Actually, they hadn’t said much that day. Qi Jing wasn’t even sure why he had suddenly been apologized to—his hair had simply been smoothed down.
That afternoon, Bo Chengyan headed out. Before leaving, he asked if Qi Jing wanted him to bring back anything.
It was an entirely new experience. Qi Jing thought for a moment. “Chocolate.”
“All right. Anything else?”
Qi Jing had the chance to choose again, but he truly hadn’t encountered so many fine things before, nor did he have the ability to tell them apart.
He shook his head.
“Just chocolate, then.”
It proved to be a peaceful afternoon.
The few photos circulating in Capital City—of him picking someone up on a rainy night—had been bought out. Bo Chengyan lowered his eyes and rubbed his fingertip over one of them, glancing at it absentmindedly.
It captured only a glimpse of a fair arm.
The chief assistant standing behind him spoke up. “The rumors have mostly been quashed. Should we get in touch with the Chen Family?”
“No need.”
Bo Chengyan set the photo back down on the desk. He turned his head languidly to regard the man. “You think I’m keeping Qi Jing as a mistress, too?”
The chief assistant: “…”
High salary did indeed come with a price.
“President Bo always considers far more than that.”
Feeling a twinge of guilt, the chief assistant picked the vague middle-ground response and dutifully lowered his head.
Truth be told, in all his years on the job, he had never seen anyone close to the boss. It wasn’t as if the man were some paragon of virtue.
But he certainly didn’t go around philandering, either.
Bo Chengyan picked up the stack of photos again, his expression icy. The media had always been cunning; just because they weren’t publishing stories didn’t mean they hadn’t hoarded the images.
In that line of work, reporters covering finance, industry, or food safety deserved respect. But those who specialized in dredging up the powerful’s sexual scandals… they brought no real value to society.
Still, it was human nature to be curious, to peer into others’ lives. That much was forgivable.
“So many photos.”
Bo Chengyan’s brow furrowed slightly. In a mild tone, he said, “Money won’t solve the root of the problem. Try a different approach.”
The chief assistant had just turned to head out and handle it when he was called back. He assumed it was some other instruction.
Instead, the man merely asked, “Any chocolate recommendations? Not too bitter.”
“And not too sweet.”
The chief assistant: “…”
~~~
Qi Jing’s birthday gifts arrived one after another—several items in all. He carefully stowed them away in his little box.
What Bo Chengyan had given him this year was a watch. But honestly, it was quite heavy.
He pondered for a moment, then put it away as well.
He sat cross-legged on the blanket, eating chocolate.
Just then, 996 flew over. It landed primly in front of Qi Jing, and their gazes met.
With complete naturalness, the boy snapped off a piece and fed it to the slime.
“Feeling better?”
996 swallowed the morsel. It felt utterly refreshed, gave its body a little shake, and digested the treat.
Then it opened its mouth wide again.
【Ah——】
Qi Jing shook his head. “No more. Just get a taste of it.”
“You malfunctioned last time. That’s why you got lost in the karst cave.”
996’s beady eyes grew a touch downcast.
Qi Jing fetched a sheet mask from the table and applied it to 996. He smoothed out every edge and corner meticulously before asking,
“Will the protagonist bottom show up after the college entrance exam?”
“Will I just… log off then?”
【Mm, yes. I mentioned it a bit last time. Basically, it’s a one-night stand.】996 sprawled contentedly on the carpet, its beady eyes narrowing in bliss.
Qi Jing sat cross-legged, curiosity lighting his features as he tilted his head. “A one-night stand?”
【Just humans piling on top of each other and moving.】
Qi Jing had picked up some knowledge not long ago. With an innocent expression, he replied, “It’s not only piling up, though.”
“I saw some against the wall.”
“Others were just holding each other.”
“And some were facing backward.”
996’s beady eyes bulged wide. Incredulously, it said: 【How do you know all that? Qingshi said you’re too young. He wouldn’t even let me talk about that kind of stuff.】
Qi Jing heard the name again and felt a spark of curiosity, but he answered earnestly all the same. “I watched porn.”
His tone was utterly calm.
996 bounced right up. Half the mask slipped off. 【Who let you watch that? Who was it?】
Qi Jing didn’t think much of it. He simply pinched the slime’s body and reapplied the mask. Then he asked, “So Bo Chengyan has sex with other people too…?”
