Chapter 9: Am I Some Kind of Weirdo?

Chapter 9: Am I Some Kind of Weirdo?

Fu Zhichen looked at Song Jiang meaningfully. "So..." He paused for a few seconds. "Steward Song, you like men."

Listening to Fu Zhichen's suggestive words and his half-smile, Song Jiang felt a bit uneasy.

Song Jiang had never thought about the question Fu Zhichen just asked.

Men or women, they could all step aside.

As a wage earner, he always believed that without money, he wasn't even worth considering—he was nothing.

In his haste, he blurted out those words without thinking.

Ugh...

Even if he liked men, what did that have to do with the big boss?

Honestly.

How should he answer now? Neither admitting nor denying was a good option. Song Jiang's mind raced.

Suddenly, two knocks sounded at the door.

"Young master, would you like more fruit? I just saw you finished the fruit, so I cut another plate."

Wang Ma, as always, was quite observant.

Song Jiang secretly rejoiced—this was the perfect chance to change the subject.

"Mr. Fu, should I bring it in for you?"

Truth be told, he still wasn't full, and he didn't know if the big boss would let him eat.

Bring it in first; he could sneak a few bites without the big boss noticing.

Fu Zhichen's fingers tapped unconsciously on the wheelchair armrest, and his eyes narrowed.

When Wang Ma said 'finished,' he wondered.

Had the little steward not thrown away the piece he'd bitten into?

Rather than feel disgusted, he found his little steward quite gluttonous.

Just like that silly little dog of his—whenever it saw something it liked, it would stare and drool.

He wondered if his little steward was the same.

"Bring it in."

Song Jiang eagerly opened the door.

"Wang Ma, let me take that."

When Song Jiang turned, Fu Zhichen was no longer where he had been.

Song Jiang stood at the doorway, unable to see inside or what Fu Zhichen was doing.

Time for a sneaky snack.

Song Jiang picked a few pieces and stuffed them into his mouth.

The big boss wasn't around; now or never?

After eating, Song Jiang gently put down the fruit plate, opened the door, and was already halfway out.

Suddenly, that irritating voice came from behind him.

"Steward Song, where do you think you're going?"

Completely unflustered, Song Jiang gave a mischievous grin and said.

"Mr. Fu, it's so late. You should rest early. I'll go ask Wang Ma where there's a spare room. If you need anything, just call me, and I'll be here in no time."

That should be fine, right? This was his foolproof plan.

Since the big boss wouldn't let him leave, in such a large villa, there must be some place for him to stay the night.

"Steward Song, I must remind you."

"Ye Qingqing lives next door to me. What if she tries to make a move on me tonight and forces her way into my room?"

"If you stay in any other empty room, you won't be able to get here in time."

Make a move on the big boss? Jeez, who would dare?

Besides, what's the lock on this door for, decoration?

Song Jiang reminded him, "Mr. Fu, just lock it. No one can get in."

"Steward Song, you've seen those TV dramas where they open doors with a hairpin, right?"

Damn, he had a point. That actually happens.

"So... Mr. Fu, what are you suggesting?"

"Tonight, you'll stand guard outside my door."

"..."

For the sake of that five-times overtime pay, Song Jiang finally brought a comfortable chair and spent the night half-lying on it outside Fu Zhichen's door.

The next morning, he shivered a couple of times.

Because the atmosphere around him felt off.

And a burning gaze was fixed on him.

Then he jolted awake.

His eyes flew open.

The big boss's face—devastatingly handsome—was right in front of him.

Hmm, he must be dreaming. Even in his dreams, evil capitalism won't leave him alone.

Song Jiang mumbled something and shut his eyes again.

In his daze, he felt something slide into his hair and give it a few rubs.

Light, gentle, a warm touch—quite comfortable.

He was barely conscious, and he rubbed against the feeling a few times.

It wasn't long.

"Steward Song, are you a pig?"

"..."

"Steward Song, you have three minutes left until work starts. Are you sure you want to keep sleeping?"

"..."

Song Jiang stirred.

Because he felt that the voice in the dream was exactly the same as the CEO's voice, so realistic and clear it was unbelievable.

"Ah."

Damn, sleeping curled up made his whole body ache.

After staring blankly at Fu Zhichen for a few seconds, Song Jiang finally realized this was the real CEO.

Forcing himself to stay calm, he put on a fake smile and greeted Fu Zhichen, "Good morning, CEO Fu."

Fu Zhichen stood with his arms crossed, watching him without moving, a slight smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

That silly little dog used to be just like this—when he wouldn't let it on the bed, it would find a comfortable spot in his room to sleep.

It would sleep deeply, never waking when he woke up.

He listened to Song Jiang's steady breathing, taking in his fair, slender face and eyelashes longer than a woman's.

He didn't have a tough look; delicate features, messy black hair, and a sleeping posture as innocent as a child's.

That's why, on a strange impulse, he had reached out to touch him.

Fu Zhichen's faint smile made Song Jiang feel like he was facing a great enemy.

The CEO always wore a scowl, and Song Jiang couldn't figure out what could have happened to make him smile.

It couldn't be anything good.

He had just gotten five times his overtime pay; the CEO wasn't going to take it back, was he?

Game over!

"CEO Fu?"

Alright, alright, ignoring the pain in his body, Song Jiang decided to make a run for it.

But he was too hasty; his feet were numb from poor circulation, and after just a few steps, he stumbled and fell.

"..."

Song Jiang lay on the ground, utterly defeated—let him die.

"Steward Song, am I some kind of freak that you run away from me?"

He's a devil.

Song Jiang didn't dare to say that.

"Haha, how could that be?"

"CEO Fu, I'll go check if breakfast is ready."

Song Jiang didn't look back, so naturally, he didn't notice the look of amusement deepening in the man's eyes behind him.

Rubbing his knee with a pained expression, he walked away.

Waking up to see the CEO first thing in the morning never bodes well.

After a quick wash, Song Jiang headed to the dining table, where Ye Qingqing and Old Madam Fu were already seated.

This Ye Qingqing was really something—Old Madam Fu's smile hadn't faded since last night.

If Tian Tian still wanted to be the CEO's wife, she had a tough competitor.

If Tian Tian gave him more money, he might consider helping her.

"Steward Song, go get the car."

???

Fu Zhichen appeared out of nowhere and said sternly, "This is the first and last time. I don't want you, Grandmother, to bring anyone to my home without my permission again."

Old Madam Fu said earnestly, "Zhichen, you're not getting any younger. I brought Qingqing here hoping you two could get to know each other more. It's for your own good."

Today, Ye Qingqing wore a translucent slip dress, barely covering anything, revealing a large expanse of skin.

It was too much to look at—Song Jiang glanced once and looked away.

This Ye Qingqing was well-prepared, a scheming woman.

After hearing Fu Zhichen's words, Ye Qingqing's eyes reddened instantly.

Tears fell immediately, making her look pitiful, as if she had suffered a great injustice.

Was this person made of plastic? So good at pretending.

"Zhichen, I'm sorry. I begged Grandmother to bring me to see you yesterday. I won't be so rash in the future."

"I did it all because I like you, Zhichen. I'm truly sincere. Can you give me a chance?"

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