Chapter 107: Will You Let Me Chase You?

Chapter 107: Will You Let Me Pursue You?

The bodyguard had slipped out at some point, and once the hospital room door closed, it sealed off all surrounding sound.

It should have been quiet, but Song Jiang's head felt like it was about to explode, pounding relentlessly.

What did Fu Zhichen say?

Fu Zhichen likes him?

Fu Zhichen is pursuing him?

Since when? And how did he not know about it?

Is this normal?

Don't the female leads that CEOs in novels fall for always have to be smart, talented, and drop-dead gorgeous?

But him...?

He hadn't forgotten how Fu Zhichen called him stupid every single day. How could that be? How could Fu Zhichen fall for someone as foolish, money-hungry, and ordinary as him?

Yeah, there's no way Fu Zhichen could like him.

Was he hallucinating or what?

Was he still stuck in a dream and hadn't woken up yet?

Song Jiang squeezed his eyes shut, bit his lower lip, and pinched himself on the back of his hand.

"Hiss."

Ow, that hurt.

But why did it hurt, though?

Fu Zhichen's eyes had been glued to Song Jiang's face the whole time, naturally catching every little expression.

"Open your eyes and talk."

Talk about what?

Song Jiang's fingers, still hooked around Fu Zhichen's neck, fidgeted together as he said weakly, "Mr. Fu, please stop joking."

This joke isn't funny at all.

"Song Jiang, do you think I've got any reason to joke around with you?"

Their foreheads were pressed together, and when Fu Zhichen spoke, his breath spilled all over Song Jiang's face—burning hot, like it was urging him to answer.

Song Jiang's long lashes trembled as he offered what he thought was the most plausible explanation.

"Mr. Fu, did your second personality just come out?"

He'd rather believe it was Fu Zhichen's second personality that said it wanted to pursue him. The first personality was mean and sharp-tongued—he was scared of that one.

Fu Zhichen laughed at Song Jiang's words and gave his back a light smack, like a punishment.

"Steward Song, do I need to show you my medical records proving I'm physically and mentally sound?"

If only that were possible, but clearly it wasn't going to happen.

Song Jiang swallowed hard, still trying to weasel his way out, leaning back a little. "Mr. Fu, how could you possibly like me..."

His words clearly lacked conviction, because when he'd secretly peeked just now, he really hadn't seen any hint of playfulness or teasing on Fu Zhichen's face.

His eyes were filled with nothing but the determined look of a hunter eyeing its prey.

Fu Zhichen said nothing, stepping forward to close the distance as Song Jiang retreated, and the two ended up nose-to-nose again.

This time, Fu Zhichen didn't stop. Instead, he tilted his head and pressed his lips straight onto Song Jiang's red, bitten mouth.

Song Jiang reacted almost instinctively—kissed so forcefully, he tried to pull back again.

But Fu Zhichen gave him no chance, switching to one hand to support his ass while Song Jiang's back hit the wall. Just as the back of his head was about to smack the wall, another big hand slipped between his head and the wall just in time.

Fu Zhichen was protecting the back of his head while also keeping him in place. With this series of forceful moves, Song Jiang had no room left to escape.

With nowhere to run, he could only take it.

"Mmmph..."

The sudden kiss came down like a storm, catching him completely off guard. In that instant, Song Jiang's mind went blank, and he just closed his eyes, submitting for reasons he couldn't explain.

Both of them were fully conscious—unlike that time Fu Zhichen had been drugged with the aphrodisiac and kissed him so ferociously.

In the quiet space, the hormone-charged scent of cool sandalwood spread without restraint, intoxicating and mesmerizing.

A grown man's body was hard all over, yet his lips were so soft—two pairs of lips pressing together like cotton rubbing against cotton.

At first, Fu Zhichen's lips moved relatively gently, but gradually—Song Jiang would recall later—maybe it was because he sensed no resistance.

Fu Zhichen pressed harder, and "gnawing" wouldn't be too strong a word for what he did to Song Jiang's lips.

Song Jiang had long forgotten to breathe, his eyelids squeezed shut. It felt like he was dreaming all over again.

Dreaming a beautiful dream where the whole world was just him and Fu Zhichen.

Fu Zhichen was kissing him.

He could almost believe it now—that Fu Zhichen actually liked him.

Only lovers held each other like this. Only lovers kissed like this.

After what felt like forever, only when Song Jiang was almost out of oxygen did Fu Zhichen finally let him go.

Song Jiang's eyes were watery, his long lashes trembling nonstop. His face had turned soft and glowing, flushed with a shy, rosy blush.

His lips, after Fu Zhichen had ravaged them, looked as tender and tempting as freshly picked cherries.

Fu Zhichen couldn't resist leaning in for another peck—just a quick touch before pulling back.

Song Jiang's lips and teeth felt numb, his whole body like it was soaked in a jar of cool sandalwood scent.

With every breath, all he could smell was cool sandalwood.

Song Jiang tightened his arms around Fu Zhichen's neck, gasping for air as he buried his face into the crook of his neck.

Fu Zhichen was breathing hard too, but his were low, ragged breaths laced with raw, masculine desire.

From Fu Zhichen's vantage point, he could clearly see Song Jiang's earlobes so red they looked ready to bleed, and a small stretch of pale, smooth skin visible at the nape of his neck beneath the blue-striped hospital gown.

The white and pink blended together, creating a unique kind of beauty.

Fu Zhichen's voice was hoarse as he asked.

"Song Jiang, am I being obvious enough?"

Song Jiang let out an absent-minded, questioning "Hmm."

Fu Zhichen didn't dress it up. He said it plainly, "I like you."

"Song Jiang, you're the one I like. You get that?"

Song Jiang didn't reply, and Fu Zhichen's fingertips scratched his scalp lightly.

"Are you seriously dumb enough not to get what those words mean?"

Low damage, high insult.

Song Jiang snapped back to reality a little. Though he'd never been in a relationship, he wasn't that dense.

After a long pause, Song Jiang finally found his voice again, and feeling finally returned to his lips.

"Mr. Fu..."

Just as Song Jiang was about to say something, Fu Zhichen interrupted him in a hoarse voice, "Don't call me Mr. Fu anymore."

"Song Jiang, I'm pursuing you. Calling me Mr. Fu makes it too formal."

What was wrong with an employee calling their boss that?

"What about work..."

"You've got the nerve to bring up work?" Fu Zhichen retorted, "Song Jiang, all you ever do is talk about money in front of me. Lucky for you I like you—if it were anyone else, I'd have fired you long ago."

Song Jiang mumbled weakly, "Oh..."

So was he supposed to be grateful Fu Zhichen hadn't fired him?

Looking back, no wonder Fu Zhichen's mean comments had always been laced with a little concern.

The signs had been there all along.

"Song Jiang, are you going to let me pursue you?"

Before Song Jiang could answer, Fu Zhichen bit down on his earlobe.

"I'm not asking for your permission. Even if you say no, it doesn't matter."

"Pursuing you is my business. You can reject me, but I'll keep chasing you until you say yes."

"During this time, you can't use any excuse to avoid me, or I'll use my own methods."

"Got it?"

The more Song Jiang listened, the more confused he became. Why did Fu Zhichen sound like some mob boss?

"What methods?"

Out of Song Jiang's sight, a sly glint flashed in Fu Zhichen's eyes, and he smirked and said two loaded words.

"Guess."

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Nailed the cliffhanger!

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