Going home—to a home belonging to the two of them. Just the thought caused ripples of emotion to flood Qi Zhongjing’s heart.
In two words: pure bliss.
“What, afraid I’ll run away?” Hearing this, Meng Lingyao’s tone was inevitably a bit sharp. “I said I would go. For President Qi to come and intercept me with such fanfare, I’ve really troubled you.”
This blatant, repeated “cornering” showed just how much he was distrusted. Even if he was impatient, there was no need to go to such lengths.
Qi Zhongjing rubbed his nose and feigned composure, yet he couldn’t find the words to retort. He really was afraid that Meng Lingyao would run off.
Silence was his response.
Fine, Meng Lingyao understood. He packed up, stood up, and gave Qi Zhongjing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Let’s go then, President Qi. Let’s go home.”
Home. He said home.
To Qi Zhongjing, those words sounded like celestial music rather than sarcasm.
The two took the private elevator down to the garage. Meng Lingyao intended to drive his own car, but Qi Zhongjing pointed toward his own. “Let’s go together.”
Meng Lingyao didn’t bother arguing over such a small matter and got into Qi Zhongjing’s car. Compared to his own preference for flashy, colorful sports cars, the one the CEO drove was a low-key, luxury vehicle.
It exuded a mature elegance, quite different from the bold and unbridled feeling Meng Lingyao preferred.
Qi Zhongjing pulled the seatbelt across to fasten it for Meng Lingyao. Because the gesture brought them so close, Meng Lingyao frowned uncomfortably; the other man’s scent was too invasive, and the sense of pressure coming from him was too strong.
“What do you want to eat tonight?” Having successfully picked up his passenger, Qi Zhongjing was in a very pleasant mood. He asked in a familiar tone, as if they were an old married couple—a feeling he cherished.
Meng Lingyao crossed his arms and didn’t even look at him. He turned his head toward the window and tossed out two words: “Whatever.”
Qi Zhongjing started the car and headed home, his “treasure” finally hauled back.
The street scenes outside blurred into ethereal shadows due to the car’s speed.
“How about eating at home? I’ll cook for you,” Qi Zhongjing struck up a conversation, not wanting the atmosphere to grow cold.
Meng Lingyao turned to look at him with a skeptical gaze that clearly said: You know how to cook?
Facing Meng Lingyao’s suspicious expression, Qi Zhongjing smiled. “Don’t worry. It’ll be edible.”
“Suit yourself.” Meng Lingyao didn’t express any opinion on Qi Zhongjing’s decision to “wash his hands and make soup.” Whatever role-play the man wanted to engage in, let him.
It was an inconsequential matter.
He thought the drive would take some time, but it turned out to be much closer than he imagined.
It was only a ten-minute drive from the Meng Corporation building. He followed Qi Zhongjing upstairs.
At the front door, Qi Zhongjing registered his fingerprint. Yesterday, Meng Lingyao hadn’t carefully checked the address Qi Zhongjing had sent, so this was his first clear sense of the location.
The transportation here was convenient; it was clearly the city center with excellent geographical conditions. Obviously, the specifications of this residential complex weren’t something an ordinary person could afford. It was a “one elevator per household” layout, and the space was large—a two-story duplex.
Meng Lingyao peered into the house from the entryway. Qi Zhongjing stood beside him, taking out a pair of indoor slippers while giving a brief introduction of the place.
Meng Lingyao didn’t listen closely to what Qi Zhongjing was saying. He put on the slippers and surveyed the entire space like a guest.
It fit his stereotypical image of Qi Zhongjing—the interior design leaned toward gray and black tones, exuding a sense of cold, detached elegance from its very bones.
“You rest for a bit, I’ll go make dinner.” Qi Zhongjing took off his suit jacket and tossed it onto the sofa, revealing a brown shirt underneath. He rolled up his sleeves, exposing a section of his forearm.
Seeing Qi Zhongjing’s posture of actually being ready to work, Meng Lingyao instinctively followed his footsteps. Watching him enter the kitchen, Meng Lingyao stood by as Qi Zhongjing skillfully tied on a black apron.
With the shirt, suit trousers, and an apron tied around his waist, the man’s physique was robust. His muscular frame, hidden when wearing a suit, was outlined clearly through the shirt alone.
If not for the years of animosity driving him to have a naturally bad impression of the man, Meng Lingyao would have to admit that the current Qi Zhongjing possessed a natural allure.
Specifically, Qi Zhongjing looked like a refined gentleman with a handsome face—otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to successfully “dig up the walls” of his relationships for so many years. Without a good face, how could he have succeeded?
From a cold, resolute CEO to a househusband, Qi Zhongjing switched roles exceptionally naturally.
Having such a handsome man cook for him carried a peculiar significance.
Qi Zhongjing checked the prepared ingredients in the fridge and glanced at Meng Lingyao, who was standing there with his arms crossed. “What is it? Do you have dietary restrictions? Or is there something special you want to eat?”
Looking at Qi Zhongjing’s setup, Meng Lingyao said snidely, “I’m afraid you’ll poison me.”
Qi Zhongjing laughed. The smile blooming on his handsome face added even more temptation. He pointed at the ingredients. “If you’re afraid of poison, you can supervise or help me.”
Young Master Meng, who had rarely entered a kitchen since birth, rolled his eyes and returned a cold smirk. “Heh.”
