Chapter 95: Ungrateful Little Thing

Chapter 95: Little Ingrate

Song Jiang stood at the doorway of the room, his hands clenching at his sides, stubbornly shaking his head.

Fu Zhichen squinted at him. "A disobedient steward will lose all his salary."

Song Jiang hesitated for a moment, then refused again. "No."

He was a little scared—what if the CEO actually kissed him?

And the CEO even told him to take off his clothes? He didn't have any muscles, his body wasn't good, what was the point? What was there to look at?

Fu Zhichen frowned, as if not expecting this trick to work on Song Jiang.

The bedding had already been pulled back. Fu Zhichen jerked his chin toward the bed and said gently, "Steward Song, I'm just helping you put on the ointment."

Only then did Song Jiang's gaze shift to the bed—it was the ointment that had been on his mind all day.

He regretted it; he should have hidden it away.

The pressure of standing between Fu Zhichen's legs earlier had been intense. But Fu Zhichen's gentle voice now helped him breathe easier, somewhat calming his flustered mind.

He thought the boss was going to make him do something weird when he told him to undress...

Song Jiang murmured, "It's okay if you don't apply it, CEO Fu. I took other pills, and I can control myself."

Fu Zhichen remained insistent. "Applying the ointment will help you recover faster. I don't want you to be sick for long."

Song Jiang interpreted this as: the boss didn't need a chronically sick, useless person around. Capitalism wouldn't keep anyone useless for long.

Thinking this, Song Jiang felt a stir of emotion, but he still had concerns. Of course he knew applying ointment would speed up recovery, but the feeling of being held down and restrained by Fu Zhichen was very unpleasant.

"Unless you promise not to do what you did earlier..." Song Jiang stammered.

Fu Zhichen looked at him expressionlessly. "Steward Song, I haven't done anything inappropriate to you for now."

After saying this, Fu Zhichen's mouth turned down, as if a nerve had been touched.

Song Jiang didn't dare say anything more. He shuffled over to the bed with tiny steps, lay on his stomach, legs together, properly.

Then he said very seriously to Fu Zhichen, "I can only reach the spots on my back that need ointment. Just help me with my back; I can do the rest myself."

Fu Zhichen stared intently at Song Jiang, his gaze so intense it could burn a hole through someone.

He seemed about to say something, but didn't. In the end he just nodded, "Mm."

Soon Song Jiang's pajamas were lifted up, and a wave of cold seeped into his skin. He couldn't help but shiver.

His back, never before seen by anyone, was exposed. He felt a strange, indescribable feeling inside.

Song Jiang clutched the bedsheet beneath him and said tentatively, "CEO Fu, could you hurry up? I'm cold."

Fu Zhichen grabbed a pillow and handed it to Song Jiang, then covered the area below his waist with the blanket. After doing this, he asked:

"Steward Song, how about now?"

It's warmer.

Fu Zhichen must have switched to a different personality. This Fu Zhichen was considerate and gentle.

Song Jiang buried his face—bright red, as if about to bleed—into the pillow and gave a muffled "Mm."

Soon he realized the pillow was Fu Zhichen's.

He smelled a faint scent—something that had long absorbed a certain fragrance. It was subtle, but it carried Fu Zhichen's distinct masculine presence.

Song Jiang had the illusion, as if he were lying entirely on top of Fu Zhichen, holding him tight and not letting go.

Knowing that such impure thoughts were very dangerous, Song Jiang's heart was in complete chaos; his earlobes and even his neck turned red.

He regretted it.

He shouldn't have agreed to let Fu Zhichen apply the ointment.

He was just making himself suffer.

Neither of them spoke in the room. In this environment, Song Jiang's senses were heightened.

He could distinctly feel Fu Zhichen using just the tip of his index finger to apply the ointment.

Fu Zhichen seemed to be handling some rare treasure, his movements unbelievably gentle.

Each application, each touch of Fu Zhichen's fingertip on his back, was like a leaf falling onto his body—light, brushing against him, then gone.

Either way, the spots his fingertip touched no longer itched. Instead, they felt refreshing—not the biting cold of ice, but a soothing comfort like a cool breeze on a hot summer night.

As the ointment dried, a faint medicinal scent filled the air around them.

After the application was done, Song Jiang wanted to pull his shirt down, but Fu Zhichen grabbed his wrist to stop him.

"Let it air dry."

Fine.

After saying this, Fu Zhichen's large hand moved up and touched Song Jiang's fingertips.

"Steward Song, your hands are very cold."

No kidding—of course they're cold after a cold shower.

Song Jiang tried to pull his hand back, but he wasn't fast enough—Fu Zhichen's hand quickly enveloped his.

Fu Zhichen took his hand and brought them both down to rest between themselves.

The large hand steadily transferred warmth to him, and his hand quickly warmed up.

Song Jiang was a bit stunned by Fu Zhichen's gesture and instinctively struggled a little.

Unsurprisingly, Fu Zhichen didn't let go.

He could rarely resist Fu Zhichen over small things. After an internal struggle, he decided it was better to just let it be.

Having someone else warm his hands was actually pretty comfortable.

His back was still exposed to Fu Zhichen's penetrating gaze, and he felt the shame of being stripped naked.

"CEO Fu, can you please stop looking?"

"Why?"

Song Jiang buried his head in the crook of his arm, muttering, "I... I'm scared."

Fu Zhichen didn't respond immediately. After a while, the bed bounced heavily several times as someone lay down beside him.

Then, that intense gaze shifted from his back to his face.

Fu Zhichen reached out and ruffled Song Jiang's hair, asking him.

"Steward Song, are you really that afraid of me?"

Song Jiang hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded, and quickly shook his head.

Which employee isn't afraid of their boss?

And everything Fu Zhichen did today went against normal logic.

Was it because he was approaching thirty and was just too pent-up?

Song Jiang's mind was racing, and he finally reached a conclusion.

Fu Zhichen was lonely, and he urgently needed to find a suitable and compatible partner.

He had to speed up finding Fu Zhichen a partner.

While Song Jiang was lost in his thoughts, Fu Zhichen turned onto his side, rubbing and stroking his earlobe with his thumb and index finger, not bothered if he answered or not.

Song Jiang had no idea what Fu Zhichen meant.

He didn't dare look up at Fu Zhichen's face, and he didn't want to ask either.

He really felt that being treated with such care by Fu Zhichen was really nice.

Sleepiness quickly washed over him. He didn't remember when his clothes had been loosened.

Someone covered him with the blanket, but his waist was still cold, and the quilt was chilly too. He curled into a ball.

He desperately needed warmth. He had to find his sun.

Luckily, the sun is always shining and giving off heat. He felt his way toward the source of the warmth.

Soon, he reached out and clung to his sun, couldn't help but snuggle up and rub against it.

The sun hugged him back and gently tapped his nose, and he heard the sun say.

"You little rascal, only come looking for me when you're cold."

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˶⍤⃝˶꒳ᵒ꒳ Woo-hoo, woo-hoo! Happy weekend, buddies!!!

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