Jing Nian emerged from the bathroom, still damp with steam.
The air conditioner was on in the living room. He wore a thin little bear-patterned pajama set with a wide, open collar.
Beads of warm water slid down his smooth, pale neck. As he towel-dried his hair, he walked over to the sofa and picked up his phone, which was charging.
Little Rabbit was doubled over with laughter at Tom’s antics on TV, as if seeing the bully tabby cat he had teased earlier that day.
What’s a “Sang Biao”? Even he would have to turn into a little kitty when facing Little Rabbit!
Jing Nian glanced at him but said nothing. Just then, his phone screen lit up with a barrage of messages from Qiu Huai.
He checked the time—contact at this hour was never good news. It was highly likely he’d be dragged out of bed to work overtime.
He had already prepared his excuse: the recently neutered fat tomcat downstairs was giving birth today, and he had to assist.
But when he opened the messages, he realized his prepared excuse was unnecessary.
【Jing Nian, what on earth did you do?!!】
【Ahhhh!!】
【Why did you delete the waiter we just added tonight?! Ahhhhh—!!】
【[Frantically pulling hair][Frantically pulling hair][Frantically pulling hair]】
Jing Nian tilted his head slowly, his eyes filled with question marks.
??
He hadn’t deleted anyone.
He’d just taken a shower after getting home—really hadn’t done anything.
His gaze locked onto the suspect rabbit, who was about to tumble completely into the sofa crevice.
The suspect rabbit was fully absorbed in the TV, but Jing Nian’s stare was too intense to ignore.
Reluctantly, the rabbit paused the show and grumbled, “What?”
“Did you touch my phone?”
Little Rabbit immediately jumped up proudly, paws on his hips, his tone brimming with pride. “You noticed already? That’s right! Little Rabbit helped you delete a contact, preventing another tea-selling scam like last time!”
Jing Nian fell silent for a moment before explaining, “That wasn’t a tea seller. That was a hotel waiter.”
Little Rabbit was even more confused. “Why would you add a waiter?”
Jing Nian handed him the phone to show Qiu Huai’s screen full of exclamation marks.
Little Rabbit scratched his furry head with a paw. “That Ghost Lord is unreliable too, full of schemes. Who knows what plot he’s cooking up now.”
Jing Nian had only added the contact out of politeness after that meal, but hearing Little Rabbit’s analysis, it suddenly made sense.
Besides, he was about to resign soon. He couldn’t afford to fall into the old ghost’s trap at a time like this.
He sent a message to Qiu Huai demanding an explanation.
The nickname above the chat box repeatedly showed “typing…” Qiu Huai typed for a long time, only to squeeze out one short sentence:
【Hotel performance metrics. Nian Nian, please do me a favor and help out.】
Jing Nian stared at the line for three seconds. Since when did hotel performance involve waiters adding customers on WeChat?
That sounded more like the “performance” of a nightclub hustler!
Naturally, he didn’t believe it. But the next second, Jiang Jue’s friend request popped up again.
At the same time, Qiu Huai sent another message: 【A thousand-yuan bonus!】
Jing Nian: “…”
This was too much of a coincidence—so much so that it was hard not to believe the two were in cahoots.
After accepting the friend request, the two messages Jiang Jue had sent earlier appeared in full.
Sitting cross-legged on the sofa, Jing Nian frowned at the string of messages, questioning his life choices.
First, caring greetings and concern. Then, chatting about family background. Next, discussing views on relationships. Soon, it would be time to get down to business and start “working.”
Where did Qiu Huai find such a dedicated model guy?
Jiang Jue had the looks, but he wasn’t that kind of person.
It was fine to just look at men from the outside—going too far would get him disciplined by his father.
Oh, wait—it was the men he looked at who would get disciplined.
There was a time when Gu Yehan was busy with business, and Jing Nian, having no one to keep him company, became obsessed with a dancer at the songhouse. The dancer deliberately swayed his body in a seductive manner, making Jing Nian unable to resist. He showered him with money like rain, booking the place every day just to have the dancer perform for him alone.
Until the dancer grew bolder and tried to climb into the young master’s bed. Alone with Jing Nian in a private room, he took advantage of pouring wine to brush his hand against Jing Nian’s fair, soft skin—only to be caught red-handed by Gu Yehan, who walked in at that very moment.
Gu Yehan had never punished him before, and Jing Nian didn’t know what fear was. He blinked his innocent, wide eyes, each blink tugging at Gu Yehan’s heartstrings.
“Father…?”
The man glared darkly at the panicked dancer before turning to Jing Nian, his expression softening instantly. He bent down and lifted Jing Nian up with one arm.
“A’Nian, this isn’t a place for children. Let’s go home, be good.”
“But Father said yesterday that I’ve grown up.”
Gu Yehan pinched his cheek affectionately, offering no rebuttal.
From then on, Jing Nian was practically attached to Gu Yehan like a little accessory. He still occasionally visited the songhouse, but only under Gu Yehan’s supervision—and he never saw that dancer again.
After much thought, Jing Nian still didn’t dare accept the model guy. It would be like indirectly harming him. He quickly forwarded Qiu Huai’s contact card.
【My family is strict. You all have fun.】
…
Inside the hotel.
Jiang Jue looked at the newly accepted friend request, but before he could feel happy, the other party sent over a contact card.
Jiang Jue stared at Qiu Huai’s profile picture, lost in thought once again.
Family? Which family?
Did A’Nian have another family besides him?
He took a screenshot and sent it to Qiu Huai. 【What does this mean?】
Qiu Huai nearly choked when he saw it. His hands trembled as he held his phone for a long moment before tapping a 🙏 emoji.
