Chapter 101: For You

Chapter 101: For You

A fried dough stick.

The CEO's trademark possessiveness was acting up again.

He'd only been gone for less than half an hour, and he was chatting so enthusiastically with others, but he wouldn't let him talk to his friends!

Song Jiang was furious, but all he could do was stomp his foot, quickly forcing a smile back on his face. "Mr. Fu, I was just worried about my friend and went to check on him."

If your charm hadn't made Tian Tian so hung up on you, would I be in this situation?

Fu Zhichen was about to say something when Wen Zhong suddenly came over with a round tray, said respectfully to Fu Zhichen.

"Mr. Fu, I've brought the cake you requested."

Fu Zhichen tilted his head and gestured, "For you."

What?

Who's the CEO talking to?

He's already being this nice to that guy with glasses they just met?

Wen Zhong, thinking the words were for him, felt a rush of joy.

"Mr. Fu, I don't really like sweets, but since you offered, I'll..."

Before he could finish, Fu Zhichen shot him a cold glance and cut him off sharply.

"Mr. Wen sure knows how to flatter himself, doesn't he?"

Then he shifted his gaze to Song Jiang and raised an eyebrow. "You dumb?"

"Eat up. We're heading home after."

Ah, well, Song Jiang looked at Fu Zhichen with a "Is this really for me? Can I really get this?" expression.

Wen Zhong froze, his hand with the cake hovering awkwardly in the air. He looked up, finally noticing Song Jiang, and asked in confusion.

"Mr. Fu, this is the person who was disrespectful to you earlier and forced the microphone on you."

Fu Zhichen showed no emotion, lightly tapping his fingers on the armrest. "Mr. Wen, he's my man."

"I allow him to be impolite in front of me. You're the one meddling."

Wen Zhong's fingers tightened on the plate. He'd only been back in the country a few days and didn't know much about this Mr. Fu.

Meeting Fu Zhichen today was something his father forced on him.

His well-meaning help was called meddling, which left him feeling resentful.

Seeing Wen Zhong at a loss, Song Jiang couldn't help smirking.

His expression seemed to say, "Hmph, you called me rude. Didn't expect I've got backup, did you?"

Without hesitation, he took the cake from Wen Zhong, gave him a quick glance, and said with a proud little look, "Hand it over, it's for me."

A flicker of cunning flashed in Wen Zhong's eyes, but he quickly composed himself, a gentle smile on his face.

"Young man, if my earlier words offended you, I'm sorry."

Since they were all Fu Zhichen's business partners, Song Jiang knew better than to hold a grudge. He took a bite of the cake and replied with a smile, "It's fine."

At this birthday party, Song Jiang only knew Chu Yan and Tian Tian, and since neither was there, there was no reason to stay.

The two of them drove back to the villa.

Song Jiang gave the leftover cake to Aunt Wang to try, then went to wash up. When he got back to the bedroom, Fu Zhichen had already changed into his pajamas and was sitting on the bed.

Fu Zhichen looked up as Song Jiang came in, put down his magazine, and lifted the corner of the blanket.

"Come here, let me see if the rash has gone down."

Having shown his back to Fu Zhichen many times before, Song Jiang didn't feel awkward.

He lay down next to Fu Zhichen, his calves bending back and swaying in the air.

Resting his chin on his hand, he asked distractedly, "Mr. Fu, is it gone?"

The skin on the back in front of him was fair, smooth, and delicate, like it was covered in the finest silk.

His shoulder blades stuck out slightly, and the movement of turning made his spine ripple, making you want to trace it.

And that's exactly what Fu Zhichen did.

His fingertips first lightly tapped Song Jiang's waist dimples, then moved up along the graceful curve of his shoulder blades, tracing them bit by bit.

Song Jiang shuddered, his upper body twisting involuntarily.

Little did he know, Fu Zhichen saw it as pure seduction.

Song Jiang buried his face in the pillow. Even though Fu Zhichen had put medicine on his back before, why did today's touch feel so sensitive?

The big hand seemed to be deliberately teasing him.

Song Jiang's voice came out muffled. "Mr. Fu, it should be fine. I don't feel itchy anymore."

"Not quite. It's not fully healed yet."

"But I want to go to work with you tomorrow. It's boring at the villa. Is that okay?"

Song Jiang didn't notice the change in Fu Zhichen's expression, only heard a brief "Mm."

The big hand still lingered on his back. A faint blush crept onto Song Jiang's face, and his mind drifted back to what happened at the birthday party.

Was what the CEO said true or false?

Song Jiang turned his head, facing Fu Zhichen, his gaze landing on him.

Fu Zhichen was hunched over, his long sleeves rolled up, revealing muscular arms.

Prominent veins ran from his wrist to his elbow.

He clearly had a lot of strength.

Song Jiang suddenly felt playful. "Mr. Fu, can I arm-wrestle with you?"

Fu Zhichen paused, asking him in a skeptical tone, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure! Don't underestimate me, Boss Fu."

Song Jiang pushed himself up halfway, rolled up the sleeves of his pajamas, clenched his fist, and tried to prove himself.

"I've put on some muscle recently..."

Before he could finish, his dangling calf was suddenly grabbed.

To be precise, Fu Zhichen reached out and grabbed his ankle. "Quit messing around."

Song Jiang tried to shake his calf a couple of times but couldn't.

Fu Zhichen answered his previous question, "Steward Song, a man should know his place."

"..."

He had reason to suspect the boss was insulting him personally.

Song Jiang looked at Fu Zhichen's arm, then at his own.

Fine, the boss won.

Song Jiang gave up on the arm-wrestling idea; now he just wanted Fu Zhichen to let go of him.

"Boss Fu, my leg's cramping up. Can you let go?"

Having his ankle grabbed felt awful, like someone was choking his ability to walk. Song Jiang came up with a decent excuse.

Fu Zhichen still didn't let go, and instead said, "Steward Song, you've kicked me a few times already."

Had he? He had no idea.

Kicking his boss was risky. If the boss said he was wrong, then he was. Song Jiang apologized without hesitation, "Sorry, I didn't mean it."

Fu Zhichen rubbed Song Jiang's ankle gently and said lightly, "Steward Song, one apology and that's all?"

What else was there?

"Sorry, Boss Fu."

Two apologies were fine; if not, he could say it a third time.

After a while with no answer, Song Jiang reached out and tugged at Fu Zhichen's shirt hem, softening his voice, he said again, "Sorry."

Fu Zhichen found Song Jiang's little gesture amusing. He set Song Jiang's leg down, then quickly grabbed his restless hand as punishment, guiding it into the space between their bodies.

Finally, he pulled the person into his arms and uttered two words.

"Sleep."

With that, he pulled the covers over both of them.

Song Jiang's head was pressed into Fu Zhichen's neck, which was their most common sleeping position.

However, the familiar cool sandalwood scent seemed to be mixed with something else.

A stench.

Song Jiang frowned slightly, lifted his head, and sniffed behind Fu Zhichen's ear, finally realizing why this perfume scent felt familiar.

It was the scent of the man who had been following Fu Zhichen today.

Song Jiang simply turned his head to the other side, not knowing why he did so.

It was his instinct telling him that he detested any perfume scent other than the cool sandalwood.

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