Han Ji straightened the oyster that had fallen onto the plate, then picked up a mouthful of cold-dressed ice algae with his chopsticks and chewed for a long time.
He Wenqi took a mantis shrimp and was studying how to peel the shell; this thing was much harder to peel than a crawfish, and the harder it was to get to the meat, the more he wanted to eat it.
“When did you draw it?” Han Ji watched him dismember the shrimp into a mess of pieces.
He Wenqi’s finger was pricked by the hard edge of the shell, making him flinch: “I was practicing drawing human figures; I just grabbed you for practice on a whim.”
Han Ji also picked up a mantis shrimp, twisted off the head, tail, and all the legs, skillfully peeled the entire strip of belly skin, then flipped it over to lift off the shell—a complete piece of shrimp meat fell out.
The meat landed in He Wenqi’s bowl. Han Ji said with deep meaning: “You can draw it even without having seen it?”
“It’s imagination; what’s so hard about that…” Suddenly realizing he’d let something slip, he quickly picked up the shrimp meat and stuffed it into his mouth to chew. “Mmh, tastes good. Do you know how to peel every kind of shrimp? I thought CEOs didn’t have to do things themselves.”
“When I’m eating, of course I don’t.” When you’re eating, it’s different; I just want to peel it for you myself.
“I want to see it,” Han Ji said.
“What?”
“The drawing. My—nude—portrait,” he emphasized.
He Wenqi said dismissively: “It’s been gone for a long time.”
Han Ji raised an eyebrow slightly: “It wouldn’t have been picked up by someone else, would it?”
“Don’t worry, I saved it in… cough cough cough—” Every sentence was a mistake; He Wenqi felt he had dug a pit for himself and nearly bit his tongue.
He took a sip of water to steady his breath, seeing Han Ji staring at him with a half-smile as if waiting for him to finish weaving the lie.
This time, he thought the words through in his head before speaking: “It was processed with artistic modification; no one could recognize who it is.”
“Mmh.” Han Ji nodded significantly and didn’t press further.
He Wenqi breathed a sigh of relief; that topic was finally over.
…
The rebooked flight was very late, and it was nearly midnight when they landed in Jing City.
Han Ji had contacted a driver in advance to drop He Wenqi off first before returning to the hotel himself. When the driver received the boss’s call saying to drop off the assistant first, he had never encountered such a thing before.
Once He Wenqi got home and tidied up, he lay down and stretched out his limbs on the bed. These past two days had been physically and mentally exhausting. He buried his face in the pillow and took a deep breath.
Suddenly, he flipped over and got up, rummaging through the cabinet under the desk until he found a velvet jewelry box. Inside was a silver necklace. Removing the top layer of the necklace, a capsule-shaped silver metal accessory lay quietly underneath.
He Wenqi turned on his computer, unscrewed the capsule, and plugged one end into the computer’s USB port. It was actually a tiny flash drive, exquisitely crafted to be worn as a pendant on the necklace.
Inside the drive was only one encrypted folder named “M.” He hadn’t opened it in years, but He Wenqi entered the password skillfully.
He Wenqi had only told a small part of the truth. At that age of hormonal restlessness, Han Ji was the object of his adolescent fantasies. With a heart full of whimsy and a brush fueled by desire, what he drew was far more than a simple nude portrait.
But those things he didn’t dare say, nor could he. As for the drawings, it was even more impossible to let Han Ji see them.
These drawings were even more unshowable and bolder than his sketchbook. Single person, two people, various scenes, and different postures—but all were without a stitch of clothing, indulging in wild passion. Every single one was the longing for a physical and spiritual possession of that person he once loved.
He had thought about deleting them, but in the end, he just encrypted and locked them away. Looking at them now, he was still flushed with shame and flustered.
While warning himself not to harbor improper thoughts again, he couldn’t control himself and looked through those past fantasies one by one from beginning to end. While scolding himself for his sins, he was unable to restrain himself until he was sticky with sweat and exhausted.
Having satisfied himself and lost his strength, He Wenqi panted heavily, staring blankly at the ceiling, a feeling in his heart like an endless black hole of emptiness.