【……】
996 truly regretted it now—bringing along such a pure, clueless kid. Back in the mountains, the boy had genuinely known nothing.
Yet Qi Jing was still mulling it over. “But Bo Chengyan doesn’t seem like the type who…”
“Does.”
The boy tumbled into a loop of confused thoughts. Only gradually did realization dawn. He patted his flushed cheeks.
What was he even thinking about?
Whether Bo Chengyan could or not had nothing to do with him.
Assuming the air of a grand educator, 996 declared: 【Your mission right now is to study hard every day, take the college entrance exam, and change your fate.】
【You’ve got less than a hundred days until the exam.】
The statement was enough to induce anxiety. Even when Qi Jing was ushered into the car at the start of May Day holiday, he was still in a daze. He stammered,
“Mi-Mr. Bo… I haven’t finished my homework.”
Bo Chengyan had spent the past half month dealing with the news swirling outside. Now he was fastening a smart wristband onto Qi Jing’s arm—a brand-new one.
“Quite a lot?”
“Yeah… including some I assigned to myself.”
His hands paused.
Qi Jing wore a simple white T-shirt. Color had returned to his cheeks somewhat, but the emotion in his eyes was utterly earnest.
Bo Chengyan frowned at him for all of two seconds. Then his gaze dropped, and the barest hint of a smile curved his lips.
“How many did you assign yourself?”
Qi Jing pulled back his wrist and glanced at it. Another new one?
“Safety belt.”
The boy ducked his head and buckled it at once.
After a moment, he answered slowly, “Quite a few.”
Bo Chengyan turned to study him. Sunlight streamed through the car window, bathing half of Qi Jing’s face. His eye sockets were deeply shadowed. In a gentle voice, the man said, “Then Little Jing, have Teacher Qi assign you less, all right?”
Qi Jing stared at him in a daze for a good long while. Then he panicked and looked away. Realization hit, and his ears burned hot. In a low mutter, he said, “I… my grades aren’t that great…”
May Day holiday was one of the longer breaks—a prime time for travel. It wasn’t until Qi Jing was brought to the airport that the realization sank in. “How many days in Macau?”
“It won’t delay the start of school.”
“We’ll come back the day before classes resume.”
Qi Jing nodded and didn’t ask further. Truth be told, he knew little of Bo Chengyan’s family situation. 996 had only ever mentioned the place name Macau.
Maybe it was his hometown?
“What’s your score right now?”
Qi Jing blinked in surprise. In the VIP lounge, a bit nervous, he replied slowly, “Average of 550.”
“Not very high,” he added.
Bo Chengyan simply told him, “That’s very high, Little Jing. You’d have no trouble getting into Capital University.”
Capital University? That was the school the protagonist bottom attended.
Qi Jing didn’t dare even dream of it.
He shook his head in a fluster. “You need over 600 for that. I can’t reach it.”
Bo Chengyan frowned. “You don’t need quite that much. Admission lines vary by region.”
Qi Jing was on the verge of asking something when someone approached from nearby. The man bent down to speak with Bo Chengyan. As he stood, Bo Chengyan reached out and ruffled the back of Qi Jing’s head.
“Stay here for a bit. There’s food.”
Bo Chengyan was still dressed in his suit and tie. It hardly seemed like a vacation. His eyes sharp, he conferred with the assistant.
The VIP lounge was stocked with plenty—comfy sofas among them. Qi Jing spotted a plate where the little snacks kept shifting about.
A blue head poked out.
Qi Jing glanced around. He walked over, using his body to block others’ views, and plucked 996 free.
“How did you get here?”
【The exam’s next month. I’m worried.】
The blue slime arched its body upward a bit more. 【You’re too young.】
Qi Jing’s brow furrowed. “I’m an adult.”
Its beady eyes blinked.
【No way. I’ll stick with you in Macau these next few days.】
The boy considered it, then grabbed his backpack from the sofa. Mildly, he said, “Then get in here.”
996 froze.
“This way, you won’t have to keep floating around.”
Boarding didn’t take long. The moment Qi Jing settled into his seat, sleepiness overtook him. He tilted his head and dozed off.
