Chapter 106: Can’t You Tell I’m Chasing You?

Chapter 106 Can't You See I'm Pursuing You?

Song Jiang stared blankly at Fu Zhichen for a good long while before he managed to piece together what was going on.

The guy on the phone by the window was Fu Zhichen, and the guy who'd fed him water was Fu Zhichen too. That meant Fu Zhichen's legs really had recovered.

Fu Zhichen could walk normally. As for why Fu Zhichen had kept it from him in the first place—whether he knew or not, it didn't really matter anymore.

The weight pressing down on Song Jiang's heart suddenly lifted. His expression relaxed, and he called out the title he used most often.

"President Fu."

After cheating death, even such a run-of-the-mill title felt precious to say out loud.

Song Jiang quickly noticed the wound on Fu Zhichen's forehead and lightly touched it with his finger.

"President Fu, you're my boss, so of course I'd be worried. And I failed to protect you—that's on me."

Before Fu Zhichen could respond, Song Jiang pursed his lips and added, "President Fu, you've got a mark on your face now."

Fu Zhichen looked down, totally unbothered. "Steward Song, does a scar mess with my looks?"

The CEO had a natural confidence in his own looks, enough to actually ask that out loud.

Fine. Since the CEO really was that handsome, he'd answer seriously.

"Seems like..." Song Jiang's almond-shaped eyes blinked rapidly as he looked Fu Zhichen over from left to right. "Seems like it doesn't."

Aside from the white gauze patch, his face was still just as cold and striking.

Song Jiang asked again, "President Fu, besides this injury, do you have any others?"

Fu Zhichen caught Song Jiang's hand as it roamed all over his face. "Steward Song, instead of worrying about me, you should be worrying about yourself."

"Huh?"

What did he mean?

Song Jiang grabbed Fu Zhichen's shirt and nuzzled his cheek against his chest a couple of times.

Maybe it was because his upper body wasn't hurt and really didn't ache, or maybe it was because lying in Fu Zhichen's arms was so comforting that he could ignore the pain.

After his little test, Song Jiang looked at Fu Zhichen with bright eyes. "President Fu, I tested it—moving around a little doesn't hurt at all. Don't worry about me."

He was like a battered cat grooming itself in its owner's arms to show it was fine—dark, shiny almond eyes and messy black hair that made you want to ruffle it.

Fu Zhichen held back the urge, cupped the fidgeting man's face in both hands, and angled it toward the cast on his left leg.

"Steward Song, you were unconscious for three days and suffered fractures in more than five places."

"Don't do stuff like you just did—getting up and then falling back down. I don't want your injuries getting worse."

His injuries...?

He couldn't even drink water by himself. If what Fu Zhichen was saying was true, that meant he was basically a helpless invalid who couldn't do anything on his own and could only lie in bed.

Song Jiang stammered, "Then what about sitting up to drink water, or eating...?" What was he supposed to do?

Fu Zhichen interrupted him before he could finish. "Steward Song, I've hired a caregiver for you."

Song Jiang pouted, looking unhappy, and quickly pushed on. "Can the caregiver feed me? I eat so slowly and choke easily when drinking. What if the caregiver thinks I'm annoying and hits me or screams at me?"

Fu Zhichen frowned, his brow twitching a few times, like he hadn't expected Song Jiang to ask something like that.

"Steward Song, what's going on in that little head of yours? Do you think I'd hire a caregiver like that to take care of you?"

It wasn't that he doubted the CEO's money—it was that he doubted the character of some caregivers.

Song Jiang raised three fingers solemnly, his gaze as determined as if he were swearing an oath. "Of course I trust you!"

Fu Zhichen's thumb pressed a bit harder against Song Jiang's earlobe, though not enough to cause pain.

"How come I never noticed before that you've got so much going on in that head of yours?"

His tone wasn't as cold as usual—instead, there was a hint of helplessness and affection in it.

What little thoughts? He didn't have any!

He'd just read too many novels with nasty caregivers—ones who spat in your soup, or peeled fruit without washing their hands after scratching their feet...

Just thinking about it gave Song Jiang goosebumps. It was seriously scary.

He might not be as germaphobic as the CEO, but he still cared about basic hygiene.

Song Jiang and Fu Zhichen stared at each other. He was like a kid whose secret had been figured out by an adult—no matter how firmly he insisted or how determined he looked, the adult just wouldn't believe him.

Fu Zhichen suddenly switched tactics. "Steward Song, if you want me to be your caregiver, you can just say so directly. But can you afford to pay me?"

