Everything was over.
Wrapped in the warm, dry blanket, Sang You lay in Gong Ze’s arms after showering and drinking some hot soup. Weakly hugging Gong Ze, he rubbed against his chest, then looked up at the languid man with hopeful eyes. “A Ze, did you feel good just now?”
Gong Ze lowered his head, smiled, and ruffled his hair. “Mm. My little young master is beautiful. Very captivating.”
Sang You smiled with satisfaction, unable to fight off his drowsiness as he closed his eyes and murmured vaguely, “I like you so much…” He opened everything of himself to Gong Ze, hoping to receive his cherished love.
“Me too.”
Go to sleep, little young master.
Pressing a kiss to the forehead of his little boyfriend, who had already drifted into dreams, Gong Ze reached up and turned off the bedside lamp. Holding the young master close, skin to skin, they slowly sank into sleep.
·
Early the next morning.
Gong Ze woke up and sensed that something was off with the temperature of the person beside him. He touched the young master — indeed, he had a fever.
“Sang You? Sang You?”
Gong Ze frowned, sat up, and patted Sang You’s shoulder. Sang You’s cheeks were flushed, but his lips were pale and dry — clearly not right.
He shouldn’t have let the young master drink yesterday.
Sang You had stripped off his clothes in the car while drunk, then gone through another round at home —
Gong Ze’s heart ached with regret.
He got out of bed, quickly put on some clothes, and went out to ask the auntie to make some soup and bring the medicine box.
He woke up a groggy Sang You, fed him some warm, nourishing soup to rehydrate, and gave him two fever-reducing pills. Still worried, Gong Ze called the family doctor.
Sang You had been born with insufficient fetal energy and a weak constitution, so the Sang family had always kept a doctor on retainer.
But since Sang You had become ill less frequently as an adult, the family doctor no longer lived at the Sang residence.
The doctor knew the young master’s physical condition and medication dosages well. He answered the call and immediately agreed to come over — about a half-hour drive.
After hanging up, Gong Ze propped up a woozy Sang You, changed his damp pajamas, wiped him down with a warm towel under the blanket, dressed him in fresh ones, and coaxed him into drinking water several times.
“…A Ze…”
Sang You opened his eyes lazily, licked his dry lips — his mouth felt scorching from the fever.
Feeling awful, he couldn’t help but whine to his boyfriend.
“I don’t feel well…”
Hearing the hoarseness in Sang You’s voice, how could Gong Ze not be worried? Even if he knew it was just a minor cold, the discomfort was still real.
He sat by the bed, holding the young master’s warm hand, and comforted him softly. “The doctor will be here soon. Once you get some medicine, you’ll feel better. You’re not going to the company today — rest here at home.”
“You’re not staying with me?”
Sang You looked at Gong Ze with pitiful eyes.
He grabbed Gong Ze’s hand and placed it near his pillow, rubbing his slightly feverish forehead against it. His fox-like eyes reflected the man’s furrowed brows, his voice full of dependence and unease.
“I don’t want to be alone.”
In the past, his mother would be by his side when he was sick.
Now that his parents were gone, Gong Ze was his pillar and support.
When Sang You was with Gong Ze, he wasn’t scared anymore.
Rubbed against so plaintively by the young master, Gong Ze was nearly swayed.
But the follow-up arrangements for the project Sang You had just won, plus the board of directors — a mountain of tasks awaited Gong Ze.
In the past, Gong Ze didn’t care about Sang Corporation’s fate. Now, he wanted to leave behind, at the very least, assets that would ensure Sang You never had to worry about food or money.
“…I’ll stay with you until you’ve had your injection. I’ll have lunch with you. If you’re better by then, I’ll go to the company. If not, I’ll stay here with you.” Gong Ze coaxed him softly.
“Okay?”
Sang You pouted and mumbled reluctantly, “Fine.”
Half an hour later, the family doctor arrived. The refined, middle-aged man had not met Gong Ze — the current head of the Sang Corporation and former live-in son-in-law — many times. His respectful attitude was tinged with awkwardness.
