Chapter 23: You’ve Really Worked Hard

Chapter 23: You've Worked So Hard

Hot.

He was hot all over.

Hotter than when he was stoking the fire on the kang in his rural hometown.

A scorching heat spread through his entire body.

Song Jiang's morning wake-up battle cry hadn't even sounded yet when he was woken up by the heat.

When he opened his eyes, he felt like the sky was falling.

Not exactly falling, though.

Because there was a massive mountain in front of him.

With this mountain above him, even if the sky fell, it wouldn't crush him—at least not yet.

Song Jiang reached out and poked it.

Rock hard.

Alright, no doubt about it—this was definitely someone's rock-hard chest.

Song Jiang froze for a few seconds, and his drowsiness vanished completely.

So how did he end up in the boss's ginormous bed, and not only that, curled up in his arms?

Did he climb up here in the middle of the night?

But he didn't sleepwalk.

Was there a ghost in the room?

Did a ghost carry him onto the bed?

Song Jiang ran through every possibility.

The most likely scenario was that he had climbed up in his sleep in the middle of the night.

Song Jiang panicked.

Think about it: an employee climbs into the boss's bed in the middle of the night—not to seduce him or sell his body—what should he do?

Luckily, the boss was still asleep.

Song Jiang didn't dare make a sound.

He squirmed like a worm on the bed, first pulling his head out of the boss's arms.

Then his body—damn, why was the boss hugging him so tight?

He wasn't a body pillow!

He really wanted to spray the boss with a mouthful of salty soda!

Let him know what happens when he hugs him!

Without waking the boss, Song Jiang squirmed left and right, struggling for a good while, but he didn't budge an inch.

He was spent.

Just as Song Jiang lay there in utter despair, taking a break before another attempt, Fu Zhichen moved.

He rolled over, and his hand slipped off Song Jiang's waist.

Now's my chance!

Song Jiang rolled toward the edge but misjudged his momentum, landing on the floor with a loud bang.

Falling flat on his face first thing in the morning—who else has that kind of luck?

Damn, his ass felt like it was about to split in two.

Song Jiang rubbed his butt and faintly heard a "pfft" of laughter.

???

Only he and the boss were in the room—he hadn't laughed, so could it be...?

Song Jiang poked his head out and stole a glance at the boss.

He was sleeping like a log, no snoring, and his breathing so light, as if he'd been put through the wash.

It must have been him hearing things from the fall.

Song Jiang comforted himself with that thought.

But now that Song Jiang was looking closely, the boss was seriously handsome—no wonder he was the male lead, a hundred times more handsome than Song Jiang.

Fu Zhichen usually wore his hair slicked back; today, a few strands had fallen casually across his forehead, and it was the first time Song Jiang had seen him like that.

His usual authority and cold aura seemed toned down right now, and it was... actually kind of nice to look at.

Song Jiang, as if under a spell, couldn't stop staring. Fu Zhichen's long lashes fluttered.

Then their eyes met, and after a few seconds of silence, Fu Zhichen spoke.

"Butler Song, what do you think you're doing?"

His voice, still rough from sleep, was especially deep and a bit husky.

Damn, it was actually kinda nice too.

Suddenly realizing what he was thinking, Song Jiang froze, and his ears turned red, clearly visible.

Uh... what was he doing? Right, what the hell was he doing?

Song Jiang was so flustered he forgot his sore ass and quickly scrambled to his feet.

"Good morning, Boss Fu. I was just checking if your fever broke."

Fu Zhichen rubbed his eyes and gave him a lazy look: "And what did you see?"

"Um... nah, not really. Better leave this to a professional."

"I'll go call your family doctor right away, Mr. Fu."

Without waiting for Fu Zhichen's reply, Song Jiang rushed out of the room like his life depended on it.

The room fell silent again. Fu Zhichen touched his forehead and slowly smirked.

*

"Steward Song, no need to rush like that, right? It's just a cold and fever."

Song Jiang dragged him upstairs before he could even button his white coat.

"Doctor, what do you mean by that?" Song Jiang said. "You haven't even examined him yet, how do you know his cold is better?"

Song Jiang thought of something and leaned in to whisper, "Are you some kind of prophet?"

The family doctor gave a helpless smile. "Steward Song, I wish I had that ability, but heaven won't let me have it."

Right. This is a world inside a book.

Nothing should be assessed by common sense. So, had the CEO's cold gotten better or not?

If he is, he should go back to the company quickly. Song Jiang was bored out of his mind in the villa.

The family doctor took Fu Zhichen's temperature in the room.

After reading the thermometer, he wore a nonchalant expression, as if he was about to say that this little bug was nothing, that he had long since recovered and was in perfect health...

Of course, that was just Song Jiang's fantasy.

"Mr. Fu, you—"

But at that moment, Fu Zhichen glanced coolly at the family doctor and raised an eyebrow.

As expected of a family doctor who had been employed by the CEO for ten years, his understanding was top-notch.

Anyway, Song Jiang had no idea what that look from the CEO meant.

The family doctor paused for a few seconds, then seemed to catch on. He adjusted his glasses. "Mr. Fu, you still have a slight fever. You need to rest, take another day off. Better have someone look after you."

With that, he looked at Song Jiang.

Before Song Jiang could protest, the family doctor let out a relieved sigh and patted Song Jiang's shoulder. "Steward Song, I'll leave this important task to you."

"..."

Damn it. Pay up, or I'm out!

The family doctor told Song Jiang to make sure Fu Zhichen took his meds on time and then left.

Fu Zhichen was particularly considerate and said, "Steward Song, you're working hard."

"..."

If yesterday Song Jiang was a bull pumped up with adrenaline, then today he was a deflated ball.

In the words of a wage earner, he was completely unmotivated.

This state lasted until the evening, when Fu Zhichen started bossing him around just like the night before.

He was really...

He could put up with it the first time, the second time too.

But the CEO should know—he was a human, not a ninja, and certainly not a turtle.

So, this had better be the last time for Fu Zhichen.

Otherwise—otherwise, he'd commit seppuku!

Song Jiang clearly remembered falling asleep on the edge of the bed last night.

But the next morning, he was woken up by the pressure of being held tight.

Song Jiang seriously thought he had some kind of hidden disease.

Why, why would he be lying in the CEO's bed again!?

Who could tell him why!?

Song Jiang was about to go crazy. The CEO outdid himself this time, wrapping his entire body in his arms.

Other than being able to breathe on his own, he couldn't move a limb.

On his crown, Fu Zhichen's steady warm breath fell.

The cool sandalwood fragrance drifted down from above. After prolonged contact, it almost took over his senses.

If he looked up at that moment, he would see the CEO's flawless face that looked perfect from every angle.

He had to admit, it was a sight for sore eyes.

But was this the time to be swooning?

When the CEO woke up and saw the two of them like this, who knows how he would put him out of his misery.

Even worse, his alarm was about to go off.

You see, he was a man of strict routine as a wage earner. For the sake of that meager full attendance reward, he had to set an alarm.

His phone should have been casually placed on the nightstand last night.

Given his actions last night, he must've put it closer to the CEO's side.

If, in this beautiful birdsong morning, his battle anthem "Good Luck Goes" suddenly blasted,

he wouldn't care—he was used to it; the anthem only pumped him up.

But disturbing the CEO's beauty sleep... what if he woke up on the wrong side of the bed?

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