Chapter 8

Qi Jing had barely finished his meal when his eyes grew heavy and listless. It wasn’t until the doctor examined him and concluded that he needed three weeks of rest that things finally wrapped up.

Time to head back.

Bo Chengyan scooped Qi Jing up from the wheelchair by passing his arms under the boy’s armpits. Lin Se returned the wheelchair—it required leaving an ID card as a deposit.

Only after they were in the car did he notice that the kid had fallen asleep in an instant.

?

Was there a sleeping pill in the car or something?

Lin Se let out a tsk of amazement. He turned to Bo Chengyan. “Mind if I take his pulse?”

They had switched to a spacious nanny van for the ride. A blanket covered Qi Jing, his cheek resting softly against one side. He looked utterly peaceful.

“Mm.”

Lin Se checked the boy’s pulse and found it steady enough. “Nothing serious. I saw how skinny he is and thought you weren’t feeding him properly. Turns out he was just spooked.”

“He’s still growing.”

Bo Chengyan sat in the seat beside him, glancing down at Qi Jing with an impassive expression.

Lin Se carefully tucked the pale, slender wrist back under the blanket. For some inexplicable reason, his heart fluttered with delight, as if he’d just witnessed the big bad wolf at home with a tiny kitten.

What a stark contrast.

“So, what’s your plan with him?”

In the end, the young man turned back, a puzzled look on his face. He and Bo Chengyan had met at university abroad. Their friendship had lasted five or six years back then, and with the years since graduation, it was nearing a decade now.

“Rumors outside say you’re keeping him like a sugar baby?”

“You’re not actually some kind of pervert, are you?”

Lin Se crossed his legs and leaned in curiously. He was a close friend, after all, and occasionally dared to tease like this.

“Maybe.”

“. . .”

Lin Se began tracing a cross over his chest, but the next second—

“Why not wait until after his birthday this year? Change his surname and add him to my household registry.”

Bo Chengyan’s tone was flat, his dark eyes still as a deep well. He didn’t sound like he was joking.

Lin Se was stunned, but mindful not to wake the sleeping boy, he whispered in rebuttal, “My God, you want to change his household registry? Is that even possible? Adoption rules in China are incredibly strict. Adopting an adult would get flagged as improper intentions.”

He thought for a moment. “Underage ones are even trickier.”

“But hasn’t his registry already been placed under the Old Estate? He’s technically part of the Bo Family now. Why move it to yours?”

Bo Chengyan couldn’t quite explain the convoluted reasons behind it. He simply believed the legal process would help correct the teenager’s misguided affections.

“Anyway, we’ll see after his birthday this year.”

His gaze settled once more on the sleeping boy’s face. After crying all night from the ordeal, tiny capillaries had burst under his eyelids.

The night was pitch black, and the car glided smoothly along.

Lin Se had the driver pull over when they reached his stop, but before stepping out, he couldn’t resist adding, “I don’t fully get it, Bo. Humans aren’t like little pets. Raising one comes with real responsibility.”

“You know pets have short lifespans—you only need to care for them a while.”

“But people… barring marriage or starting a family, there’s no reason for anyone to commit to another for life.”

. . .

Brocade River Villas.

Qi Jing woke in a daze, his head nestled against Bo Chengyan’s shoulder. He was still so tired.

He could hear Auntie speaking. “Is it serious?”

A vibration rumbled through Bo Chengyan’s chest against his chin as the man replied, “He hit the corner of the tea table. A few weeks of rest should do it.”

“I’ll take him upstairs.”

Qi Jing was exhausted, his foot throbbing with pain. His eyelids drifted shut bit by bit.

It felt like they took the stairs instead of the elevator.

He was laid gently on the bed. A soft voice came from above his forehead. “Little Jing?”

Qi Jing stirred awake. His vision was blurry, but Bo Chengyan’s figure loomed over him, shielding his eyes from the warm ceiling light.

“Mm…”

He was so sleepy.

“Can you undress yourself?”

Qi Jing’s eyes closed again moments later.

The room fell quiet once more.