Bo Chengyan frowned as he looked over. Once more, he couldn’t hear the boy’s inner voice.
He rubbed his brow.
He couldn’t pinpoint the cause.
In reality, the world stabilizer dangled from the boy’s elbow. Meanwhile, 996 was performing a high-frequency scan on Bo Chengyan.
【Name: Bo Chengyan】
【Age: 29】
【Occupation: President of Lingyue Group.】
【Net Worth: 】
【Relationship Status: None.】
【Medical History: Migraines, 】
996 grumbled to itself. Strictly speaking, this man wasn’t even the proper protagonist of the 256th World. He belonged in some other numbered world. A work glitch had pulled him over here, but luckily there was no overlap.
Still, one issue remained: its data pull was incomplete.
Until the plot reached a later stage, it couldn’t investigate fully.
Qi Jing slept for quite a while. Before landing, he slowly straightened his backpack and looked up at Bo Chengyan.
“Wait until the plane has come to a full stop.”
The boy nodded.
“Tired?”
Qi Jing nodded again. His eyelids felt leaden. In his haze, he thought he heard a soft chuckle.
Once off the plane, they transferred straight to a car. For the first time, Qi Jing felt utterly worn out from the travel. In the car, he promptly fell asleep again.
His days and nights thoroughly upended, the 996 in his backpack sneaked out and made off with a little fruit jelly.
It still needed to check on Ruan Heng.
Macau was a world apart from Capital City. Lingering buildings from the last century dotted the landscape, blending sleek development with a hint of faded grandeur.
Warm winds drifted through the open car window, and roadside chatter buzzed in Cantonese. Bo Chengyan crossed his legs and gazed at the passing scenery.
His fingers tapped lightly against his knee.
The household registration needed to be sorted.
The man’s eyes remained calm.
“Sir, we’ve arrived.”
But Qi Jing was still asleep. Bo Chengyan frowned as he pushed open the car door and grabbed the boy’s backpack first. An attendant from the Old Estate promptly took it from him.
“Is the room ready?”
The elderly attendant bowed his head. “No one’s in the front courtyard. We’ve cleared out the side rooms.”
“Mm.”
Bo Chengyan bent down and scooped Qi Jing into his arms with effortless grace. After all, they’d spent the whole day traveling.
The elderly attendant’s eyelids flickered briefly before dropping again.
He trailed behind them.
The villa wasn’t brand new; it carried the patina of age. Yet roses bloomed profusely along the fence, adding a touch of vibrant life.
A narrow path led up to a small room on the second floor. Qi Jing lay on the bed, fast asleep, his white T-shirt merging seamlessly with the sheets and making his dark hair stand out all the more strikingly.
Bo Chengyan had other business to handle. After a moment’s thought, he bent down, took hold of the boy’s wrist, and prepared to leave a message on the electronic watch.
Qi Jing stirred groggily awake, his eyes hazy as he mumbled, “Bo… Chengyan.”
The man arched a brow.
The teenager blinked, awareness sharpening. “Mr. Bo.”
Qi Jing thought he caught a fleeting smile on the other’s face before it vanished. His wrist was gently tucked back under the covers, and Bo Chengyan’s voice softened. “I need to step out. I’ll be back in two hours. Just rest here at home.”
“There’s a new auntie downstairs who speaks Mandarin. Find her if you get hungry.”
“Call me if you need anything.”
Qi Jing instinctively burrowed his chin beneath the blanket, his eyes gleaming. “Mm.”
The man departed.
Truth be told, Qi Jing wasn’t sleepy anymore—he’d dozed the entire ride. The teenager sat up and rummaged through his backpack. No 996.
He’d run off again.
Qi Jing flopped back onto the bed like a little zombie, staring up at the ceiling. He noticed a chandelier overhead—pretty, though it looked like a nightmare to clean.
This place felt nothing like Brocade River Villas.
Qi Jing rolled over and finally slid out of bed. He wanted something to eat.
But the moment he descended the stairs, he spotted a woman in a qipao locked in a heated argument. An older woman stood opposite her, seemingly trying to bar her way.
The older one must be Auntie.
Their eyes met for a split second.
The woman in the qipao smoothed her shawl, tilted her chin upward, and gave him a once-over. “So this is Ah Yan’s little wife?”