In his dreams. If Qi Zhongjing wanted to play games, he wasn’t going to cooperate.
Ignoring Qi Zhongjing’s tinkering in the kitchen, he turned and wandered through the apartment with the mindset of taking a tour.
He estimated the first floor covered over 300 square meters. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the bustling scenery outside; this height allowed for a complete overlook of the streets below.
The first floor contained a study, living room, kitchen, dining room, bathroom, and a gym. Near the panoramic window was a bar with quite a collection of liquor. Because half of the living room featured a double-height ceiling, the second floor was likely smaller, housing the bedrooms.
Meng Lingyao explored the entire first floor thoroughly, as he might be living here for a while in the near future.
After observing the layout, he wandered past the kitchen again and saw Qi Zhongjing cooking with great focus, looking quite the part. It seemed he really did know how to cook.
A CEO who actually knew how to cook.
As if sensing his gaze, the man turned his head. “Hungry? It’ll be ready soon.”
Meng Lingyao didn’t speak. He drifted past the kitchen door like a ghost, his calm facial expression masking whatever thoughts he was having.
When four dishes and a soup were served, the aroma of the food, accompanied by the rising steam, drifted through the room. Meng Lingyao was called over to sit at the dining table.
The food smelled delicious. It was indeed time to eat, and smelling these obviously well-made dishes, Meng Lingyao naturally felt a sense of hunger.
He held his chopsticks but hesitated to move. The four dishes looked good in color, and the selection actually suited his tastes—they were dishes he liked.
“Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned.” As if responding to his earlier comment, Qi Zhongjing took the lead and ate a bite from every dish to show him.
Meng Lingyao wanted to be stubborn for a couple more sentences, but since he was already at the table, he couldn’t be too pretentious. Facing Qi Zhongjing’s smiling face, he began to eat in silence.
As the food entered his mouth, he had expected the other man to mess with him—maybe making it too salty or too sweet—all sorts of thoughts had crossed his mind. But to his surprise, the food tasted truly excellent.
Whether in terms of texture, flavor, or color, these were top-tier home-cooked dishes.
The two ate without speaking, with only the sound of light chewing and the occasional clink of cutlery.
Qi Zhongjing watched Meng Lingyao eat in silence, observing his expression. Seeing that he seemed satisfied, Qi Zhongjing ate his own rice with a smile, using the sight of the other man as his side dish.
Nothing could satisfy him more than seeing the person he loved eating the food he had prepared.
Unless Meng Lingyao was blind, he couldn’t miss that burning gaze. He looked up and glared at the man, but the other’s gaze remained bold and unrestrained.
Look if you want, it’s not like I’ll lose a piece of flesh.
He viciously bit into a piece of stir-fried beef, acting as if he were biting into the other man’s flesh.
Qi Zhongjing’s gaze, however, moved to the other man’s lips, which were now glistening with oil. He chewed a mouthful of rice, his eyes darkening significantly.
Even if Qi Zhongjing is a terrible person, his cooking skills are actually quite good, Meng Lingyao thought as he wiped his mouth with a napkin, feeling quite satisfied.
Young Master Meng had no sense for chores. Seeing Qi Zhongjing gather the dishes to put them in the dishwasher, he didn’t move an inch, didn’t lift a hand, and didn’t even utter a word of politeness.
After eating, Meng Lingyao waited for Qi Zhongjing’s next move. Qi Zhongjing came out of the kitchen, dried his hands, and shed his “househusband” persona. “Want to read a book or watch some TV?”
Meng Lingyao chose a movie. When the TV turned on, it was—true to Qi Zhongjing’s character—set to the financial channel.
Heh!
Meng Lingyao found a movie. The massive, crystal-clear screen occupied half a wall. He leaned back on the sofa with his legs crossed, showing no signs of being a stranger.
Qi Zhongjing went to pour him a glass of warm water, sliced some fruit, and prepared some nuts before sitting down beside him to watch.
Qi Zhongjing sat right next to Meng Lingyao. The proximity was so close that Meng Lingyao shot him a glance and shifted further away.
The sofa was so large, yet the man chose to sit right there. However, considering whose house it was and what was to happen next—which was all part of a transaction—he tolerated it.
Enduring the impatience in his heart, Meng Lingyao pursed his lips and said nothing harsh.
Qi Zhongjing didn’t move again. To be honest, Meng Lingyao had never figured out what was hidden up Qi Zhongjing’s sleeve.
From arriving here and seeing Qi Zhongjing cook personally to sitting here watching a movie, everything was outside Meng Lingyao’s expectations. He couldn’t even guess what the man’s next move would be.
Since he couldn’t guess, he stopped trying and focused on the movie. The man’s intentions would be revealed sooner or later.
The Qi Group, as a leading enterprise in Y City and famous nationwide, held many privileges. At the very least, the film Meng Lingyao was watching hadn’t even been released in domestic theaters yet.
The special effects and plot were good. Originally, Meng Lingyao had kept part of his attention on Qi Zhongjing, but after a while, he actually got sucked into the movie.
Qi Zhongjing appeared to be watching the movie, but in reality, he was watching Meng Lingyao from the corner of his eye. Seeing the other man becoming more immersed and focused, with the beauty right beside him, Qi Zhongjing naturally couldn’t help but start making some subtle, sneaky moves.