Xiao Cheng was startled, his eyes widening in disbelief, and he remained frozen for a long while.
Bai Yiheng, noticing his shocked and incredulous expression, relaxed his grip on the steering wheel and found it somewhat amusing.
“Is that unbelievable?”
Or was it that his usual demeanor was too serious, making Xiao Cheng never consider this possibility?
Indeed, Xiao Cheng was completely taken aback. He had always regarded Bai Yiheng as a senior figure. Even when he overheard Jiang Zihe hinting that Bai Yiheng might be gay, Xiao Cheng never thought Bai Yiheng could have feelings for him. Their styles were worlds apart, after all.
Mr. Bai must be joking, right?
Xiao Cheng struggled to keep his composure. Despite his effort, a blush crept across his cheeks, and his eyes carried a mix of embarrassment and confusion.
“Mr. Bai, please don’t joke with me like this.”
He regretted discussing such a topic with Bai Yiheng in the first place. What possessed him to seriously consider such a ridiculous idea along with Mr. Bai?
Bai Yiheng tapped his fingers lightly against the wheel. His expression remained calm, but he couldn’t completely quell the faint trace of nervousness rising in his heart.
“Xiao Cheng.” Bai Yiheng’s voice deepened, his tone carrying an unusual sense of pressure, quite different from his usual gentleness.
“Don’t you want to completely rid yourself of Luo Jingshu?”
His voice held a subtle hint of enticement.
This wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision for Bai Yiheng; it was one he had thoroughly thought through.
Over the course of their time together, he had come to understand Xiao Cheng’s character clearly.
The young man was like a cautious little animal, wary of anyone approaching too closely. At the first sign of danger, he would retreat into his burrow.
Yet, for all his wariness, Xiao Cheng was frustratingly oblivious in other ways. If nothing was made explicit, he would forever consider Bai Yiheng nothing more than a friend.
Bai Yiheng had been steadily and silently getting closer to Xiao Cheng, ensuring the younger man had let down his guard before taking this step forward.
He had waited long enough.
Xiao Cheng’s face turned beet red, and he fidgeted in his seat, clearly unsettled.
He did want to rid himself of Luo Jingshu, but not like this—let alone by involving Mr. Bai.
“Mr. Bai…”
Xiao Cheng could hardly believe Bai Yiheng had such an idea.
Could it be possible that Mr. Bai actually had feelings for him?
Xiao Cheng began to question whether there was something peculiar about himself. Why were the people around him always acting so oddly?
Forget about Xie Zhao. That was a strange crush that came out of nowhere. Xiao Cheng had rejected him multiple times, yet Xie Zhao refused to give up.
But with Mr. Bai? That was something else entirely. Mr. Bai was over ten years older than him and had seen all kinds of people in his life. Why would he, of all people, develop such feelings?
It must be his own overthinking. Mr. Bai was only trying to help.
“Mr. Bai, I’ve thought about it carefully. This plan doesn’t seem very appropriate, and you don’t need to inconvenience yourself for me.”
Xiao Cheng spoke hesitantly, rejecting Bai Yiheng’s proposal. He’d rather pay someone to pretend than drag Mr. Bai into this mess.
Seeing Xiao Cheng now too nervous even to meet his gaze, Bai Yiheng inwardly sighed. “Alright.”
He couldn’t push too hard, lest Xiao Cheng avoid him entirely.
It was enough to plant the seed in Xiao Cheng’s mind. At least now, the younger man might stop seeing him purely as a senior figure.
The rest of the drive passed in silence.
Bai Yiheng parked the car and followed Xiao Cheng into the house, reminding him as they parted, “Don’t overthink things. Get a good rest.”
He worried that Xiao Cheng might dwell on their earlier conversation and lose sleep over it.
Xiao Cheng hummed in agreement. “You too, Mr. Bai.”
It wasn’t until Xiao Cheng returned to his room that he finally felt at ease.
After an emotionally turbulent evening, he was exhausted. His eyes barely stayed open as he prepared for bed, but he still wanted to check his phone.
Luo Jingshu had sent him a goodnight message. Xiao Cheng had no intention of replying, clicking into the chat briefly before backing out.
It wasn’t that he wanted to do anything, but his mild compulsion to clear notifications wouldn’t let him leave an unread message hanging.
He also saw Xie Zhao’s goodnight message and replied in kind.
Scrolling through his chats, he suddenly noticed Jiang Zihe’s profile picture.