Before bed, Jing Nian sent a message to his colleague taking over the shift to update him on the work progress, then collapsed into sleep, unable to stay awake any longer.
Little Rabbit finished watching the end of an episode on the sofa, satisfied, and turned off the TV. He hopped happily to the bedroom door.
The door was left slightly ajar—a habit of Jing Nian’s, knowing Little Rabbit stayed up late and leaving it open for him every night.
Little Rabbit nudged the gap open with his head and slipped inside, gathering momentum before leaping onto the bed.
Right in front of him was Jing Nian’s sleeping face, magnified in proximity. Half of his face was buried in the soft pillow, his skin fair and tender, the plump flesh of his cheeks slightly pressed by the pillow, making one want to poke it.
Having been with Jing Nian all these years, Little Rabbit was more than just a pet—they had long regarded each other as family. Though they often bickered and teased each other, deep down, they only wished the best for one another.
Looking at Jing Nian’s utterly defenseless, adorably dazed sleeping face, Little Rabbit gently raised his furry little paw and patted the top of Jing Nian’s head in a caring manner.
“Goodnight, Nian Nian.”
With that, he burrowed into the small nest beside Jing Nian’s pillow, curling himself into a fluffy, kiwifruit-like ball.
Jing Nian slept straight through until noon the next day, only to be woken up by a pair of powerful rabbit feet kicking him.
This was the little rabbit’s unique wake-up ritual: first, scratch the face with its paws; when the person in bed grumbled unhappily and buried their head under the blanket, it was time to transform into a bouncy rabbit ball, hopping all over the bed; and finally, use those two hind legs to kick.
“Nian Nian, stop sleeping! Time to get up—!”
Jing Nian, utterly annoyed, flung the blanket aside. “What are you doing?!”
“If you don’t get up soon, your little rabbit is going to starve to death!” The rabbit stopped bouncing and clutched its rumbling stomach.
Jing Nian, his face full of impatience, buried his head back into the pillow. “Order takeout yourself.”
He wasn’t working today and had finally managed to sleep in, only to have this stupid rabbit ruin it.
Even the dream of the eight-pack hunk was gone!
“I don’t want takeout!”
The rabbit grew angry thinking about the meat-heavy restaurants on the delivery apps. Such a big platform, yet not a single one sold cold mixed timothy grass!
It missed the taste of those two lettuce leaves from last night.
“I want last night’s leftovers.”
“Just those two lettuce leaves! Didn’t you add that hotel waiter back? Hurry up and ask him to deliver!”
Jing Nian lifted one eye from the pillow to look at it. “Do you think I’m made of money?”
Forget whether a high-end hotel even offered delivery—even if they did, he couldn’t afford it.
Besides, that model guy seemed very interested in him and might try something.
Sigh, it was all because he was such an innocent young boy.
The rabbit’s stomach growled again, and it immediately softened its tone, nuzzling against Jing Nian’s face.
“Nian Nian~ Little rabbit just wants something vegetarian, please say yes~ I promise I’ll stay quietly in the office whenever you go out on assignments from now on, and never run around again!”
Jing Nian knew its nature all too well. The promises made in the morning would be forgotten by lunchtime, devoured along with the timothy grass.
But if he didn’t agree, it would nag him from noon until night, and then from night until the next morning.
Jing Nian sat up weakly from the bed, grabbed the rabbit, and gave it a thorough ruffling, burying his face into its soft belly and taking several deep breaths.
He loved cute things and had a case of cute aggression. Only after venting did he reluctantly pull out his phone and send a message to Jiang Jue.
[Can you deliver yesterday’s dish? Just the greens.]
He had checked the menu—the fried fish fillet cost 3,988. If it was just the lettuce leaves, paying a fraction of that should still be manageable.
After sending the message, Jing Nian felt it was inappropriate. To prove this wasn’t some strange secret code, he grabbed the still struggling rabbit and took a photo with the camera.
[I’m feeding the rabbit.]
…
After taking office, the Supreme Emperor had disappeared for several months in a row and had only recently made a formal appearance to take over his duties, attending meeting after meeting.
But that didn’t stop him from reading Jing Nian’s message instantly.
The first thing that caught his eye was an enlarged photo of a rabbit.
A small brown dwarf rabbit, its size looking as if it hadn’t been weaned, clutched in a hand like a kiwi fruit. In the moment the photo was taken, the rabbit was struggling and kicking wildly.
But Jiang Jue’s attention wasn’t on the kiwi fruit at all. His gaze fell on the blurry face behind the fluffy creature.
Jing Nian had used the front camera, focusing on the rabbit, and inadvertently captured half of his own face in the shot. It was a bit blurry, but the contours of his eyes and brows were still faintly discernible.
Jiang Jue gently traced his fingers across the screen, slowly zooming in as the sharpness in his eyes gradually softened into tenderness.
He silently tapped to save the image.
The next moment, Jing Nian sent over the address.
Jiang Jue frowned slightly at the detailed house number. This child was often careless—sending an address so casually to a stranger was not a good habit.
【Alright, wait for me. I’ll be there soon.】
In the vast conference room, a group of divine officials watched as the Tai Xuan Emperor abruptly ended the meeting, grabbed his coat, and strode out.
Everyone exchanged bewildered glances.
A new official often makes a strong start, but this Emperor’s sudden arrival had been inexplicable. After his inauguration ceremony, he had disappeared for a long time, yet he had been personally appointed by the Heavenly Dao, so no one dared to voice any objections.
Most had tried to curry favor, probing for his preferences.
But over the past few days, Jiang Jue had remained impeccably composed, polite yet distant in his interactions.
Only in that moment when he glanced at his phone did he finally reveal a hint of emotion.