing blinked up at him curiously. “Haywire?”
“If your heart rate spikes, your blood pressure drops too low or shoots too high, if you take an external hit, or if the wristband gets damaged—it’ll alert me.”
Qi Jing stared blankly, still gazing down at it.
Bo Chengyan gripped his wrist bone gently and added, “You don’t have to wear it at home. Just put it on when you go out.”
“It alerts you?”
“That’s right. I’ll come find you.”
Qi Jing couldn’t quite grasp that sense of security just yet. But he thought back to being cornered on the stairwell landing—if Bo Chengyan had come for him then, it really would have made him so much happier.
His heart fizzed like it was filled with popping candy, crackling and bursting.
“That’s so safe.”
“Mm.”
A device that trampled all over personal rights had just been fastened onto the young man’s wrist.
Both of them were perfectly satisfied.
At noon, Qi Jing ate in the office with Bo Chengyan for the first time. The food was from home, delivered fresh.
Only then did he notice the living quarters on the top floor. There was even a discreet door leading to a bedroom farther in.
It had a bed.
Qi Jing felt a spark of curiosity. Did Bo Chengyan usually sleep here at the company? The space looked huge.
He picked up a clump of garlic shoots with his chopsticks, legs crossed and swinging idly under the chair.
He hadn’t taken a bite yet.
“Little Jing.”
Qi Jing turned his head, popped the vegetables into his mouth, and looked up—like some small, curious animal.
“…”
About halfway through the meal, the office door swung open. Lin Se burst in, practically vibrating with excitement. He even bent over, hands on his knees, waving wildly. “Hey, hey! Remember me?”
Bo Chengyan frowned at him, but the young man quickly explained. “If I made an appointment, you wouldn’t have let me in at all.”
“For the sake of the heavens, forgive me. I just wanted to check if Baby’s all better.”
Qi Jing tilted his head, puzzled. “Baby’s me?”
This kind of confusion cropped up often. Whenever he was around Bo Chengyan, someone else seemed to coin a new nickname for him.
He wasn’t always sure how to take it.
Lin Se melted completely, dropping into another chair without a care. His expression softened. “Yes, Baby—you.”
Qi Jing froze, shooting a bewildered glance at Bo Chengyan, as if seeking help.
Bo Chengyan merely leaned back in his chair, eyes lowered, and said softly, “Finish your meal first. Ignore him.”
But that wasn’t quite what Qi Jing wanted to ask. He was just curious deep down.
[Whose baby am I?]
Bo Chengyan’s fingers twitched faintly. He didn’t answer, merely averted his gaze to Lin Se instead.
“Wait a moment. Let him finish eating.”
Five minutes or so later, the lunchboxes had been cleared away. Qi Jing extended his wrist, and Lin Se gave it a gentle check. “Looking good. Nice and healthy, kiddo.”
“I’m pretty grown up.”
Qi Jing didn’t quite get it. He’d watched those videos—he definitely wasn’t some innocent child.
“Little Jing.”
Qi Jing turned to him, expression earnest.
Bo Chengyan glanced at his wristwatch. It was around twelve-thirty. “Go take a nap in the bedroom. At one-thirty, someone will take you to school. Go on.”
Qi Jing nodded. “Okay.”
His body clock was reliable. He napped at home too; today was just at the company.
Qi Jing pushed open the hidden door. Inside was a spacious bed with a warm lamp glowing softly. There was even a foreign-language book on the nightstand.
After closing the door, curiosity got the better of him. He cracked it open again.
They were talking.
“You’re too impulsive, man. Cutting off their supply and forcing that little company right out of the Capital City.”
“Rumors outside are even wilder. They say your little goldfinch is a real bringer of disaster.”
…
Qi Jing didn’t catch the rest. Suddenly, he sensed Bo Chengyan turning toward him. He jerked back, breath catching.
The wristband buzzed against his skin. Startled, Qi Jing steadied his breathing until the countdown stabilized.
“…”
Qi Jing decided this thing had some annoying quirks.
Bo Chengyan exchanged a few words with Lin Se outside, then got back to work. Around one-thirty, he rose and pushed open the bedroom door.
There was Qi Jing, curled in the corner under a blanket, school jacket shed beside him.
He slept soundly.
Bo Chengyan approached and brushed the hair from Qi Jing’s forehead, checking his temperature. Only then did he realize the fever had broken.
Qi Jing was still dreaming when he was roused—back to those old memories, running through the mountains over and over, never escaping.
Mountains on one side, more mountains beyond.
Qi Jing’s eyes remained heavy-lidded and unfocused. Only when his jacket was slipped back on did he register where he was. A low voice murmured near his ear.
“Bad dream?”
This place was perfection itself—no worries, nothing to fret over. At first, Qi Jing hadn’t understood what “goldfinch” meant, but he’d looked it up since.
For someone from a world of utter deprivation, it was paradise. Qi Jing accepted it effortlessly.
He even studied diligently.
He knew his place.