The phone vibrated. He picked it up to see a message from Han Ji.
Goodnight.
He Wenqi reached out to cover his eyes, let out a deep sigh, and replied after a long while.
As I Have Heard: Goodnight.
…
The next day, work proceeded as usual.
He Wenqi first went through the matters at the front desk quickly, then brewed black coffee and brought it to Han Ji.
“89°C, no sugar.”
Han Ji was looking at the computer screen intently. Hearing his voice, he turned his gaze over and scanned the man’s face: “Did you rest well?”
“Mmh,” He Wenqi nodded. He had already drunk a cup of black coffee before leaving home to force himself to wake up. “President Han, are any extra arrangements today?”
“None for now.” Han Ji saw at a glance that he looked pale and was being insincere.
“Okay, call me if you need anything.” He Wenqi turned to leave.
Han Ji suddenly said: “The individual assessment design is due next week. You need to hurry.”
The individual assessment for the talent selection plan consisted of two design questions: a free-themed design and a commissioned design.
The free theme was to see the lead artist’s fundamental skills; everyone would bring out their best work. The commissioned design tested practical application, as design proposals in the future would have to be tailored to client requirements.
“I know.” He wouldn’t miss this opportunity.
Han Ji looked at his slender waist wrapped in a loose wool sweater: “Lunch together?”
“No thank you, President Han. I’ll just eat in the cafeteria with the others.”
He Wenqi explained: “You are the superior and CEO. For no reason at all, I don’t want other colleagues to have opinions; it wouldn’t be good if it affected anything.”
He was saying he feared being misunderstood as using his assistant status to pull strings. Han Ji was slightly displeased but said nothing more at the time.
When lunch arrived, just as He Wenqi and Ling Chen were about to go downstairs to the cafeteria, Xiao Ying from the Administrative Department called out to him.
“He Wenqi, President Han wants you to order a meal for him.”
He Wenqi was confused; Han Ji hadn’t said anything about ordering a meal earlier, and a check of his phone showed no calls or messages from him.
“What does he want to order?”
Xiao Ying had been called over by Han Ji when she came out, and he asked her to give He Wenqi a message: “He said it must be to his taste; don’t get it wrong. If it’s wrong, your salary will be docked.”
“Hiss—even docking pay for this?” Ling Chen gasped. “Is he that hard to serve?”
Another colleague nearby: “Little He, did you do something wrong and provoke President Han?”
He Wenqi thought about it; the friction between them had already been cleared up, so there didn’t seem to be any misunderstanding.
Xiao Ying handed him a slip of paper: “Here, this is the restaurant name and address. He also said you have to go pick it up yourself.”
Ling Chen expressed deep sympathy and hooked his arm around He Wenqi’s shoulder: “He Wenqi, it’s hard on you, suffering the pain of Assistant Chen’s absence. Please coax that big tiger well so our days can be easier. I’ll repay your sacrifice with a big chicken drumstick.”
He Wenqi took the paper slip from Xiao Ying with two fingers and laughingly gave Ling Chen a punch in response.
When he reached the restaurant, he learned that Han Ji had already ordered the meal; he just had to pick it up. Returning with the meal and going up the spiral staircase to the third floor, he noticed the colleagues downstairs were all looking up at him.
He Wenqi glanced at the glass partition reflecting his shadow—hair, clothes, everything was neat; nothing was abnormal.
He caught Ling Chen’s eye on the first floor; Ling Chen made a mouthing gesture from a distance, but unfortunately, He Wenqi couldn’t read lips.
Without thinking too much, he went straight to the CEO’s office.
Just as he was about to knock, a shouting match suddenly came from inside.
The hand about to knock stopped, and then he seemed to hear his own name in the bits and pieces of conversation.
He Wenqi didn’t have a habit of eavesdropping, but at this moment, he couldn’t help but listen.
“Han Ji, are you screwing with me?” It was Fang Zhenkang’s voice. “Where did I offend you? Is it because of He Wenqi? I’ve felt for a long time that the relationship between you two isn’t right. Is it because of this that you’re screwing with me?”
