Chapter 69: Does Your Hand Hurt?

Chapter 69: Does Your Hand Hurt

No.

That's not what he meant.

Song Jiang couldn't see what he looked like at that moment, but Fu Zhichen's remark about looking like "a boiled duck" was probably not wrong.

He felt like his whole body was on fire.

Yet Fu Zhichen's lips still lingered near his earlobe, the warm scent of cool sandalwood continuously wafting over that sensitive spot.

He felt as if he was about to explode.

"President Fu, I..."

Song Jiang hung his head. He didn't know where to look—at Fu Zhichen's exposed skin or not—so he simply closed his eyes.

His voice was muffled, with a pleading tone, "President Fu, could you please move away from my ear?"

Fu Zhichen ignored him, changing the subject, "Steward Song, has anyone ever told you that your ears are very beautiful?"

Song Jiang shook his head slightly.

How could anyone? Only this perverted CEO, who would have nothing better to do than study his ears?

Their movements resembled the intimate nuzzling of lovers.

Fu Zhichen let out a low chuckle, lowering his voice with a hint of seduction.

"Steward Song, there's a mole below your earlobe. It looks tempting."

Song Jiang somehow felt Fu Zhichen was about to say, "I want to take a bite."

Song Jiang quickly reached up to cover his ear.

He couldn't help but mutter inwardly, how terrifying—this Fu Zhichen must have some weird fetish.

A tempting mole? What a joke.

And he didn't even know there was a mole there himself.

All he wanted now was to escape, to get off his lap.

"President Fu, you..." His voice was faint, "What do I have to do for you to let me go?"

Fu Zhichen's large hand seemed magical. Without knowing how it happened, Song Jiang found his head, which had been buried in Fu Zhichen's shoulder, being moved away from his shoulder.

He still hadn't opened his eyes, but he felt the warm breath move from his ear to his face.

The hand in his hair traced along his features, from his forehead downward, pausing at the corner of his eye, with a hint of teasing.

Fu Zhichen spoke softly, "Steward Song, open your eyes first."

"No." Song Jiang refused without thinking. Open his eyes to look at Fu Zhichen?

To look at their awkward position?

He didn't have the courage.

Fu Zhichen's tone suddenly turned serious, "Steward Song, I'm giving you a chance. Are you sure you don't want it?"

A chance to be let go?

Song Jiang hesitated for a few seconds, then slowly opened his eyes, trembling, opening them just a crack.

Because he had squeezed his eyes shut so tightly, his vision was blurry at first.

Fu Zhichen's hand still stroked the corner of his eye, unhurried, silent.

When Song Jiang fully opened his eyes, he met his eyes—deep, calm, like black vortexes—staring directly at him.

In those deep eyes burned with an unmistakable, intense desire.

The young steward's eyes were reddened as if he had suffered great injustice, his fair skin now dusted with a layer of pink.

His watery, misty almond eyes were just like a rabbit's.

Such a sight only made one want to commit a crime more.

Fu Zhichen's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, his breathing heavy, ink-black waves surging in his gaze.

He clearly wanted to kiss him, to torment him further, but he held back.

He hadn't done anything serious to the young steward yet, but the young steward's body was trembling—he was afraid.

Afraid of him.

"Steward Song, if you button up my shirt for me, I'll let you go."

Song Jiang's long lashes fluttered rapidly. He didn't really believe him, but his whole body felt numb, and he had no choice but to obey.

His nervousness made his fingertips inevitably brush against Fu Zhichen's chest.

Fu Zhichen was still watching him. Song Jiang unconsciously pressed his lips together.

Fortunately, after he made contact, Fu Zhichen didn't react noticeably, though his breathing became heavier.

Song Jiang didn't notice or care; his thoughts were completely jumbled.

It took him several minutes to button the shirt. His tie had fallen to the floor; he wanted to pick it up.

But Fu Zhichen grabbed his wrist and said in a hoarse voice, "That's enough."

The moment Fu Zhichen released his grip, Song Jiang punched him hard a few times on the chest, then fled as if his life depended on it.