Since arriving in City A, Xiao Cheng hadn’t seen Jiang Zihe, who seemed to have been traveling abroad recently. Jiang Zihe frequently shared his adventures with Xiao Cheng.
Xiao Cheng attentively viewed the photos Jiang Zihe had sent and left a few compliments. Jiang Zihe, evidently online, quickly responded.
[Jiang Zihe: Why are you still awake so late?]
Since starting work, Xiao Cheng typically went to bed early unless he had overtime. Work consumed all his energy, and he usually fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
[Xiao Cheng: I went out for dinner tonight. Just got back now.]
Jiang Zihe made a few remarks, chatting idly about his time abroad. As it didn’t seem particularly important, Xiao Cheng was about to say goodnight when Jiang Zihe suddenly asked:
[Jiang Zihe: Have you heard any rumors lately?]
Xiao Cheng’s sleepiness dulled his reactions, and it took him two seconds to process the question before he slowly typed back: [What?]
[Jiang Zihe: Aren’t you working around Bai Yiheng? Did he mention anything about this?]
Xiao Cheng’s daily workload consisted of answering emails, preparing Bai Yiheng’s coffee, accompanying him to work meetings, and taking notes during conferences.
After all that, there were still piles of documents to review and reports to write within the deadlines set by Bai Yiheng.
These tedious tasks occupied all his time, leaving him with little interaction with Bai Yiheng despite working in such close proximity.
Once home, Xiao Cheng was always too exhausted to revisit anything work-related.
No one willingly spends their free time thinking about work.
Occasionally, during work hours, Bai Yiheng would chat with him briefly. Xiao Cheng’s desk was next to Bai Yiheng’s, and sometimes, while reviewing reports, Bai Yiheng would mention a thing or two.
Xiao Cheng wasn’t sure what Jiang Zihe was hinting at, but when did he start caring about such matters? Wasn’t his lifelong goal to live as a carefree freeloader?
[Xiao Cheng: What kind of rumors are you talking about?]
[Jiang Zihe: Nothing in particular. I’ve been abroad lately, so I’m out of the loop on domestic affairs. It’s just that my brother has been unusually busy recently.]
Though the year-end rush occupied most companies, Jiang Zihe felt his brother’s workload seemed excessive. Whenever he called, Jiang Ying sounded utterly drained.
Xiao Cheng suddenly remembered what Xiao Yu had told him.
The day after his unfortunate incident with the spiked drink, when he woke up in the hospital, Xiao Yu mentioned Jiang Ying and subtly advised him not to share the information with others.
Xiao Cheng often forgot that Jiang Zihe was Jiang Ying’s younger brother. Despite their drastically different personalities, they were family.
Xiao Cheng harbored an intense dislike for Jiang Ying but considered Jiang Zihe, his closest friend.
Jiang Ying’s actions were abhorrent, yet Jiang Zihe knew nothing about them. Still, as brothers, their fates were intertwined.
Keeping Jiang Zihe in the dark while working against Jiang Ying made Xiao Cheng feel a twinge of guilt, as if he were betraying his friend.
He carefully worded his reply: [Maybe, but I don’t know much about it.]
Jiang Zihe seemed indifferent. [That makes sense. You’re just a junior assistant now. Maybe I’m overthinking.]
Xiao Cheng’s guilt deepened. It felt like he was exploiting Jiang Zihe’s trust.
[Xiao Cheng: Are you really so disinterested in business matters?]
Jiang Zihe was puzzled by the question. They had discussed this before, and Jiang Zihe had always shown a lack of interest.
[Jiang Zihe: You know I don’t have the talent my brother does. Besides, as long as he’s around, there’s no need for me to get involved.]
It sounded like a joke, but Xiao Cheng couldn’t tell how serious it was.
[Jiang Zihe: Honestly, my brother is a control freak. I’d rather not compete with him. Being a freeloader suits me just fine.]
There was a hint of genuine sentiment in his words, and Xiao Cheng pondered over it.
Jiang Zihe wasn’t completely indifferent; he simply felt he couldn’t win against Jiang Ying and didn’t want to jeopardize their relationship. So, he chose to step aside entirely.
Xiao Cheng felt he understood a little better. He hesitated before asking: [How well do you know your brother?]
Did Jiang Zihe really know nothing about Jiang Ying’s misdeeds?
Xiao Cheng still hadn’t told him about Jiang Ying’s attempted assault or the subsequent beating Jiang Ying endured.
With Jiang Ying’s towering pride, he certainly wouldn’t have confessed such a humiliation to his brother.
