Chapter 28: Do You Know You Talk Too Much?

Chapter 28 Do You Realize You Talk Way Too Much?

Would it kill him to not be sarcastic for one day?

Come on, if you've got the guts, compare with him. I'd like to see who has bigger eyes.

Song Jiang shot a sneaky glare at Fu Zhichen.

Then he gingerly climbed onto the very edge of the bed where he had twice fallen face-first, with one at the far left and the other at the far right.

A gap like the river in Chinese chess lay between them.

Better if no one crosses the line.

Anyway, sleeping in the same bed counts as sleeping next to him, distance shouldn't be a problem.

Whoa, the CEO's big bed is surprisingly comfy.

Directly above the bed was a European-style chandelier, the kind that blinds you.

Song Jiang couldn't stand it after just a few seconds of lying down.

He yanked the covers over his head.

After a few seconds, as if suddenly remembering something, he lifted the covers and quickly said,

"Good night, Mr. Fu."

He's such a polite kid.

Yeah, let the CEO act cool and distant. Better not to talk at all in bed.

Let them just be simple, no-strings-attached bedmates.

One sheep, two sheep, three sheep...

How come he still can't fall asleep?

Before, at his rental place after work, he'd fall asleep as soon as he hit the bed, no need to even think about sleep.

But here... is his sleep quality getting worse?

Or is it because lying beside him is a jinx, a rich, stuck-up jerk, a guy with a poisonous tongue?

Fu Zhichen didn't reply to Song Jiang's good night until Song Jiang had reached the sixty-sixth sheep.

"Steward Song, do you have to chant sutras before sleeping?"

"..."

Song Jiang opened his eyes under the cold sandalwood-scented covers, his voice muffled, "Mr. Fu, I have trouble sleeping in a new bed."

And also... every breath he took was filled with the CEO's scent, which made him really uncomfortable.

Fu Zhichen snapped, "Steward Song, you better shut up. If I don't sleep well, I'll deduct it from your paycheck."

What does that have to do with him? If the CEO has a nightmare in the middle of the night and can't sleep because some ghost scared him, how is that his fault?

How could such a jerk of a CEO exist in this world?

Those writers who come up with such a petty, neurotic CEO character, do they have a screw loose?

Song Jiang didn't reply to Fu Zhichen. The CEO told him to shut up, so he kept his mouth shut.

Hmph, he'll just count sheep in his head then.

Fu Zhichen heard nothing more from beside him. Just as he was about to turn off the bedside lamp, he glanced at the little butler.

Tsk, such a tiny lump.

Even while sleeping, his mouth kept moving nonstop.

A head of fluffy hair wasn't fully covered by the blanket.

Like its owner, it mischievously stuck out, matching the fidgety movements.

Seriously.

"Steward Song, come closer."

Song Jiang had finally started to feel sleepy, and now it was gone. "Hm...?"

"Come closer. This distance doesn't help me sleep at all."

Oh, next he'll say if it doesn't help him sleep, no money. Song Jiang could already guess what the CEO wanted to say.

He reluctantly squirmed a few times.

"Mr. Fu, is this distance okay?"

"No."

Song Jiang wriggled a little more, which was really just moving a few centimeters.

"How about this?"

"What do you think?"

With his head covered, Song Jiang couldn't see outside. He only felt the blanket getting colder and colder.

Why is this CEO acting like a damn refrigerator, blasting creepy cold air?

He's nuts!

Song Jiang wriggled under the covers again.

"This distance..." Before Song Jiang could finish speaking,

A strong, powerful arm snaked around his waist under the covers and yanked him effortlessly to one side!

Song Jiang's eyes went wide under the covers. Hell!

Is that CEO really that strong with one hand? He feels like the CEO is picking him up like a little chick.

This move by Fu Zhichen totally threw Song Jiang off.

He didn't even have a chance to resist.

Song Jiang's fingers gripped the sheets beneath him, his body trembling slightly. The air under the covers was already stuffy, and now he was suffocating.

In seconds, his back pressed against a blazing hot body, his hand resting on his waist and abdomen, they were so close that he could even hear the other's heartbeat.

No, that's strange.

How could someone be so hot on the outside yet give off such freezing cold?

"Mr. Fu... this..."

"This isn't in the contract, right?"

Fu Zhichen's impatient voice came from above his head.

"Don't move."

"Do you know how annoying you're being?"

"The contract's clear, Steward Song. If you think I'm breaking the rules, go read it again."

He didn't have a photographic memory; how could he remember so much dense fine print?

"But Mr. Fu... this distance is too close... doesn't it say that Party A cannot force physical closeness with Party B?"

Fu Zhichen's voice turned colder, "Steward Song, I'll say it again: go read the contract. I don't want to talk about this now—I'm trying to sleep."

"..."

Oh, he just can't stand the sight of me.

For the money, I'll endure it!

It's just hugging anyway! Once the boss falls asleep, I'll slip to the edge of the bed!

He's being yanked around like a dog, unable to move, with no say or power at all.

But he couldn't just stifle under the covers, could he?

"Mr. Fu, I can't breathe—let me move..."

"Mr. Fu... please, let me move."

Fu Zhichen clicked his tongue, and as if he'd been waiting for it, he lifted Song Jiang out from under the covers.

Song Jiang finally got his head out and gulped a few big breaths of fresh air.

The room was pitch black.

Fu Zhichen felt something with his hand, and his tone was slightly disdainful, "Steward Song, wearing such cheap clothes, aren't you worried about getting a rash?"

"..."

Shoddy my foot! He bought it at a night market for twenty yuan apiece!

It was much more expensive than Pinduoduo! It stung for ages!

His clothes couldn't compare to the boss's, but I really don't have a skin condition! I had to stand up for myself.

"Mr. Fu, my skin is actually quite good."

Maybe because he moved too much just now, Song Jiang's tank top rode up, leaving a small section of his waist exposed.

And Fu Zhichen's large hand happened to be right on top of it.

Song Jiang was like... ah...

He couldn't stand anyone touching his waist.

Song Jiang moved a little, trying to pull the clothes down.

"Steward Song, don't move. I don't want to repeat myself."

"..."

Song Jiang said seriously, "Mr. Fu, my waist is a bit cold."

Fu Zhichen: "Steward Song, I suggest you don't lie through your teeth. You've got a blanket on you."

"But I still feel my waist is quite cold..."

Fu Zhichen yanked his clothes down.

"Stop messing around, Steward Song. If you can't get up tomorrow, don't expect me to wake you."

Fine, don't wake me—my alarm will go off anyway.

"Mr. Fu, I won't move. Can you get to sleep like this?"

"Steward Song, do you realize you talk way too much?"

Fu Zhichen tightened his arms, as if to warn him, "You keep squirming, talking, making noise. Do you think I can fall asleep?"

"..."

Fine, I shut up. Everything was my fault anyway.

After a while, Fu Zhichen could clearly feel the person in his arms breathing slowly even out.

The young steward was asleep.

Just now, most of the young steward's waist was bare, warm and smooth.

His skin really was nice.

When he pulled the clothes down for him, his fingertips brushed along his waist.

The young steward's body was trembling a little.

A grown man, that sensitive?

He looked decent enough in a suit at work, but without it, he was all skin and bones.

In his arms, he was smaller than his pillow.

Tsk, where did all the salary I pay him go?

So thin—feels all bony.

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