His cheek scrunched as he threw his arms around Bo Chengyan without a second thought.
“I like it…”
Bo Chengyan pried his hands free, frowning as he lifted the young man from the bed’s edge and set him on his feet.
“Go wash your face.”
The cold water jolted him awake. Qi Jing squinted in the bathroom as droplets stung his eyes.
He was still mulling over that “bringer of disaster” bit. He knew the literal meaning but wondered what Bo Chengyan thought.
Had he caused some kind of trouble?
Qi Jing dried his face and stepped out. Bo Chengyan stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, on the phone a short distance away.
Qi Jing waited there.
But it was like Bo Chengyan had eyes in the back of his head. He turned on a dime, spotted Qi Jing, and ended the call.
“The driver’s waiting. Go down with the assistant.”
Qi Jing nodded, then remembered something and looked up. “Mr. Bo, there’s a parent-teacher meeting… I forgot to mention. Who should I ask to come?”
Bo Chengyan’s brow furrowed slightly. “When?”
“This Friday.”
~~~
For the next few days, Qi Jing didn’t see Bo Chengyan at all. But he got a new friend request on his phone.
111: It’s Jiang Xiuyuan.
Qi Jing remembered—the guy from the clubhouse.
They were both little birds.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than another request popped up.
I’m Jiang Xiuyuan, from Yuan Sheng.
Less than two seconds later.
111: It’s Jiang Xiuyuan. Did you forget me?
Qi Jing approved it quickly, added a note, and started messaging.
Hates Broccoli: I remember. I didn’t forget.
111: Oh, good.
111: I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.
Qi Jing found it odd but wasn’t sure how to reply. After a moment, he typed.
Hates Broccoli: Okay.
Four or five minutes passed.
Qi Jing was at his desk, reviewing his weekly test answers. Scores would be out on parent-teacher conference day, and he felt a twinge of anxiety.
For some reason, he had a nagging feeling… that Bo Chengyan might actually show up.
Qi Jing couldn’t tell if it was nerves or anticipation.
Then his phone buzzed again.
111: You know, you didn’t even ask how I got your WeChat.
Qi Jing paused at the message, then typed back to ask.
111: I’m not telling you.
“…”
Even as Jiang Xiuyuan said it, a sour feeling lingered. He stood in the VIP suite of a hotel, body covered in bruises and marks of rough play.
But he’d enjoyed it. The young man didn’t dwell.
He called out to the man behind him. “He’s just a kid. I couldn’t get anything out of him.”
Chen Zhuo rose from the bed, refreshed and sated. He approached, tapping Jiang Xiuyuan’s cheek lightly with a black card.
“Hey, don’t say it like that. You’re the one who’s talked to the kid the most.”
“High value, you know.”
Chen Zhuo tossed the card aside and walked out.
“You’re not bad.”
It sounded like praise.
Jiang Xiuyuan’s expression remained neutral. Once Chen Zhuo was gone, he immediately used his phone to snag the LV bag he’d eyed.
His balance shot up. In the end, the Yuan Sheng gig was basically high-end escorting—base pay alone was thirty or forty thousand.
The manager had even thrown in some extra cash, all on account of… Qi Jing’s face.
Jiang Xiuyuan frowned slightly. He really didn’t want to admit it, but the sugar daddy he’d landed this time was indeed thanks to those few extra words he’d traded with Qi Jing that day.
Provocative words, no less.
Who could say whether it was a blessing in disguise, or if fortune and misfortune were simply intertwined.
It was Friday.
Nearly every parent had shown up, except for Qi Jing’s—it was his Auntie instead. He couldn’t help feeling disappointed.
Lin Yuze, however, breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He simply led Qi Jing out the classroom door, while Jiang Yao scrolled idly through posts on her phone.
Her eyes lit up at a certain news item.
“Hey, there’s a meteor shower coming up in a few days! Let’s go watch it!”
The girl’s uncle had come to pick her up—her parents were too busy—and they were all used to arrangements like that.
Only Huang Ze had his own mother there with him. She looked thoroughly dejected, slouched against the railing as she rolled her eyes and said, “Jiang Yao, I’ve been telling you that forever! Those dates line up perfectly with Little Jing’s birthday. Camping’s the absolute best option!”
Qi Jing was utterly distracted, nodding absently at whatever his friends threw at him.
“That’s perfect! I’ll put together the itinerary!” Jiang Yao whipped out her phone and dove straight into Xiaohongshu, buzzing with excitement.
The corridor bustled with parents and students streaming back and forth. The parent-teacher conference had wrapped up around five in the afternoon, and Qi Jing and his classmates had killed time playing Truth or Dare in the lounge next door. The hours slipped by quickly.
Qi Jing never dared pick Dare—he always went for Truth—but today, whether it was rotten luck or something else, the spinner on the floor kept landing on him.
Sitting across from him was a male classmate he didn’t know all that well.
“Does Little Jing like boys or girls?”
An instant hush fell over the room.