[Jiang Zihe: I wouldn’t say I’m completely clueless. What are you referring to?]
Having grown up together, Jiang Zihe had some understanding of Jiang Ying’s character, though it wasn’t something he discussed openly.
Despite his carefree demeanor, Jiang Zihe wasn’t naive. Xiao Cheng’s comments tonight hinted something deeper, and it wasn’t hard for Jiang Zihe to connect the dots to his brother’s recent exhaustion.
[Xiao Cheng: For example, his personal life?]
Jiang Ying was a complete scumbag. Xiao Cheng felt vindicated in his initial aversion to him, even if it seemed irrational at the time. In hindsight, it was entirely justified—Jiang Ying lacked any sense of morality.
[Jiang Zihe: My brother likes to play around. He’s not very serious about relationships.]
[Jiang Zihe: Why are you suddenly so interested?]
Xiao Cheng brushed it off and redirected the conversation: [Aren’t you worried that he’ll go too far and face some kind of retaliation?]
This time, Jiang Zihe went silent for a while. Xiao Cheng began to worry he had been too blunt—was his hint too obvious?
After about three or four minutes, Jiang Zihe finally replied: [So you do know something.]
[Did my brother go too far as a playboy and end up getting targeted?]
Xiao Cheng: A bullseye in one shot.
He replied with a laughing emoji: [I’m just guessing.]
Jiang Zihe, despite his apprehension about his brother, refrained from speaking ill of him. After some casual chatting, Xiao Cheng said he needed to sleep.
He was certain Jiang Zihe had picked up on something, though it was unclear just how much he had figured out.
If possible, Xiao Cheng hoped to find the most suitable way to deal with Jiang Ying and avoid hurting Jiang Zihe.
It was impossible for him to forget what Jiang Ying had done to him.
But he didn’t want to hurt Jiang Zihe or ruin their friendship, even though that seemed highly unlikely.
Troubles came one after another. Xiao Cheng rubbed his temples and decided to stop thinking about it. He curled up under the covers and soon fell asleep.
Since Secretary Chen had clarified to everyone that Xiao Cheng was Bai Yiheng’s cousin, the number of calls Xiao Cheng received suddenly increased.
There were always people trying to contact Bai Yiheng through him, all with the same goal in mind.
Ultimately, it was about personal gain.
Xiao Cheng rejected every one of them. Legitimate collaborators would naturally go through the proper company channels to schedule an appointment with Bai Yiheng. Those who reached out to him directly were usually looking for shortcuts.
Having spent so much time around Bai Yiheng, Xiao Cheng had unknowingly picked up on his mannerisms and approach to dealing with people. His words and actions increasingly resemble Bai Yiheng.
Xiao Cheng didn’t even notice until Secretary Chen pointed it out.
“When you turned that person down just now, you sounded exactly like Mr. Bai.”
Xiao Cheng was momentarily taken aback before awkwardly smiling. “I guess I’ve heard Mr. Bai talk like that so often it rubbed off on me.”
Secretary Chen gave him a thumbs-up. “That just shows Mr. Bai taught you well.”
This was precisely Xiao Yu’s intention. He wanted Xiao Cheng to learn more about dealing with people from Bai Yiheng. If Xiao Yu saw this now, he’d likely beam with pride.
Xiao Cheng felt a sense of pride and satisfaction from being praised and recognized, his expression particularly animated. “I still have so much to learn.”
Secretary Chen stifled a laugh. She was tempted to pinch his cheek but refrained, afraid the boss might see. Instead, she patted him on the shoulder. “Keep it up!”
Xiao Cheng grinned. “Thank you, Secretary Chen!”
Just then, Bai Yiheng walked out of his office, catching sight of their cheerful expressions. He couldn’t help but chuckle. “What’s making you both so happy?”
“Talking about how well Mr. Bai has taught Xiao Cheng and how much he’s improved,” Secretary Chen said.
Bai Yiheng fixed his gaze on Xiao Cheng. “Keep up the good work.”
At that moment, Xiao Cheng felt all his troubles melt away. Hearing his boss’s praise was more thrilling than winning the lottery.
He realized that what he had learned by working alongside Bai Yiheng in these past months far surpassed what he had gained in the two years before he ended up in this book.
In his previous life, there was no one to guide him. He stumbled through failures, trying to piece things together, yet everything remained shrouded in confusion.
Bai Yiheng, on the other hand, conveyed truths simply, and Xiao Cheng felt deeply grateful.
