15 – Display Perspective
Jiang Heng had just finished lunch when he received Pei Qingji’s WeChat message, and he hurriedly rushed back.
Last month, when Pei Qingji went to handle matters at the New York branch, Jiang Heng hadn’t gone with him. Instead, he had stayed at the headquarters here. As the executive assistant, it was convenient for him to report any issues to Pei Qingji.
According to the original plan, Pei Qingji wasn’t supposed to return until at least next week. Unexpectedly, he had come back this much earlier—and he hadn’t even asked Jiang Heng to pick him up.
Jiang Heng knocked on the door while walking in, meeting Pei Qingji’s gaze as he stood in front of the desk.
Whether it was just his imagination or not, he felt like there was a hint of… fluster on Pei Qingji?
“President Pei?” Jiang Heng called out again.
Pei Qingji gave a light cough. “Mm, you got back pretty quickly.”
“If you called me back, I had to come quickly.”
Jiang Heng said as he walked further in, finding it odd that Pei Qingji’s jacket was draped over the monitor at the corner of the desk—wasn’t the standing coat rack right there beside it?
Thinking back to how Pei Qingji usually found him when he had matters to discuss, they would sit face-to-face and chat. He figured he’d go over first to hang up the suit for him, and then he could sit down as well.
But just as he was halfway there, Pei Qingji quickly spoke up to stop him: “Stop. Stay right where you are.”
Jiang Heng was startled by his forceful tone, freezing in place without daring to move.
“Pei… President Pei?”
Jiang Heng called out hesitantly, not knowing what was going on—but Pei Qingji’s ears seemed to have turned a bit red.
“President Pei, is it a bit warm in here?”
“Cough, cough, cough. Yeah, a little.”
“Then I’ll go lower the air conditioning temperature.”
With that, Jiang Heng headed back toward the door. Pei Qingji didn’t stop him, but instead shifted his gaze from Jiang Heng to the monitor on the corner of the desk.
He had been so flustered when covering it with his jacket that a small portion hadn’t been fully concealed—and that exposed portion happened to show the area of the wardrobe in the restroom.
The company’s cleaning services had always been outsourced. To protect the rights of both parties, cameras had been installed everywhere except the restrooms, including his lounge and office.
However, his lounge and office were on a separate surveillance system, with the monitor placed on his desk—only he could view it.
He had only intended to check on how Wen Song was sleeping from here, never imagining there would be such a tantalizing scene.
When Jiang Heng knocked on the door, he had just caught the moment Wen Song’s bath towel slipped off.
His first instinct, terrified that Jiang Heng might come in and see something, was to cover it with his hand. Fortunately, he quickly snapped out of it and rushed to grab his suit jacket to cover the screen.
But his movements had been a bit frantic, so it hadn’t been covered properly.
On the monitor, Wen Song had re-wrapped her bath towel. She bent down to look at the wardrobe, noticed the switch beneath the handle, and this time successfully opened it.
He had indeed prepared some dresses for her in advance, but he had completely forgotten about sleepwear—because he didn’t have any of that in his own lounge either.
Wen Song flipped through the hanging dresses and pulled out one in baby blue, holding it up against herself to compare.
But she was probably worried that sleeping in it would wrinkle the dress, so she only took it out for a look before putting it back.
She paused briefly in front of the wardrobe, then finally reached for his shirt.
Wen Song unwrapped the bath towel and slipped on the shirt, then began buttoning it up at a leisurely pace.
The hair she had pinned up at the back of her head was starting to misbehave too, strands of it falling loose from time to time.
She stood there, doing nothing more than the simplest of actions, yet she was still utterly captivating.
After putting on the shirt, she crouched down and found fresh underwear and a bra in the drawer beneath the wardrobe. But since she didn’t need to wear a bra to sleep, she only took out a pair of panties.
Tearing open the packaging, she held the little garment and stepped into it. Pei Qingji’s gaze lingered on her straight, slender legs.
“President Pei.”
Jiang Heng’s voice came again. Pei Qingji coughed lightly into his hand and quickly turned his head to look at Jiang Heng.
Seeing that his face seemed to have turned red, Jiang Heng quickly said, “I turned the air conditioning down two degrees. It should cool off soon.”
“Mm.” Pei Qingji nodded casually and raised his hand again to stop Jiang Heng from coming any closer.
This time, he wasn’t startled. Jiang Heng noticed that there seemed to be something extra on Pei Qingji’s hand.
At first glance, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. He blinked and looked again—damn, it really did seem to be what he thought it was.
“President Pei, y-y-y-y-you…”
This time, Jiang Heng was genuinely at a loss for words, unable to figure out what to say next.
Pei Qingji followed his gaze to his own hand. Besides the ring, he could even recall the feeling of Wen Song grabbing his hand at that moment.
A faint curve lifted the corner of his lips, but it left Jiang Heng, standing not far away, completely dumbfounded.
He suspected he was an undercooked mushroom, or else he was hallucinating from work.
His boss, that big, stern-faced, never-smiling man?!
Who was this person who looked like he’d been possessed?!
Pei Qingji was lost in his memories of Wen Song, while Jiang Heng was lost in the terrifying realization that his boss seemed to have mutated.
Fortunately, it was Pei Qingji who snapped back to his senses first. He cleared his throat and said, “I need you to do something.”
“Please go ahead, President Pei.”
“Go buy some desserts from that shop on the top floor of New Century. They don’t do delivery.”
Jiang Heng looked bewildered, clearly having no idea when Pei Qingji had started eating desserts.
Pei Qingji waved his hand. “And grab a cup of their thick milk tea while you’re at it. Hot.”
Jiang Heng was a bit slow on the uptake, but at this point, he could roughly piece things together.
He instinctively wanted to look behind him, but Pei Qingji immediately stopped him.
“Don’t look. Get out.”
Jiang Heng froze mid-turn. Wait—if he hadn’t gone blind just now, the restroom door should have been closed, right?
Was he so protective of his wife that Jiang Heng couldn’t even look at the door panel now?
“Still not leaving?” Pei Qingji’s voice rang out again.
Jiang Heng covered his eyes with one hand and walked out. “I’m going, I’m going.”
Now this ice-cold boss was more like it.
Pei Qingji watched Jiang Heng reach the door. As it clicked shut, he immediately went over and locked the office door.
Once he was sure no one else would suddenly appear, Pei Qingji tugged at his tie and strode quickly toward the restroom.