He looked at her, only a pair of eyes peeking out from under the covers, and asked, ”Who are you?”
His voice was still hoarse, but the tone was no longer that of last night’s drunk.
Jiang Miao glanced at the apron beside her and blinked. ”I’m a pastry chef. I came last night to deliver desserts to Fu.”
Ji Baishang’s expression twisted slightly. Clearly, he hadn’t expected that after being drugged, the person behind it had only sent him a pastry chef…
Shouldn’t they have found some noble, caught him in bed with them, and then forced him into marriage?
Jiang Miao shrank into the covers and kindly offered, ”I was just helping the guest upstairs to rest. Wrong room. But last night, a beautiful woman in an evening gown did come in…”
“Mm, I remember now.” Ji Baishang rubbed his aching head, a flash of ruthlessness passing through his eyes before vanishing just as quickly.
Then he reached out and pulled the covers down from her face.
He looked at her for several seconds.
Then he said something that made Jiang Miao’s brain short-circuit—
“Would you come with me?”
Jiang Miao didn’t understand. “Huh? …Where? To do what?”
Ji Baishang leaned halfway over, one elbow propped on the bed, the other hand resting on her hair, fingers lazily twirling the ends of it. “To my place. As my pastry chef.”
His tone was casual, but his gaze was anything but.
He was looking at her. Very intently.
Jiang Miao couldn’t believe her desserts were so irresistibly delicious that they’d captured Ji Baishang’s tongue—was he really recruiting her on the spot?
But she had no desire to be anyone’s pastry chef, so she casually threw out a number to make him back off: “I’m very expensive, you know. For those desserts last night, Fu paid a hundred thousand. Even if you can’t eat three hundred servings a month, my monthly salary can’t be less than a hundred thousand.”
Ji Baishang’s hand, still ruffling her hair, paused.
His expression visibly soured.
Jiang Miao thought: Good, rich people really don’t like being bargained with. That saves me the trouble.
The next second—
“Fine. I’ll double it. Come work for me.”
Jiang Miao’s pupils quaked. “Huh?”
Ji Baishang simply scooped her right out of the covers. One hand supporting her back, the other at her waist, his movements as natural as picking up a cat.
Jiang Miao was airborne for an instant and instinctively grabbed his shoulders—firm and springy, an amazing feel.
Ji Baishang raised his hand, his thumb pad brushing over her lips, bitten red.
His rough calluses scraped across her tender skin, tickling so much that she turned her head away to dodge.
The next second, both his hands came up and covered her ears, holding her head in place.
He stared at her, his nose nearly touching hers, his warm breath sweeping just above her lips.
His gaze wasn’t appraising—it was the way a man looks at a woman, tinged with a hint of just-woke-up languor and a trace of undisguised interest.
Jiang Miao’s heart began pounding wildly. Wait—could he have recognized her?
Ji Baishang suddenly let her go, turned his head aside, and coughed lightly.
“Keep me company tonight.” He paused, then completed the sentence—”Cooking. I’ll multiply your pay by ten.”
Jiang Miao’s eyes went wide.
The abacus in her head started clacking furiously. Doubled, that’s two hundred thousand. Times ten more—two million?!
Wait. Wait, wait, wait.
She forcibly dragged herself out of the whirlpool of numbers.
As important as making money was, this wasn’t the way to do it.
Besides—she stole a glance at Ji Baishang—his honey-toned skin was clearly flushed with red.
The little flame inside Jiang Miao that had just been snuffed out whooshed back up again. And it burned even higher than before.
His reaction meant he liked her!
Which meant there was a chance to win him back!
To confirm it further, Jiang Miao suppressed her wildly curling lips and tested the waters: “Then… the two hundred thousand for the dessert can’t be reduced either.”
Ji Baishang turned his head to look at her, his face full of disbelief: “Are you really that hard up for money?”
“Mm, hard up.”
The corner of his mouth twitched.
Then he smiled.
His lips curved upward, that tiny mole riding up along with them, the bloodshot in his eyes softened by the smile—he looked, frankly, a little lethal.
“Don’t worry. It’ll only be more, never less.”
He bent down to pick up the clothes beside them and handed them to her. Then he asked, “Want me to help you get dressed?”
Jiang Miao raised her eyebrows. This was one good thing about this world—men had a service-minded attitude toward women.
She nodded generously: “Sure.”
The corner of Ji Baishang’s mouth twitched again: “You really don’t hold back.”
He lifted the covers, picked up the clothes, and studied which side was front and back. Then he started dressing her. His movements were clumsy but careful. When slipping her arm into the sleeve, he held her wrist and guided it in; when tying the apron, his fingers brushed along her waist, the calluses on his fingertips catching the fabric at her waist—and catching her ticklish spot along the way.
Jiang Miao drew a deep breath, suppressing the flame that had nearly been rekindled.
Once she was dressed, he got out of bed and picked up his own clothes, putting them on piece by piece.
Jiang Miao leaned against the headboard and watched him openly.
Broad shoulders. Back muscles tightening and loosening with each movement, and worst of all, that waistline—below a ten-pack, two knife-carved lines ran downward. When he pulled his shirt over his head, the fabric fell and covered the outline, but that half-hidden glimpse was more maddening than full exposure.
He had some old scars on his body—one on his back, one along his ribs, even one on his butt—which only made him look more beautiful.
Tall, handsome, with a great body. Taking him out would be such a point of pride!
As Ji Baishang buttoned his shirt, he glanced up and ran right into her gaze.
Jiang Miao beamed at him happily.
Ji Baishang paused for an instant, then kept buttoning. His movements got a little faster.
Only when they were both fully dressed did he ask: “What’s your name?”
“You can call me Miaomiao.”
They exchanged contact information. He sent her his address: “How many days do you need to take care of things on your end?”
“We can set a time. I won’t be staying at your place.” As Jiang Miao spoke, her eyes turned red on cue, her voice automatically loading a tearful tone, “I have an older brother who’s a fool—he can’t be without me. I have to look after him at all times. Last night a sister was helping take care of him, but I can’t trouble her every day.”
A trace of restrained sympathy flickered in Ji Baishang’s eyes. “That’s impressive of you.”
Jiang Miao thought, gotta return the polite flattery: “You’re impressive too.”
Ji Baishang’s expression suddenly changed.
Subtle. Very subtle.
He paused for a beat first, then the corner of his mouth lifted slightly at an extremely suspicious angle, his eyes switching from “serious” to something with a different undertone—not awkwardness, not embarrassment, but a faint smugness of the “oh? you think so?” variety.
He tilted his head to glance at her, his voice dropping half a tone, the ends of his words curling upward: “Later, I’ll let you experience something even more impressive.”
Jiang Miao: “…”
Wait… hold on…
What she had said was “you’re impressive too”—meaning she was complimenting him on being capable, well-born, and successful—standard social pleasantries.
Did he… interpret it as… some kind of… impressive performance last night?
Ji Baishang walked to the door, paused, and turned back.
“Try not to tell anyone about last night.”
“Don’t worry.”
The door closed.
Jiang Miao pulled the blanket up to the tip of her nose and stayed still for three seconds.
Then she kicked her legs wildly under the covers.
Ji Baishang.
Two million.
She pinched her own cheek to confirm she wasn’t dreaming.
One moment he said Jiang Mu had nothing to do with him, and the next he offered her an astronomical price to share his bed—along with a subtle bit of self-promotion.
Hahahaha, this was hilarious.
Best of all—winning Ji Baishang back? That was actually a real possibility!