Before the year-end holiday, Bai Yiheng instructed the finance department to hand out red envelopes to employees. To Xiao Cheng’s surprise, he received one too. When he opened it, he found a generous sum inside.
Secretary Chen glanced at Xiao Cheng’s envelope, then weighed her own. With a playful grin, she quipped, “Ah, people really shouldn’t compare.”
Xiao Cheng didn’t even need to check to know his envelope was much thicker than hers.
On the night of their final workday, as they were leaving together, Xiao Cheng couldn’t resist asking, “Was my red envelope prepared especially by Mr. Bai?”
After all, what had he done to deserve such a large bonus?
Bai Yiheng was driving him back to S City, a journey that would take several hours. They likely wouldn’t reach the Xiao family’s home until nighttime.
Xiao Cheng’s emotions were a mix of excitement and joy. Nobody dislikes a holiday, and he hadn’t seen his family in such a long time.
“Congratulations to Assistant Xiao for making great progress.” Bai Yiheng smiled. “I hope you continue to excel.”
Xiao Cheng carefully placed the red envelope into his bag, then looked out the window at the falling snow, feeling a wave of sentimentality.
Two months ago, he couldn’t have imagined himself looking forward to life like this.
Back then, he constantly feared being suddenly pulled back into his original world. He lived each day in anxiety and tension, unable to appreciate his surroundings and instinctively rejecting others’ kindness.
Now, those memories felt as though they belonged to a distant past.
Outside, pedestrians hurried through the snow as it fell heavier. Inside the car, it was warm and quiet, and Xiao Cheng’s sense of happiness grew. He leaned his head against the window and slowly closed his eyes.
When he woke up, his cheeks felt warm and flushed with satisfaction. He had slept so deeply that, upon waking, he wasn’t quite sure what day it was.
“Awake?”
Bai Yiheng handed him a cup of hot milk tea from the side. “Wake yourself up a bit; we’re almost there.”
Xiao Cheng reached out to take it, the cup’s warmth making him squint slightly. It wasn’t unpleasant—his fingers were enveloped in a comforting heat.
“When did Mr. Bai get this milk tea?”
He hadn’t even realized when Bai Yiheng had stopped the car. Clearly, he’d been sleeping too soundly.
Bai Yiheng turned the steering wheel. “About ten minutes ago.”
Guessing they were close to arriving, Bai Yiheng had anticipated Xiao Cheng might want something warm to drink upon waking. He’d pulled over, stepped out, and bought a cup of milk tea.
Xiao Cheng felt the warmth spread through his stomach. The road outside was becoming more familiar—it was the route to the Xiao family’s villa.
He had messaged He An earlier, who had prepared a grand table full of dishes. Bai Yiheng even stayed for the meal.
Once home, Xiao Cheng visibly relaxed. It had been some time since he was last back, and everything felt dear to him.
During dinner, Xiao Yu asked Xiao Cheng about his studies. Bai Yiheng’s response was nothing but praise, which left Xiao Cheng feeling a little embarrassed.
The house had taken on a festive atmosphere with the New Year approaching. Someone had even put a large “Fu”1The Chinese character fu (福; fú), meaning ‘fortune’ or ‘good luck’ is represented both as a Chinese ideograph and, at times, pictorially, in one of its homophonous forms. It is often found on a figurine of the male god of the same name, one of the trio of “star gods” Fú, Lù, and Shòu. Mounted fu are a widespread Chinese tradition associated with Chinese New Year and can be seen on the entrances of many Chinese homes worldwide. character on the window, and Xiao Cheng found it amusing. He snapped a photo and posted it on his Moments.
After dinner, he sat on the couch with He An, who was watching TV, while Xiao Cheng scrolled through his phone.
The comments on his Moments began rolling in. Most were from unfamiliar names, but Xiao Cheng, in his good mood, replied with “Happy New Year” to each one.
Until he came across one particular comment.
[Luo Jingshu: Brother Cheng, Happy New Year.]
Xiao Cheng hesitated. He had replied to everyone else—leaving Luo Jingshu unanswered might seem petty, as if he were deliberately ignoring him.
But then Xiao Cheng reminded himself that Moments’ comments were only visible to mutual friends. No one else would know who he had or hadn’t replied to.
Satisfied with this reasoning, he left Luo Jingshu’s comment unanswered. But he underestimated the man’s shamelessness.
Ten minutes later, Luo Jingshu left another comment:
[Luo Jingshu: The puppy misses you.]
Xiao Cheng: ??
