Chapter 33: If You Leave, How Will I Sleep?

Chapter 33: If You Leave, How Will I Sleep?

After the CEO finished his scathing remarks, he told Song Jiang to leave.

The mousse cake that had been in his hands was gone, and Song Jiang was down in the dumps all morning.

If only he’d had a chance to get into the office, he would have fished that mousse cake out of the trash.

Mom always said waste not, want not.

Song Jiang entered the office again at noon, when the CEO called him to taste the dishes.

In Song Jiang's eyes, that was like 200,000 yuan on legs!

Song Jiang took a couple of deep breaths. It's okay, it's okay. For the money, he wouldn't hold a grudge against the CEO over a cake.

Song Jiang comforted himself three times before knocking and entering.

"CEO Fu, are you having lunch now?"

"Yeah."

Only after receiving the command did Song Jiang walk toward the table where the lunchboxes were placed.

But when he saw what was in front of him, his footsteps froze instantly.

Wait, was he hallucinating? There was a cake box on the table... Had the CEO fished it back out?

Song Jiang glanced back at the cold, expressionless CEO. No way, had the CEO stooped to trash-picking too?

He decided to see through it without saying a word; if he pointed it out, it would definitely make the CEO lose face.

Better just focus on tasting the dishes.

Song Jiang sat down and looked at the cilantro that had appeared again in the lunchbox, frowning.

Something was off. The chef could have made a mistake the first time, but a second time...?

Song Jiang felt he had to ask.

"CEO Fu, didn't you tell your chef that you don't eat cilantro?"

Fu Zhichen raised his eyes to look at him. "Steward Song, that's your job."

"If I have to tell the chef about such a trivial matter, then what use are you?"

"..."

Fine, he was being scolded without any investigation.

He had to stand up for himself, even if just for the sake of dignity.

"But CEO Fu, I don't have the contact information of the chef who cooks for you."

Implied meaning: This wasn't his fault.

Fu Zhichen said coldly, "If you don't know, Steward Song, why didn't you ask me?"

"But I wasn't aware that the chef would add it this time either." He wasn't a prophet.

"Steward Song, that's no excuse for your mistake."

"CEO Fu, then I..."

Song Jiang wanted to say that he could just pick it out now.

But the CEO didn't give him the chance and interrupted him.

"Steward Song, a mistake is a mistake. Do you still want to talk back to me?"

"..."

OK, there was no reasoning with someone as unreasonable as the CEO. He'd say no more.

Song Jiang lowered his head. "I'm sorry, CEO Fu. I'll know better next time."

After they finished lunch, Song Jiang was about to leave.

"Steward Song, I'm going to take a nap."

Oh, go ahead. Eat then sleep, sleep then eat. Perfect.

So comfortable, just like a pig.

He was tired too. He planned to take a nice nap at his little desk later.

"Very well, CEO Fu. I'll draw the curtains for you."

Song Jiang went to the CEO's exclusive nap room, prepared everything for sleeping, and then wheeled the CEO inside.

"CEO Fu, rest well. I'll head out now."

Fu Zhichen watched Song Jiang, who had already reached the door, and reminded him, "Steward Song, a nap is also sleep."

What did he mean? Of course he knew it was sleep.

Then Fu Zhichen's next words stunned him.

"That's covered in the sleep-companion contract."

"..."

Song Jiang might really need to carefully read that sleep-companion contract.

Read it with a magnifying glass.

Damn, he couldn't tell whether the CEO was telling the truth or not. If there were terms like selling him off included in the contract, what then?

If he really got sold, would the CEO fool him into counting the money for him?

The thought was terrifying.

Fu Zhichen was sure Song Jiang wouldn't leave, so he said casually, "Steward Song, bring me my pajamas."

Song Jiang indeed hadn't left. Muttering to himself, he opened the wardrobe in the nap room.

For a million, he'd accept it.

Rich people were so particular. They even changed into pajamas for a nap.

We working stiffs are lucky if we even get a desk to nap on.

He still remembered back in the day, during his most sleep-deprived days in school, sitting in his seat without any support—no way he'd fall, just close his eyes and sleep.

And he'd sleep like a log.

Unlike the big boss, who had it made—not just a bed, but him as a sleeping buddy.

Song Jiang handed the clothes to Fu Zhichen and was about to step out to wait for the boss to finish changing when—

Jeez, the boss didn't even bother hiding from him and started taking off his suit jacket.

"Butler Song, I don't like people sleeping on my bed in their outer clothes."

Hmph, he didn't even want to go up there anyway.

The two days he'd slept with the boss, every morning he woke up feeling all sticky.

He had to shower every morning before heading out, seriously.

What a waste of time.

"Mr. Fu, but I don't have pajamas at the office," Song Jiang said. "Why don't you just take a nap by yourself today?"

Damn, why did he feel like he was talking a kindergartner into sleeping, telling him to go to bed on his own?

This is completely ridiculous.

Fu Zhichen didn't pause in unbuttoning his clothes, looking at him unhurriedly. "Butler Song, if you leave, how am I supposed to sleep?"

Good question.

Can't sleep in outer clothes, yet insists on him staying, huh—was he supposed to strip completely naked?

Fu Zhichen added, "Since you don't have any, Butler Song, grab something from my closet."

Wear the boss's clothes?

No way—that cool sandalwood scent would suffocate him.

Song Jiang made one last attempt to resist.

"Mr. Fu, your lunch break isn't that long. I guarantee no one will bother you. Just relax, you'll definitely fall asleep."

As he spoke, Fu Zhichen had already unbuttoned three buttons on his shirt.

"Butler Song, do you know how much my pajamas cost? You can't even buy them outside."

Fu Zhichen acted like a saint. "And here I am letting you wear them for free, and you don't appreciate it."

So should he get down on his knees, kowtow, and burn incense to thank the boss!?

"Fine, Mr. Fu."

Song Jiang quickly turned to open the closet, not daring to say another word or hesitate a second.

He must be losing his mind.

Song Jiang didn't dare look back. After grabbing a set of pajamas at random, he was about to head to the bathroom to change.

Fu Zhichen called him back. "Butler Song, where are you going?"

Hearing the rustling of clothes behind him, Song Jiang hunched his shoulders. "Mr. Fu, I'm going to change into pajamas."

"Butler Song, we're both men—no need to be so formal."

Song Jiang nervously swallowed, his fingers gripping the pajamas tightly.

He said nothing, but Fu Zhichen kept talking on his own.

"I didn't hide from you when I changed, Butler Song. Isn't it unfair for you to hide from me?"

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