As he left, he thought he saw Fu Zhichen smiling again.

Smiling at what? At how amusing it was to tease him?

Sure enough, rich capitalists are all bad news.

Song Jiang ran straight to the restroom, locked the door, washed his hands, and splashed cold water on his face repeatedly.

He only stopped when his skin stung from rubbing it too much.

At first, he leaned against the wall, but his legs gave out, and he sank to the floor.

He buried his face in his hands. For a long time, his heart wouldn't calm down.

Why did Fu Zhichen treat him like that just now?

Was he out of his mind today?

Saying he likes even numbers?

He just wouldn't believe it.

He always felt it was a deliberate attempt to take advantage of him.

Recalling that smile from just now, he had to admit it was very special.

When he smiled, his features were handsome, like moonlight on a lake after rain, like melting mountain snow, like the warmest spring sunshine.

It gently brushed against his heart, instantly dispelling all gloom, leaving him inexplicably warm inside.

Fu Zhichen, you should smile more in the future.

...

Song Jiang didn't know how to act around Fu Zhichen, so during the day he never said more than a single word to him.

He just nodded, "Mm," "Ah," "Oh."

That evening, back at the villa,

Song Jiang removed the bandage from his hand.

Even if Fu Zhichen didn't mind, he couldn't stand going two days without a bath.

He thought of a solution: wrapping his hand in a plastic glove so it wouldn't get wet.

Taking advantage of Fu Zhichen being in the study, Song Jiang showered and dried his hair as fast as he possibly could, then lay down on the bed and closed his eyes.

He felt he couldn't go on like the previous two nights.

Sleeping face-to-face, wrapped in each other's arms, leaving hickeys on the neck, and even sitting on the lap and whispering into his ear...

It was too strange, really too strange.

Aren't those things couples do when they're in the honeymoon phase?

They weren't a couple; they just had a normal employer-employee relationship.

He couldn't understand why.

Could it be that the CEO has a split personality?

One is a cold-blooded, ruthless, emotionless monster, the other is a kind-hearted, conscientious good person?

Song Jiang soon fell asleep amid these wild thoughts.

When Fu Zhichen returned to the room, he found Song Jiang wrapped in several layers of a blanket, like a zongzi.

Except for a few strands of black hair, not even his ankles were visible.

He was so defensive against him.

...

...

The next day, Song Jiang woke up in the morning feeling suffocated.

It was really stuffy.

Wrapping himself in the quilt was indeed a good idea.

At least he didn't have to worry about Fu Zhichen touching him, but he was the one who suffered.

Unable to move all night, his body was as stiff as a mummy.

He didn't believe that Fu Zhichen could still...

Before he could finish the thought, his numb hands, which he'd just freed from the blanket, were suddenly grabbed.

And something pulled tight around his waist.

Fu Zhichen's eyes were still half-closed, his mind hazy. "Steward Song, are you an idiot?"

?

Scolding him first thing in the morning?

"Does your hand hurt?"

Song Jiang was completely baffled. What did he mean by that?

It didn't hurt, but after staying in the same position all night, his hand had gone completely numb.

Haha, he was really unlucky. Maybe this was what he got for his own stupidity.

Song Jiang didn't answer. Fu Zhichen's big hand pulled his hand into the only gap between their bodies.

His thumb and index finger massaged his joints.

?

This sudden tenderness first thing in the morning was very un-CEO-like.

Song Jiang was completely stunned.

Fu Zhichen, though still half-asleep, had sensed his movements, knew his hand would be numb, and was now even massaging it for him.

No, this was very wrong.

Everything was wrong.

He should be helping the CEO find a partner, get the six million, and earn a full hundred million so he could leave.

He shouldn't get stuck here, and he couldn't afford to.

*

Sorry, buddies, I'm feeling very unwell today. My stomach hurts so much I'm breaking out in cold sweats. I don't know if I can write more tonight. Wuwuwu, I'll take some medicine and once I feel better, I'll write!

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