Chapter 42: What Good is Your Apology to Me?

Chapter 42: What Good Is Your Apology to Me?

Song Jiang spent the day trembling, barely making it to evening.

He thought the CEO hadn’t come looking for him during the day, or maybe he’d already forgotten what happened that morning.

Now it was nearing the end of the workday.

Fu Zhichen called him into the office as usual.

The CEO didn’t speak, so Song Jiang didn’t dare to move.

On the CEO’s desk were piles of documents as high as a small mountain, though he had no clue what they were.

After standing for a few minutes, Fu Zhichen took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Steward Song, help me sort these files by year.”

“Sure.” He liked mindless tasks.

Song Jiang didn’t dare to open the files, but he caught a glimpse of a few words: account books, finances...

Was the CEO looking into the company’s finances?

When Song Jiang was halfway through sorting, Fu Zhichen suddenly spoke. “Is there anything you want to say about what happened today?”

Song Jiang’s breath caught for a second, and he almost dropped the files. What must come, will come.

“What are you referring to, CEO Fu?” Song Jiang asked, feigning ignorance.

“You’ve already forgotten what happened this morning by evening?” Fu Zhichen looked at him like he was an idiot. “Steward Song, how did you manage to get hired as my personal steward?”

Of course it was through his intelligence and wit!

Yeah, right.

Maybe he stepped in dog poop that day.

He was just an ordinary working stiff.

“I’m sorry, CEO Fu.” Song Jiang lowered his head, prepared to grovel first.

That was a hundred grand, several months’ salary.

Even if he knew the CEO would chew him out and dock his pay now, he’d do it all over again.

“Steward Song, do you think your apology is any good to me?” Fu Zhichen pressed.

“Can you eat it?”

“Or is your ‘I’m sorry’ worth its weight in gold?”

Song Jiang was at a loss for words.

He was right. It was useless. It couldn’t be eaten, nor was it worth its weight in gold.

To the CEO, it probably sounded no different from a fart.

“Steward Song, I’m curious. Why are you so obsessed with bringing women to see me?”

Now that it came down to it and the CEO had explicitly asked him, Song Jiang decided to confess honestly. Maybe the CEO could actually take advice?

Song Jiang tentatively said, “CEO Fu, don’t you find living alone lonely?”

Fu Zhichen thought it was funny. “Steward Song, where do you get the idea that I live alone and feel lonely? I have reason to suspect you’re being selectively blind. Are all the servants in my house just decorations?”

In other words, the CEO was calling him blind. But that wasn’t the kind of lonely he was talking about.

“CEO Fu, I mean someone to share your life with, care for you, help you, cook for you, and warm your bed.”

Fu Zhichen gave him a strange look. “Steward Song, aren’t those exactly the things you’re doing right now?”

...

On second thought, damn, he was right. If the CEO really found a partner, what use would a steward like him be?

Fu Zhichen said, “Steward Song, if you don’t want to work here anymore, just tell me. If you leave, plenty of people can take your place.”

The CEO was a real genius at arguing. How did setting him up with someone have anything to do with him quitting?

He didn’t want to quit such a good job.

Song Jiang quickly said, “CEO Fu, no, that’s not what I meant.”

Fu Zhichen shot back, “Then what did you mean? You can say it directly.”

After a moment, Song Jiang gathered his thoughts and spoke again.

“CEO Fu, what I mean is, you’re about to hit thirty. Old folks always say it’s hard for a man to find a suitable partner after thirty.”

The CEO was five years older than him — he was twenty-four, so the CEO was indeed about to hit thirty.

Fu Zhichen shot back, “Steward Song, I don’t know where you got that nonsense from. A man at thirty is in his prime, like a flower in full bloom.”

Fine, fine. You’re a flower in full bloom, and I’m just the green leaf that sets you off. Happy?

Fu Zhichen suddenly thought of something. “Steward Song, do you think I’m old?”

Song Jiang hesitated, afraid to speak. The age was right there at twenty-nine. Was the CEO still refusing to accept he was getting old?

Fu Zhichen seemed to read Song Jiang’s mind, half-squinting. “Steward Song, haven’t you seen it for yourself? You should know best.”

He paused. “Whether my body is old or not.”

...

It took a full minute for Song Jiang to realize what the CEO meant.

His almond eyes suddenly widened. He suspected the CEO was making an innuendo, but he had no proof!!!

What did he know? He knew jack shit!

Who could resist an aphrodisiac?!

Fu Zhichen suddenly leaned in, staring at him with pitch-black eyes that seemed to pull him in. They stared at each other, at a loss for words.

“Steward Song, why do you think I’d ever settle down with a woman?”

???

Is that not the case?

Since ancient times, men and women have lived their lives together as couples; those who are exceptions are few and far between.

Song Jiang didn't see anything wrong with it and said matter-of-factly, "President Fu, isn't it common sense for a man to like women?"

"Common sense?"

"Steward Song, you're not tall, and your vision is just as short. Don't you know a guy can like a guy too?"

Why did Boss Fu have to attack his height!!!

He was 1.78 meters, rounded up to 1.8 meters—how was that short?

Song Jiang gritted his teeth and glared at Fu Zhichen, letting out his inner roar.

Of course, he knew.

He had heard about people like that from his roommate in college, but he had never encountered it himself, so naturally, he didn't have any particular feelings about it.

Song Jiang held back the urge to argue about his height.

"So it's allowed?" he shot back at Fu Zhichen.

Fu Zhichen was still looking at him and countered, "Why isn't it okay?"

"Why isn't it okay?" Song Jiang repeated the words, mulling over Fu Zhichen's statement.

Did Boss Fu mean what I think he meant?

Did Boss Fu like men?

Then what about his six million?

Would Old Madam Fu agree to Boss Fu liking men?

No, no, that's not the point.

He should be considering whether Old Madam Fu would still give him the six million, once she knew Boss Fu didn't like women!

Song Jiang couldn't utter a word for a long time.

He didn't want to lose this job, but he also wanted that six million—wasn't there a way to have both? he thought.

Fu Zhichen took in Song Jiang's expression, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Steward Song, since you don't want to resign, then in light of your behavior today, got a problem with me docking a month's wages?"

Money talk hurts feelings! Of course, he had objections! Money was his life!

Just as Song Jiang was about to retort loudly, a knock came from the door.

"Knock, knock, knock."

"Enter."

The door opened, Mei Moyu spoke in a low voice, "President Fu, I've finished organizing the files."

"Mm, you can clock out now," Fu Zhichen said flatly.

"President Fu, I'll head out first. You should leave early too. See you tomorrow, Steward Song!" Mei Moyu, happy to be off the clock, waved to Song Jiang.

Song Jiang instinctively looked up and responded, "Slacker Bro, see you tomor—"

Before the word "tomorrow" was fully out.

Song Jiang saw something, his face went white, his vision blacked out, and he keeled over.

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