Chapter 65: If You Don’t Obey, I’ll Lock You Up

Chapter 65: If You Don't Behave, I'll Lock You Up

No way!

If he were the emperor, then the CEO would be the emperor's father.

Always one step ahead of him, completely out of reach.

Song Jiang quietly took back the ceramic spoon he was eating with from Fu Zhichen's hand.

He could read the CEO's mood: impatience. He was impatient with him.

Sure enough, everything changes—a man's heart is like the ocean, hard to read.

I guess the CEO's feeding-him trial was over.

After dinner, Fu Zhichen went to the study, while Song Jiang chatted with Aunt Wang in the living room.

They started from what Aunt Wang did on her first day off, and she even told him how many eggs her chickens laid.

But Song Jiang loved every bit of it.

Aunt Wang's stories about the countryside felt oddly familiar to Song Jiang.

He was a kid from the mountains too.

Soon it was nine o'clock.

With his hand bandaged up like a bun, Song Jiang wondered how he'd wash his hair and take a shower.

Washing his hair was fine—short hair could be rinsed with water, and he could do it with one hand.

But what about a shower?

The CEO had serious OCD—if he didn't shower, he'd probably kick him out.

Song Jiang finished washing his hair and dried it with a towel, still clueless.

Fu Zhichen called out from the bedroom, "Steward Song, come over to change the dressing."

Wow, the CEO actually remembered.

Song Jiang didn't blow-dry his hair, leaving it damp. He just tossed the towel over his head and walked out.

When he got to the little sofa in the bedroom, Fu Zhichen had already laid out the gauze, cotton swabs, and other items needed for changing the dressing.

Song Jiang closed his eyes and extended his right hand. "Mr. Fu, you could've asked Aunt Wang to do this."

(Aunt Wang's way better than you—she wouldn't make it look like a bun.)

"Steward Song, what gave you the courage to say such a thing—that you despise me?"

(Courage? Hah, it came from Liang Jingru of course.)

Fu Zhichen's voice carried a hint of anger, but his hand was gentle when pulling Song Jiang's.

"Mr. Fu, I never said I despised you." (Your bandaging sucks—can't I say that?)

"Steward Song, you're the first person to say such a thing—despising me—right in front of me."

As Fu Zhichen spoke, his fingertips gently traced over Song Jiang's knuckles, and he snorted with a laugh, "Should I commend your bravery?"

Oh my god, that's bold!

When the CEO loses his temper, the first person he'll teach a lesson is him!

Song Jiang shut his mouth immediately.

He couldn't see Fu Zhichen's expression, but that laugh felt loaded, and not in a good way.

So Song Jiang gently shook the hand holding his, and said softly, "Mr. Fu, are you angry?"

"Don't be mad at me, okay?"

"It's just really inconvenient with this bandage—I didn't say you did a bad job."

The usually boisterous little steward... was he actually acting cute?

Fu Zhichen paused in his movements and lifted his eyes to look at Song Jiang.

The white towel was draped over his head, with the excess naturally falling on both sides of his neck.

With that pleading look on his face, he looked like a soft, cute bunny.

Maybe from washing his hair, his cheeks were flushed.

That blush on his fair skin looked really tempting. Drops of water from the tips of his hair dripped onto his face, like a fruit that just ripened in the morning sun, making you want to take a bite out of him.

Hearing no response from Fu Zhichen, Song Jiang used his good hand to squeeze Fu Zhichen's palm and even scratched it a little.

"Mr. Fu, are you done bandaging?"

Then, it felt like Fu Zhichen's heart got knocked a few times too. He swallowed involuntarily, and after a moment, he answered, "Almost done."

Still not sure if the CEO was mad, Song Jiang cracked one eye open to peek.

Fu Zhichen finished the bandaging and, as he looked up, caught Song Jiang's guilty look.

A flicker of tenderness passed through his eyes. "Go get the hairdryer."

Huh?

Wasn't the CEO's hair already dry?

Song Jiang was confused—until Fu Zhichen made him sit on the carpet, then he got it.

The CEO was actually going to blow-dry his hair!

Ahh! He was genuinely moved. Song Jiang almost cried, turning back to look at Fu Zhichen as if he were a saint.

Fu Zhichen barely held his gaze before covering his eyes with his hand, his voice a bit off. "Steward Song, stop looking at me like that."

Song Jiang figured his acting was so bad the CEO couldn't stand it.

He said "okay" obediently and sat still while Fu Zhichen ran his fingers through his hair.

The warm air from the hairdryer and Fu Zhichen's uncharacteristically gentle movements.

The room's light bathed them both, making everything look so harmonious.

Fu Zhichen said out of nowhere, "Steward Song, don't ever look at anyone else with that expression."

?

Song Jiang thought he misheard—what expression was that supposed to be?

A moment later, Song Jiang didn't respond, and Fu Zhichen punished him by pointing the dryer nozzle at his ear.