After a few minutes, Qi Jing felt himself being lifted from the bed. His jacket was slipped off, and he was set back down.

Someone touched his forehead.

He must have left by now…

Qi Jing didn’t even bother opening his eyes.

Brocade River Villas was some distance from the city center, with far less noise. Moonlight streamed in through the window.

Bo Chengyan sat in the chair at Qi Jing’s desk, watching the boy through half the night with downcast eyes.

The next day.

Qi Jing woke in a muddle, his back and waist aching from sleeping in his clothes. It was uncomfortable. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his ankle.

Memories slowly resurfaced.

He might need a crutch.

Qi Jing glanced around his room. No such luck.

It was exactly six o’clock—not his usual wake-up time. A bit early.

But he couldn’t fall back asleep. Hopping on one foot, he made his way to the bathroom. In the mirror, his eyelids looked slightly puffy.

He patted them with cold water, then hopped back to bed.

He planned to head downstairs for breakfast at six-thirty.

But he didn’t feel like moving.

Qi Jing drooped his eyes, a touch unhappy. Just then, a knocking sound came from the window—thump thump. He turned to look and saw 996 plastered flat against the glass outside like a pancake.

Its beady eyes had turned into dizzy spirals.

He reached out, opened the window, and let it in, puzzled. “Can’t you phase through walls?”

【Ah, I forgot again.】

Qi Jing caught a whiff of plum wine in the air—pleasant and fragrant. He looked down at the system. “Have you been drinking?”

The Blue Slime’s body felt slightly warm to the touch.

“You won’t crash like this?”

【No worries, no worries. It’s plum wine season… hehehe…】

“. . .”

Qi Jing was up early with nothing to do, so he fiddled with 996. Glancing down, he asked, “Who is the protagonist bottom, anyway? I forgot to ask last time.”

996’s beady eyes turned to wavy lines, like a puppy blissfully getting its head scratched.

It queried its database.

【Ruan Heng.】

Creak—

The bedroom door swung open.

Bo Chengyan hadn’t expected Qi Jing to be awake when he entered. Their eyes met, and he frowned. “You’re up?”

Qi Jing still held 996, which was growing warmer by the second—almost hot to the touch.

【Rub me, rub some more.】

“. . .”

Qi Jing froze for a second, then casually set 996 on the far side of the bed. He knew only he could see it.

But he felt inexplicably tense anyway.

Why hadn’t Bo Chengyan left? What was he doing here?

“Mm.”

Qi Jing sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at him. Before he could say anything, a cool finger pressed against his forehead.

“Let’s take your temperature.”

Bo Chengyan produced a thermometer and bent down to steady Qi Jing’s chin. “Open your mouth.”

The cool object slid under his tongue. Qi Jing blinked in confusion but obeyed, his brows furrowing slightly.

Once Bo Chengyan saw he could hold it in place, he let go. With a weary rub at his brow, he pulled over a chair and sat down.

They had to wait five minutes.

Qi Jing felt a bit on edge, his eyelids lowering shyly even as he stole glances at the man.

When would he switch to a new goldfinch?

Could it wait just a little longer…

996 lay sprawled on the bed, passed out like a large jelly, utterly still.

But right then—

“Nothing on your mind?”

Qi Jing blinked, tilting his head. The thermometer still stuck out of his mouth, making him look comically puzzled.

What was there to think about?

Yet the man’s gaze held such sincere intensity.

Bo Chengyan averted his eyes and checked his wristwatch instead. “I’ve got you excused from school. Stay home for a week.”

No school?

Qi Jing’s eyes lit up for a moment, but worry quickly clouded them again. What if he fell behind?

He fretted about getting into a good university. A Capital City household registry was a huge advantage, sure, but his early education had been in some backwater mountain village school. The gap was massive.

He just hoped to make the cut for undergrad.

Thermometer still in his mouth, Qi Jing mulled over his future.

Bo Chengyan stood and tilted the boy’s face up. “Open.”

For a second or two, he glimpsed the vivid red inside—37.1 degrees.

A low fever.