"..."

Was this for real? A big-shot CEO was asking a wage earner for money?

Even if the CEO dared to take the job, the poor worker wouldn't dare to hire him.

Song Jiang swallowed. If the CEO was bold enough to say that, maybe there was a chance.

His courage grew in that moment. He wanted to know how much it would cost to have the CEO take care of him. Maybe if he pleaded for a discount, he could actually hire the CEO for a few days.

Fu Zhichen's other side was genuinely warm, and he liked it.

Holding onto that tiny bit of hope, Song Jiang asked quietly, "President Fu, how much would it cost to hire you?"

After a long pause, Fu Zhichen just looked at Song Jiang without saying a word.

Song Jiang figured the CEO was probably laughing at him inside—a lowly wage earner daring to dream of bossing around the boss. What a death wish.

Just as Song Jiang was about to say "forget it, never mind," Fu Zhichen spoke meaningfully.

"Steward Song, you can owe me for now. I'll collect it some other way later."

What other way?

Song Jiang was about to ask when a knock came from outside.

"Knock, knock, knock."

"Come in."

A bodyguard in a black suit walked in. He showed no surprise at their half-embraced posture and spoke respectfully.

"Fu Zhichen, the Wen Group chairman's son, has invited you to dinner."

Song Jiang knew who this person was—the bespectacled, refined one. Ever since the birthday party, he couldn't shake the feeling that the CEO would take a liking to him, so he'd made a point to look into Wen Zhong's background.

Since Wen Zhong had taken the initiative to invite the CEO to dinner, it was a sure sign he was interested in him. Candlelit dinner, a little hand-holding stroll after—who knows, they might just get together tonight.

"CEO Fu, you should go."

If the CEO got himself a man, he'd get his six million too.

It was a win-win for both of them, so why did he suddenly feel like he couldn't breathe, like something was missing from his chest?

Song Jiang didn't understand why he felt this way. He just forced a smile, pulling at the corners of his lips, and gave Fu Zhichen's shoulder a push, repeating the same words.

"CEO Fu, you should go."

Fu Zhichen crossed his arms and stared at him without budging.

"Steward Song, did I say I was going to that dinner?"

To Song Jiang, that basically sounded like: Why would you think I like him?

Song Jiang clutched the hospital sheets tightly and spilled out every reason he believed Fu Zhichen liked Wen Zhong.

"CEO Fu, Mr. Wen studied abroad and will surely work alongside you in the future. He can help you—you two can rake in even more cash together. You're a perfect match..."

Song Jiang didn't even know what he was saying. All he knew was that he couldn't bear to look at Fu Zhichen.

What was he afraid of?

Afraid Fu Zhichen would see that he didn't really want him to go?

Meanwhile, voices drifted in from outside the private VIP ward.

"Wait up! Let me come see the show!"

"Someone's busting a mistress downstairs! By the time you hobble over on that gimpy leg, it'll be old news!"

The first figure blurred past in the blink of an eye, while the second, dressed in a blue-striped hospital gown and leaning on a cane, hopped along on one foot behind him.

He looked desperate.

A minor distraction—Song Jiang shifted his gaze from the door to the window, forcing himself to focus on something else.

"CEO Fu, could I borrow one of your security guys? I'd like him to help me get to the window to see what's happening outside."

Fu Zhichen watched Song Jiang, who was clearly crestfallen, deflated like a balloon, every move off-kilter. A faint smile tugged at his lips as if he'd caught on.

"Steward Song, are you trying to shove me off right now?"

"After all the restraint and patience I've had with you, you're shoving me out the door?"

Before Song Jiang could respond, Fu Zhichen stood up, hooked his arms under Song Jiang's, and hoisted him up like he weighed nothing.

They were face-to-face, Song Jiang's legs wrapped around Fu Zhichen's waist.

The sudden move caught him totally off guard. His eyes went wide, and his hands instinctively wrapped around Fu Zhichen's neck.

What was he doing?

Fu Zhichen didn't carry him to the window. Instead, he pressed him against the white wall of the ward as if he were a child.

Then, with an intense gaze, he leaned in, nose to nose, and asked.

"Song Jiang, is that head of yours just for show?"

"Can't you see who I like?"

"Can't you tell I'm into you?"

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Ah! You get it?! I finally wrote this part! I'm so hyped!!! Don't you dare call it angsty—these two are sweet as hell!!!

Thanks to my readers for the reviews (a random emoji or a quick word in a review helps boost the score)! My motivation to write is through the roof now!!!

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