“Fuck.”
He An turned to look at him. “Sweetheart, what did you just say?”
Xiao Cheng swallowed the rest of his words and looked innocently at He An. “Uh… All plants have feelings…”
He An hummed twice, then smacked the back of his head. “Mind your manners.”
Xiao Cheng hadn’t meant to react that way—he was just stunned by Luo Jingshu’s comment. How could someone be this shameless?
Though they didn’t have many mutual friends, there were still a few.
For example, Xie Zhao!
The thought of Xie Zhao possibly seeing the comment made Xiao Cheng’s hands tremble.
Luo Jingshu was ruining his image!
[Xiao Cheng: Did you forget your meds again?]
After posting the reply, he immediately switched to WeChat to send a message to Luo Jingshu:
[Xiao Cheng: Be a decent person, will you!]
[Xiao Cheng: If you keep saying weird things, I’ll delete you.]
He should’ve deleted Luo Jingshu long ago.
Annoying!
But Xiao Cheng had a strange feeling. If he deleted Luo Jingshu now, he’d probably end up finding some excuse to re-add him later.
He decided to keep the guy on his list for now, if only to monitor him. When he was in a bad mood, he could always vent by scolding him. Otherwise, who knew what other absurdities Luo Jingshu might come up with if left unchecked?
Fueled by this thought, Xiao Cheng typed with extra force, his fingers pounding against the screen.
He let loose a string of insults, holding nothing back:
[Xiao Cheng: If you want to be a dog, go find another owner. I’m sure plenty of people would be interested in you.]
Luo Jingshu seemed to be struck by the harshness of this comment. He didn’t respond for a long time.
Xiao Cheng didn’t think he was being too mean. If not for Luo Jingshu, he wouldn’t even know about these bizarre games.
Who wanted to know, anyway!
Xiao Cheng scoffed internally but didn’t dare make a sound, fearing He An might overhear and scold him for being uncivilized again.
Luo Jingshu, meanwhile, was indeed hurt by the comment, though he had been prepared for it. He stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, staring at the distant city lights and wondering if Xiao Cheng might be out there somewhere.
Snow was still falling outside. The flakes hit the glass, quickly melting into water and sliding down.
For some reason, Luo Jingshu’s eyes stung. Perhaps the stillness of his surroundings magnified his sense of loneliness.
He should’ve been used to being alone by now, but he couldn’t forget the warmth he once had.
If he hadn’t made so many mistakes, would Xiao Cheng still be by his side?
Luo Jingshu’s gaze searched the distant cityscape, despite the futility. He wished, foolishly, to find a familiar silhouette.
Then reality struck him: Xiao Cheng was no longer in A City.
The Moments post was full of Xiao Cheng’s family, friends, meals, and home—everything except Luo Jingshu.
Raising his hand as if to grasp something, Luo Jingshu found only the cold, empty air.
He longed to see Xiao Cheng, even if it was just to be scolded. He just wanted to see that bright, lively face again.
His raised hand faltered as he closed his eyes, their lids heavy and dry. His body swayed slightly before stepping back.
Suddenly, the office door swung open. Fu Ju’s voice cut through the silence. “I thought you left. Why are you still here?”
Walking in, Fu Ju continued, “You should be thanking me, you know. I ditched my date to keep you company.”
Luo Jingshu remained silent by the window.
Fu Ju frowned. Something felt off. “What’s wrong with you?”
His tone grew casual, but Luo Jingshu still didn’t answer. His body wavered, as if he might collapse at any moment.
“Luo Jingshu?”
Fu Ju stepped closer and saw his pale complexion and lips devoid of color.
“…Hey…”
Before he could finish, Luo Jingshu frowned and waved weakly in the air before losing his balance entirely.
Fu Ju quickly caught him, reaching out to check.
“Damn, you’re burning up!”
The man hadn’t even noticed he had a fever and had gone through an entire meeting. Fu Ju was astonished. “Can you still walk?”
Luo Jingshu opened his eyes and muttered something under his breath.
“What are you saying?” Fu Ju leaned in closer.
“…Brother Cheng…”
His voice was raspy and weak, but Fu Ju managed to catch those two words.
He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Your Brother Cheng doesn’t want you anymore!”
He had given up his evening plans to come here, only to be mistaken for someone else.
Two words came to Fu Ju’s mind: Serves you right.
Luo Jingshu’s eyelashes trembled at those words. His body slackened entirely, and he lost all strength.
Brother Cheng…
Didn’t want him anymore.