Bo Chengyan’s brow furrowed, a faint irritation stirring within. Lin Se had a point, after all.

The time and energy required to keep a person was beyond imagination.

Qi Jing had never been sick before.

Not until now.

~~~

Chen Jiangqiao sobbed and sniffled in her bedroom, essentially under soft house arrest. Chen Zhuo dangled a cigarette from his lips, exasperated beyond measure.

“Are you seriously devaluing yourself like this? How old are you?”

“He’s twenty-nine, you’re twenty—a nine-year gap! What are you rushing into it for?”

“The family poured everything into raising and educating you, and all you can think about is becoming some rich man’s wife?”

That only made Chen Jiangqiao angrier. “I never wanted to study in the first place! You all forced me!”

Her words did nothing but sour the mood further.

Chen Zhuo shoved his hands in his pockets, his gaze turning icy. He itched to slap some sense into her.

Had her brain not finished developing?

Or had it only unlocked the romance option?

Call her devoted? Hardly—Chen Jiangqiao had a string of boyfriends from childhood on, every one a dramatic mess.

Call her foolish? No, she’d earnestly analyzed the Bo Family’s future potential and the benefits she could bring as a wife.

“What’s wrong with that? I just want to skip a few years of detours!”

Chen Zhuo was speechless. “What? You think the family led you down the wrong path?”

“I don’t care. I want to marry him!”

“Grandpa agrees too!”

That was actually the hardest part to deal with. Old Master Chen’s mind wasn’t as sharp as it used to be, but he still saw the Bo Family as a solid match—especially given their growth in recent years. He had grown increasingly pleased with Bo Chengyan.

Yet the Chen Family only had two grandchildren in total, both blood-related.

The Bo Family, on the other hand… How many branches did the previous generation even have? With all those tangled clan ties, Chen Zhuo didn’t dare even contemplate how Bo Chengyan had seized control.

His sister only cared about the public glamour, blind to the fact that it was a bottomless pit.

Moreover—

Chen Zhuo said coldly, “He doesn’t like women.”

Chen Jiangqiao didn’t even look up. “You’re lying to me! You said he’s just sending false signals to the outside world, building hype ahead of time.”

Chen Zhuo rolled his eyes. He pinched out the cigarette butt between his bare fingers, tossed it into the trash can, leaned against the vanity table, and scolded her. “Are you blind? Haven’t you seen the people around him?”

The people in the office.

Both of them fell silent for a moment.

Chen Zhuo felt his brow twitching. Plenty of people in their circle played around indiscriminately, but he truly had a hard time believing it when it came to Bo Chengyan.

After all, he was the one who helped fabricate that sort of tabloid fodder for him—mainly to convince the side branches that Bo Chengyan wouldn’t be having any kids anytime soon.

The shift had happened during the disaster relief charity event two years ago.

Bo Chengyan had brought back a kid. It had seemed normal enough at the time, and Chen Zhuo had asked what it was about.

His reply? “Can’t you go make up stories about me?”

The boy had been about fifteen back then, his face and arms smeared with mud, though the rest of his skin remained strikingly pale. He lay unconscious in the hospital bed as a nurse hooked him up to an IV drip of nutrients.

Two years later, Chen Zhuo never would have imagined the Bo Family would raise him so well.

Chen Zhuo had no idea what peculiar tastes Bo Chengyan might have. He only knew the man brushed off all the mud slung at him without a care, leaving it impossible to tell truth from fiction.

But Chen Jiangqiao wasn’t ready to give up yet.

She said stubbornly, “I think I’ve got more going for me than he does.”

~~~

Qi Jing received an electric wheelchair, and his curiosity was so overwhelming that he completely forgot about his grueling work schedule. Bo Chengyan scooped him up with one arm and settled him into it.

Once he was seated, Qi Jing gave the controls a try.

It moved fast.

“Thank you, Mr. Bo.”

Qi Jing’s eyes sparkled, as if he’d just been handed a shiny new toy.

For the moment, he pushed aside any worries about being replaced someday.

Instead, he happily spun in delighted circles right there on the spot.

“What are you thinking about, Little Jing?”