But when it came to treating illness, he was a professional.
After examining Sang You, he couldn’t ignore the dense trail of love marks on the beautiful young master’s body.
Knowing that Gong Ze and the Sang family’s young master were in a fiancé relationship, the introverted doctor pushed up his glasses and offered two vague, embarrassed reminders.
“There’s no major problem — just a chill.”
“I’ll prepare some medication for the young master now. The fever should break after the IV drip. But as for… intimacy… it’s best to avoid overexertion…”
That kind of activity was quite draining on both physical strength and energy.
Gong Ze nodded with his usual expression. “Understood.”
Hearing the doctor’s words from the side, Sang You shyly pulled the blanket up to cover the hickeys on his neck.
After the doctor prepared the IV solution, the auntie brought out the IV stand that Sang You had used in the past. The doctor skillfully inserted the needle into Sang You’s hand, left two bottles of solution, and went downstairs.
Gong Ze stayed by his side until eleven o’clock. By the time Sang You was on the second bottle, he had already fallen asleep from the medication. When the doctor came to remove the needle, Sang You didn’t even wake up.
His temperature was taken: 36.2°C (97.2°F).
“He’s fine now. Just let him sweat it out.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
Gong Ze relaxed. Gently, he brushed aside the hair stuck to the young master’s forehead and looked at Sang You’s peaceful sleeping face. Unable to resist, he leaned down and pecked his lips.
Suddenly, the phone in his pocket vibrated. Gong Ze frowned, took it out, and glanced at the caller ID. The moment he saw who it was, the tenderness in his eyes vanished, replaced by icy cold.
[It’s Qin Chuan.]
The system popped its head out to look at the phone screen. Noticing that Qin Chuan’s message was brusque and demanding to see Gong Ze in person, it commented, [Didn’t you just meet him? Why does he want to see you again? Could it be…? Eh, his healing ability is surprisingly good — those thick chopsticks didn’t send him to the proctology ward.]
“It’s not about that. It’s about the government project I gave to Sang You. That project originally belonged to the Qin family. After all, Qin Chuan’s father and Yan Cheng have always had a good relationship. Traditionally, these government projects always went to the Qin family.”
But now, Gong Ze had used his connection to Yan Cheng to let Sang You win the bid.
And this came right after Gong Ze had promised Qin Chuan to help the Qin family.
The timing was too coincidental. Both Qin Chuan and his father had their doubts — wondering whether Gong Ze was behind Yan Liben’s attacks on them.
Qin Chuan had sent an aggressive message, even threatening Gong Ze that if he didn’t come, he would tell Sang You everything about them.
“I want a reasonable explanation!”
Feeling played, Qin Chuan’s face twisted as he typed out each word.
[Got it. The usual room at Mingchuan Hotel. Wait for me.]
Soon after, Qin Chuan received Gong Ze’s reply.
“This is also within the plan.”
It was just incredibly irritating.
His wife was sick, putting him in a bad mood. The lousy company was a mess. And now he had to deal with a pervert.
Putting away his phone, the man — whose mood had soured — turned and went downstairs without a trace of expression.
“Mr. Gong, are you going out? But it’s almost noon — aren’t you going to eat at home?”
The auntie at the Sang residence saw the man leaving and quickly said.
“No.” The man stopped, holding his suit jacket in his hand. He turned sideways, his expression flat. “If Sang You wakes up, tell him I’ve gone to the company.”
“Oh, alright, Mr. Gong.”
The auntie hurriedly nodded.
·
The sleep-inducing effect of the IV was gradually wearing off.
The sleeping young man’s eyelids fluttered as he slowly woke up. But when he didn’t see the familiar figure by the bedside, a trace of disappointment flickered across his beautiful face. He yawned and sat up.