Han Ji’s voice was steady, calm and unhurried: “You should know clearly what you’ve done yourself; it’s not worth my personal intervention.”
“Hmph, I should have seen it earlier—that He Wenqi isn’t anything good either. Acting all reserved on the surface, pushing me away and pretending he doesn’t understand anything, turns out he’s latched onto a big tree like you…”
Bang—
Something was thrown and hit the door; He Wenqi instinctively took a step back.
“If you only came here to tell me this, you can get the hell out now!” Han Ji roared.
Fang Zhenkang opened the door and came out. Seeing He Wenqi, he glanced back inside: “I’ll remember this debt.”
He Wenqi carried the two bags of meal boxes inside and saw Han Ji leaning back in his chair, his expression dark. Upon seeing him, Han Ji’s brow suddenly relaxed: “You’re back. We can eat.”
He Wenqi placed the items on the coffee table in front of the sofa and took out the containers one by one: “Manager Fang… what happened?”
Han Ji didn’t answer. He paced over and sat down, pulled out a pair of chopsticks, broke them apart, and handed them to him.
He Wenqi didn’t take them: “Does it have anything to do with me?” He had heard his name outside the door earlier.
“It’s none of your business.” Han Ji’s hand hung in the air.
He Wenqi looked down at him: “I’m eating here?”
“Otherwise? Am I to eat all these dishes alone?”
Who told you to order so many?
Accepting things as they were, He Wenqi took the chopsticks and sat down.
“Have you mentioned it to Auntie Qiu yet?” Han Ji broke apart another pair of chopsticks.
He Wenqi’s hand picking up vegetables paused: “I haven’t had the chance yet.”
Han Ji put a mouthful of stir-fried beef into his bowl: “It’s just a matter of a phone call.”
“Okay.” He Wenqi picked out the bell peppers and celery mixed in with the beef.
Han Ji naturally extended his bowl. He Wenqi was stunned for a moment, then put the vegetables he was about to pick out back into the bowl.
This wasn’t like when they were kids; they couldn’t do this anymore.
Seeing no further movement from him, Han Ji said nothing and lowered his head to eat.
“I’ve picked out an apartment recently and plan to move in. Move in with me.”
He Wenqi was puzzled: “I’m living fine where I am, why move?”
“Your place is too small.”
“I don’t think so; it’s quite good. Besides, I’m used to living with Qiao Yuan; it’s very convenient.”
It was precisely because he was with Qiao Yuan that Han Ji was worried. If he hadn’t been covering a shift, how would he have been in and out of that kind of place and encountered that kind of situation?
Han Ji asked, pretending to be casual: “How did you and Qiao Yuan meet?”
“We met when I first came to Jing City; he helped me a lot.”
Actually, at the very beginning, it was the other way around. He Wenqi had accidentally stumbled upon a drunk Qiao Yuan being bullied by two men. He called the police and drove away the troublemakers. Qiao Yuan was grateful, and upon learning he had just arrived in Jing City, enthusiastically offered his help.
He helped He Wenqi find a hospital and a house, and even helped care for He Yanqiu while He Wenqi was job hunting.
Over time, the two became familiar. Qiao Yuan was young and worked in that kind of venue; his temperament was unstable, but he was loyal and sincere toward He Wenqi.
After He Yanqiu was hospitalized to begin treatment, He Wenqi gave up their original rental to save on expenses, intending to find something smaller and cheaper. It happened that Qiao Yuan’s roommate had moved out, so he suggested He Wenqi move in with him.
Han Ji thought for a moment: “How about this: pay the rent for your current place as usual, but move in with me. It’ll be more spacious for Qiao Yuan to live alone.”
He Wenqi opened his mouth to refuse, but saw Han Ji pulling out his phone.
“Is this the moving company? Yes, 7:00 PM tonight…”
To—tonight?! Didn’t he say he just picked out the apartment?
He Wenqi’s mind was a bit of a mess; he hadn’t even agreed yet. He shoveled rice into his mouth haphazardly, swallowing the bell peppers and celery he disliked along with it.