14 – Making Money to Raise the Baby
It wasn’t an exaggeration on Wen Song’s part—she was a textbook case of “bed-brain.”
Especially after a long day of work, coming home and lying down in bed was pure bliss.
She hurried toward the lounge, and Pei Qingji, who was following behind her, couldn’t help but laugh at her eagerness.
Wen Song reached the lounge door, opened it, spread her arms wide, and flopped straight onto the bed.
Even though the mattress was soft, the way she just threw herself down still startled Pei Qingji.
Wen Song rolled over once on the bed, wrapping the blanket around herself in the process.
She clutched the blanket with both hands and blinked up at Pei Qingji. “Go do your thing. I’m going to sleep.”
“Just like that?” He pressed his lips together and gave her a once-over.
Wen Song yawned. “What’s wrong with this?”
Pei Qingji was both exasperated and amused. He simply bent down and peeled her out of the blanket.
He scooped her up horizontally and walked toward the bathroom, saying, “Go take off your makeup, wash your face and feet, and then lie down properly in bed to sleep.”
Given how lazy she’d just been—not even taking off her shoes, leaving them dangling off the edge, her hair still pinned up, and her face still wearing makeup—there was no way she’d sleep comfortably like that.
Wen Song blinked and stared at him. “You know about removing makeup? Where did you get makeup remover here? Did some other woman leave it behind?”
The moment the words left her mouth, Pei Qingji set her down on the floor.
Her lower back pressed against the sink counter as Pei Qingji placed his hands on either side of her, trapping her firmly in front of him.
The smile had faded from Pei Qingji’s face, and he looked exactly like the serious, almost old-fashioned Professor Pei that Wen Song had once seen standing at the podium.
“What’s wrong…”
Pei Qingji’s eyes swept across her features, finally settling on her lips as they parted and closed.
“Wen Song.” His voice was low, sounding a little dangerous.
“Hmm?”
“Didn’t I tell you before that I’ve never had another woman?”
Wen Song licked her lips nervously. He had indeed said that yesterday, but she’d just blurted it out on reflex—she was only trying to make a joke…
But Pei Qingji didn’t seem to have gotten it, and he even seemed a little angry.
Knowing full well that if the other person doesn’t find it funny, it’s not a joke, Wen Song obediently apologized.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
Before she could finish, Pei Qingji leaned down, and his lips landed precisely on hers.
Even though it was just a brief peck, Wen Song was still stunned.
“What are you doing!”
“Maybe it’s because my performance hasn’t been good enough, making you think I had other women before. But I want to reiterate: I haven’t. Also, don’t say sorry to me from now on. Polite words are for strangers—don’t say them to me.”
The first part was easy to understand—it was just an explanation regarding her “other woman” comment.
But the second part—hadn’t he said this morning that she didn’t need to say “thank you”? Now she didn’t even have the freedom to say “sorry”?
Wen Song muttered under her breath, “You never said I couldn’t say it.”
“Hmm?” Pei Qingji pretended not to hear and bent down to lean in closer.
Wen Song knew he was deliberately pretending not to hear. She huffed indignantly and accused him, “Is that your excuse for kissing me?”
Pei Qingji let out a low chuckle. “Then why don’t you kiss me back?”
“Dream on!”
With that, Wen Song reached out and pushed his face away, then ducked under his arm and slipped out.
She pushed him toward the door as she spoke. “Hurry up and go. You should get to work.”
“I’m not busy.”
“You are busy.”
“I’m not.” Pei Qingji insisted on contradicting her.
“You ARE busy!!! You need to go earn money for the baby!”
Pei Qingji stopped and turned to look at her. “Oh? Which baby?”
Wen Song was caught off guard again, almost not registering what he meant.
When it finally clicked, her face flushed red. She looked up to see Pei Qingji grinning.
“You’re not allowed to take advantage of me!”
Seeing that she was about to bristle, Pei Qingji held back his laughter.
He softened his voice to soothe her. “Go see if you like the things I prepared. If not, I’ll have someone bring new ones over.”
Wen Song let him smoothly steer the conversation away. “So when did you prepare all this?”
“Yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” Wen Song repeated.
Yesterday they still didn’t know whether they could even get married, yet he was already thinking ahead, even considering her needs in the company’s lounge.
“Weren’t you afraid yesterday that my parents would kick you out?”
Pei Qingji nodded, but then shook his head. “I was worried, but I would have persisted. I would have moved my in-laws with sincerity.”
Wen Song’s eyes had been fixed on him the whole time, able to catch every subtle change in his expression.
She always felt that Pei Qingji’s behavior was strange—including the betrothal gifts yesterday. The level of importance he showed was clearly not what one would expect toward a wife with no emotional foundation.
She was a bit curious. “I feel like the way you treat me is good to the point of being excessive.”
“Excessive?” He shook his head. “I value you very much.”
Pei Qingji paused there, and Wen Song felt like she had just heard something extraordinary.
But the very next second, Pei Qingji, who had been holding his breath, spoke again.
His gaze swept over her still-flat abdomen, and he said softly, “I value the child in your belly very much. It’s my first child.”
Hearing that, Wen Song actually felt it was more normal, and the psychological burden lightened considerably.
She waved him off. “Got it. I value this child too. You go get busy—I’m really sleepy.”
This time Pei Qingji nodded, no longer continuing to “bicker” with her.
Seeing the lounge door close, she turned and headed to the bathroom.
The company’s lounge couldn’t compare to the conditions at home, but it had everything needed.
Wen Song stood at the sink, a mirror in front of her and a glass storage cabinet beside her, filled with women’s skincare products.
She took them all out, checking the ingredient lists while searching the formulas online, confirming that everything was safe for pregnant women.
Whether they were prepared by Pei Qingji’s subordinates or by himself, they all proved his thoughtfulness.
Wen Song curved her lips into a smile and lowered her head to start removing her makeup and washing her face.
She found a new pair of women’s slippers under the cabinet and thought that since she was going to wash her feet anyway, she might as well just take a shower.
But it was only after she came out that she realized a problem—she hadn’t brought any change of clothes with her today.
She had a strange habit, whether it counted as a form of cleanliness obsession or not.
In the sweltering summer heat, as long as she hadn’t taken her clothes off, she could endure even being drenched in sweat until she got home to shower and change. But once she took them off, she absolutely could not bear to put them back on.
She stared in silence at the white dress she had tossed into the laundry basket, but her mind churned for a moment before a thought suddenly struck her.
If Pei Qingji had thought far enough ahead to prepare even toiletries, there should be women’s clothing here too, right?
With that, she wrapped herself in the bath towel and left the bathroom, heading straight for the wardrobe.
Something was off—no matter how much effort she put in, she couldn’t get the wardrobe open, and the bath towel, already barely hanging on, slipped right off.
Wen Song was startled, her eyes darting anxiously toward the door as she quickly snatched up the towel and wrapped it around herself again.
“President Pei—”
Hearing the knock at the door, Pei Qingji scrambled to his feet, grabbing the suit jacket draped nearby and covering the monitor with it.