Just then, the auntie pushed the door open to check on the young master’s condition. Seeing Sang You awake, she was startled for a moment, then happily said, “Young master, you’re finally awake! The doctor said it’s just a mild fever. Mr. Gong caught it early — you cooled down right after the IV. Would you like something to eat? It’s already noon!”
She walked over and felt Sang You’s forehead.
“Where’s A Ze?”
It was only noon. Sang You remembered Gong Ze saying he would stay until lunchtime before leaving. Thinking that Gong Ze had merely stepped out to the bathroom, he asked the auntie expectantly.
“Mr. Gong went to the company.”
The auntie, speaking with a soft Southern accent, said.
Sang You was taken aback. He instinctively looked at the small alarm clock by the bed — it was exactly twelve o’clock, the Sang family’s usual mealtime. “He left? Without eating?”
“No, he didn’t…”
The auntie said, “Maybe something urgent came up at the company. Mr. Gong left in a hurry, and he didn’t look very happy either.”
“Mr. Gong is just like that. Back when he first took over the company, he was busy every day. Sometimes he came home very late, or he’d look over documents in the study for a long time. If he didn’t have time to eat, he’d ask me to cook him a bowl of noodles.”
The auntie was older, kind, and slightly prone to rambling.
She said, “Oh dear, work is important, but you can’t just rush through meals every day. An irregular diet will lead to stomach problems.”
Sang You frowned.
He remembered that since they had just won the new project yesterday, there would surely be meetings to arrange. And he himself was sick and needed care. Gong Ze had rushed off to the company right at lunchtime — there was no way he would have time to eat.
A sharp ache of heartache filled Sang You.
The more he thought about it, the more worried he became. Sang You threw off the covers and jumped out of bed. “Auntie, pack two portions of food for me. I’m going to the company to bring him lunch!”
“Oh no, you can’t! Young master, you just broke your fever—”
“It’s fine. I’ll wear a hat and wrap up warmly. Have the driver take me.”
“But—”
Before the auntie could finish, Sang You went running off to wash up.
The auntie was a household servant; of course, she had no right to forcefully stop her employer. Though she muttered under her breath about him getting sick, she still followed orders and packed the food.
Half an hour later, Sang You was bundled up tightly, wearing a mask and hat, and clutching a large insulated lunch box. He left home and headed straight for the company.
Once at the company, Sang You walked all the way inside, swiped his employee card to access the office floor. Dressed so thickly, none of his coworkers recognized him — and he even caught a few gossiping about him behind his back.
A government tender of that magnitude — even the company’s upper management wouldn’t dare brag about winning it. Who would have thought a nineteen-year-old young master could pull it off?
As word spread, it was inevitable that some people would spin conspiracy theories and make sour comments.
Sang You didn’t even pause as he passed them, acting as if he hadn’t heard a thing.
When he first took on the project, they said he got in through the back door and lacked qualifications. Now that he had succeeded, they said the project was easy and anyone could have done it.
In the past, Sang You would have been upset by their doubts. Now, he simply couldn’t be bothered with them.
He didn’t care what others said — as long as Gong Ze liked him, that was enough.
Cheerfully, the young master pushed open the door to the chairman’s office — only to freeze at what he saw inside.
“Where is he?”
The secretary, who was taking a tea break at her desk, saw a stranger and quickly stood up to block him, looking at Sang You warily. “Who are you? Why are you just walking into our boss’s office?”
“I’m Sang You, Secretary Zhang.”
Sang You took off his mask to show her.
Secretary Zhang was startled. Her tense expression relaxed. “I’m sorry, Young Master Sang. With you dressed so warmly, I didn’t recognize you. But I thought you were sick and took sick leave?”
“It’s fine. Just a little cold — I was fine after the injection.” Sang You shook his head and asked her, “Where’s A Ze? Why isn’t he in his office? He left in a hurry without eating, so I came to bring him lunch.”
“The boss?”
Secretary Zhang looked at him in confusion. “The boss hasn’t come to the company today.”
Sang You: “…………”
Holding the lunch box, the sweetness on Sang You’s face slowly froze.
Leave a Reply