Wan Feng’s words didn’t register at all with Ji Zechen, who remained perfectly rational in that moment.
He was fully aware that his actions toward that person always exceeded his expectations, but the feeling of losing control was terrible. Having experienced it once, he absolutely refused to repeat the same mistake.
He believed allowing her to live in his home was already his greatest concession – he certainly had neither the patience nor the necessity to help a stranger recover her memories.
“What does that have to do with me?” Ji Zechen’s eyes darkened, his expression clearly showing dissatisfaction with Wan Feng’s repeated leniency.
Wan Feng didn’t dare argue further, only nodding respectfully. “Understood, I know what to do.”
He secretly observed Master Ji’s expression, almost certain that this time he wouldn’t act impulsively again, as if convinced the girl’s good days were completely over.
The current issue, presumably, should be considering how to minimize the damage caused by electroshock therapy.
“Knock knock…”
The knocking sound drew both men’s attention simultaneously. A black-clad man stood at the door, standing straight with imposing presence, though the cartoon-patterned bag in his hand created a contrasting cute effect.
“What is it?” Ji Zechen’s deep gaze fell on the bag held by the crew-cut bodyguard, somewhat heavy.
“This.” The crew-cut bodyguard placed the bag on Ji Zechen’s desk. “Miss Ji asked me to deliver it, saying it’s your lunch.”
Miss Ji?
Ji Zechen rubbed his nose, glancing at the strikingly mismatched bag, faintly able to see the note inside.
The handwriting was quite cute, even featuring hand-drawn cartoon characters – every stroke describing her sentiments.
Squinting slightly, he remained silent, and no one could discern his current emotions.
But Wan Feng could guess about seventy to eighty percent, quickly seizing the opportunity to test, “Master Ji, about that girl’s treatment plan…”
Between “Miss Ji” and such an adorable cartoon bag, it wasn’t hard to guess these things came from the girl. Based on his years of understanding Master Ji, he suddenly felt there might still be room for maneuver in this matter.
Ji Zechen’s brow furrowed slightly, carrying indescribable profound meaning.
“Leave it for now,” he said. “I’m busy these days, we’ll deal with her matter later.”
This was clearly giving himself an way out.
Wan Feng’s eyebrows lifted imperceptibly as he verbally agreed repeatedly, then tactfully left the office with the crew-cut bodyguard, preserving Master Ji’s face as he softened.
He secretly marveled at how timely the girl’s delivered lunch was – perhaps even she hadn’t expected it would become her lifesaver.
In the office, Ji Zechen’s attention lingered on the item only briefly before shifting away. He didn’t touch it, leaving it where it was.
But his honest physical reaction made his already insufficiently firm will appear even more precarious. He hadn’t felt hungry before, but now his stomach felt completely empty.
Almost simultaneously, a message popped up from his phone’s whitelist:
[Although brother said Ze Xi’s cooking was terrible and hurt Ze Xi’s feelings, Ze Xi still needs to take care of brother’s stomach. Lunch has been approved by Aunt Li – it won’t be too bad, brother can rest assured (ΘへΘ)]
“Hmm.”..” Actually, last night’s porridge wasn’t that terrible either.
Ji Zechen expressionlessly put down his phone, picked up the coffee beside him and took a sip, his Adam’s apple moving up and down.
After a short while, the aroma of food filled the spacious room.
…
At Banyan River Villa, after receiving the tip-off from the crew-cut bodyguard, Shu Qianzhi immediately composed a message and sent it to Ji Zechen, but never received his reply.
Fortunately, this was expected, so she wasn’t too disappointed.
After finishing her own lunch, she returned to the bedroom and buried herself in the covers again.
This lifestyle was actually somewhat boring for her – she needed to find an opportunity to get some fresh air, or she’d eventually suffocate here.
Thinking this, she opened her phone again, downloaded the long-unused WeChat, and registered a WeChat account using her current phone number.
After completing registration, she first searched for Ji Zechen’s WeChat using his phone number, seeing his nickname and profile picture.
The profile picture was completely black, the nickname a single letter “J”, with no Moments.
He seemed like a very boring person.
But she liked that.
Her finger hovered over the “Add Friend” interface for a moment, but she ultimately didn’t press it, instead exiting the interface.
Ji Zechen had said he wouldn’t agree to her friend request, but more importantly, she didn’t want to appear too proactive.
She had her own pride too. Though she currently lacked the capital to discuss such things, she still wanted to maintain some initiative.
One shouldn’t do things too excessively – she should leave appropriate space to stay by Ji Zechen’s side longer.