The air, mixed with Fu Zhichen's low voice, hit his ear, making it tingle and go numb.

"Did you hear me?"

"If you don't listen, I'll lock you up."

Song Jiang couldn't stop a shiver; he heard those last three words clearly.

Hey, is this 911?

There's a kidnapping going on here!

Song Jiang just thought Fu Zhichen was acting weird. He didn't think much of it, still wondering how to shower with one hand.

After Fu Zhichen finished drying his hair, the best idea he came up with was to bed down on the floor or the couch tonight.

At least he was staying in the room, so that should still help the CEO sleep.

When Song Jiang spread the blanket on the floor, Fu Zhichen put down his magazine, scowling at him.

"Steward Song, have you lost your mind?"

"Why sleep on the floor when there's a perfectly nice big bed?"

Fu Zhichen then said, "Steward Song, I'm definitely not sleeping on the floor."

???

He didn't have water in his brain.

He'd love to sleep in the big bed, but he was afraid he'd get kicked out for not showering.

And he didn't ask the CEO to sleep on the floor with him—the CEO's noble self sleeping on the floor just wouldn't fit his style.

"CEO Fu, my hand is..." Song Jiang raised his hand, pausing. He wanted to say his hand was wrapped up like a steamed bun again, but he was afraid the CEO would think he was badmouthing his bandaging skills.

So he changed his wording, "With my hand like this, I can't shower."

Fu Zhichen paused, naturally understanding what Song Jiang meant. "So what, Steward Song?"

"So, CEO Fu, I'll sleep on the floor." Song Jiang pointed to the floor, then to himself.

"Please don't mind me, just call me if you need anything."

Fu Zhichen expressionless, "Steward Song, did I say you could sleep on the floor?"

Song Jiang asked tentatively, "CEO Fu, then should I sleep on the couch?"

"The couch can't hold two people."

Now he wondered if the CEO had lost his mind—he hadn't asked the CEO to sleep on the floor or couch with him!

Did he have to spell it out so clearly for the CEO to understand?

"CEO Fu, I meant I haven't showered. I'll sleep by myself, you sleep by yourself."

OK? Was that clear enough?

Song Jiang pouted, glaring angrily at Fu Zhichen, but Fu Zhichen completely ignored him and said calmly.

"Steward Song, did I say you can't sleep on the bed?"

"..."

In the end.

Song Jiang changed into his pajamas and finally got into bed.

Since the CEO didn't mind, what more could he say?

The soft, bouncy big bed was way better than the hard floor, wasn't it?

But now a new problem arose.

Fu Zhichen hugged him every night to sleep, and with his injured hand, if he lay on his side with his back to Fu Zhichen, it would definitely get pressed.

Song Jiang was already lying down and poked the man who was sitting half-up in bed holding a magazine. He wanted to negotiate with the CEO.

"CEO Fu, could you not do that tonight?"

Fu Zhichen glanced at him. "Steward Song, not do what?"

"Um." Song Jiang paused, his face a bit red. "That is, holding me. That would press on my hand."

Fu Zhichen maintained his posture. "Steward Song, what if I say no?"

Song Jiang knew the CEO wouldn't be easy to deal with, but he still had one more idea.

"Then let's switch sides."

"Steward Song, I'm used to sleeping on my side."

Song Jiang,

He clenched his fist under the blanket and bit his lip, fuming but helpless.

Seeing this little butler about to blow his top, Fu Zhichen couldn't help but smirk and put the magazine back on the nightstand.

"Steward Song, I have a great idea."

Song Jiang instinctively asked, "What?"

Fu Zhichen shut off the light and lay down, sliding his hand under Song Jiang's neck, pulling him easily into his arms.

Then he turned Song Jiang's head, their eyes met in the darkness like two stars in the vast night sky that had finally found each other.

"Face me and put your hand on my back."

Fu Zhichen spoke as he moved, and before Song Jiang could say anything, he had already placed his hand over Song Jiang's injured one. "Like this."

He raised an eyebrow at him and asked, "Understand?"

Song Jiang blinked, somewhat at a loss, his injured hand still suspended in the air.

If he put his hand down, it felt wrong.

If he kept it hovering, that also felt wrong.

As far as he could remember, this was the first time they had been in such a position, so...

So close.

Like intimate lovers or a couple sleeping in each other's arms.

Their breathing in sync, their hearts beating in unison.

He could even clearly feel the vibration of Fu Zhichen's chest as he spoke; he dropped his gaze and heard Fu Zhichen say again.

"Steward Song, you're so stupid."

*

Good news: I escaped the dark room and quickly wrote 2,800 words to get everyone hyped. There will be another chapter tonight.

Bad news: ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ Yang Tomato actually secretly gave me a rating while you were away. Boo hoo hoo, so unfair, it's way too low.

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