Chapter 9
The “infidelity” matter was settled.
Back home, Jian Huaiyi went upstairs to shower while Liang Xun made a phone call in the living room.
Fresh from the shower, Jian Huaiyi’s fair skin held a faint blush, his body wrapped in the bathrobe the butler had sent.
With dripping hair, he casually put on the bathrobe hood.
“Get the documents organized and send them to me. Talk later,” Liang Xun hung up the phone curtly.
Liang Xun had contacted his company so quickly.
Jian Huaiyi was surprised, “Qin Zhu?”
Liang Xun nodded, then questioned Jian Huaiyi: “How do you know him?” His sharp black eyes fixed on Jian Huaiyi.
Past experience had taught him to be cautious.
Jian Huaiyi: …
Liang Xun’s expression was serious, his eyes filled with a troubled expression, seemingly regretful.
Jian Huaiyi couldn’t help but laugh, walking forward and patting Liang Xun on the shoulder: “Your assistant. How wouldn’t I know him?”
Fresh from the shower, Jian Huaiyi had a faint floral scent, like a small daisy, its white petals facing his nose.
Liang Xun frowned subtly, his index finger pausing in his pocket. He stepped aside to create distance from Jian Huaiyi.
“I’ll go wash up.”
The frosted glass door of the bathroom showed the man’s figure vaguely. Liang Xun stood under the shower, hot water flowing from his hair down his face.
Water droplets gathered on his taut jaw before falling to the ground.
His face was stern. He wiped the mist from the mirror, his forearm resting on the sink, staring at his reflection.
This was an adult’s body, noticeably stronger than his thinner teenage form.
Three transparent words appeared on the mirror: Jian Huaiyi.
Liang Xun’s lips pursed slightly, his fingertip resting on the “Jian,” lost in thought.
Why was he with Jian Huaiyi?
In his limited memories, he and Jian Huaiyi were strangers who barely interacted, at most acknowledging each other’s existence.
What had happened to change their relationship from mutually antagonistic strangers to lovers who could be intimate?
He let out a heavy breath, fragmented images flashing through his mind. He tried to grasp and piece them together, but the memories slipped away.
As if intentionally preventing him from remembering.
Liang Xun exhaled, lifting his wet black hair from his forehead, his handsome eyebrows slightly furrowed.
He needed time to investigate his past memories, but the immediate reality was that his boyfriend – Jian Huaiyi – had cheated.
With a racer.
He knew nothing about his looks, age, or family background, only that he was a racer.
Liang Xun pinched his temples.
He undoubtedly didn’t like Jian Huaiyi now, but this incident had left a knot in his heart. Like a peanut shell stuck in his throat – not life-threatening but persistently irritating, an unignorable foreign body.
Since Jian Huaiyi didn’t value their relationship either, why not break up?
Given Jian Huaiyi’s personality, it shouldn’t be difficult.
Liang Xun couldn’t guess how his older self interacted with Jian Huaiyi, but it probably wasn’t like other couples, clinging to each other, nor like romantic movie protagonists.
It was probably like a glass of bland water – tasteless, but they had grown accustomed to each other’s presence. So, even without love, they didn’t break up.
A knock interrupted Liang Xun’s thoughts.
“Liang Xun, there are no clothes for you here. I’ve asked the butler to bring new ones; they’re by the door.”
Jian Huaiyi’s figure gradually disappeared from the frosted glass door.
Liang Xun opened the door. A neatly organized set of clothes was in a wooden basket on the floor.
All dark-colored, his usual style.
Forget it.
He couldn’t think of the older Jian Huaiyi using his eighteen-year-old self’s mindset.
Liang Xun’s expression softened. After a pause, he bent down, picked up the clothes, and went to the bathroom to change.
The bedroom was brightly lit. Jian Huaiyi was leaning against the headboard reading. Hearing footsteps, he looked up at Liang Xun as he entered.
The man had just showered; the bathroom’s dampness still clung to him. His chest muscles strained against his shirt, creating a slight curve.
Jian Huaiyi glanced at him, then lowered his head to continue reading.
“The hairdryer is in the living room.”
Liang Xun stopped, turned to leave, and returned a few minutes later.
Jian Huaiyi closed his book in confusion: “Anything else?”
Liang Xun looked at Jian Huaiyi’s face, trying to discern his thoughts.
“Nothing.”
“No, something.”
They spoke simultaneously. Jian Huaiyi, in his pig slippers, rushed to the living room.
He found a box under the coffee table, opening it to reveal various medicine boxes.
Liang Xun had just recovered from a serious illness, and his brain was still affected. The doctor had prescribed sedatives, twice a day, to help with memory recovery.
This was important; Jian Huaiyi had almost forgotten.
He beckoned Liang Xun, who walked forward, hands in his pockets.
“These are the medicines Dr. Song prescribed, twice a day. I’m supposed to make sure you take them,” Jian Huaiyi took out two medicine boxes, addressing Liang Xun.
As he spoke, he poured out two pills and offered them to Liang Xun.
The deep blue pills looked extremely bitter.
Liang Xun was hesitant to take them.
Jian Huaiyi carefully observed him, his clear eyes unwavering.
“Take them, you’ll recover faster,” Jian Huaiyi stifled a laugh, mercifully coaxing him.
He suddenly remembered that his good brother, though a decisive CEO on the outside, was a childish person who disliked taking medicine.
Jian Huaiyi recalled a time in college when Liang Xun had a fever and insisted on climbing a mountain despite his near 40-degree temperature. If he hadn’t found him unconscious and feverish in the tent that night, Liang Xun might have died.
Liang Xun’s constitution was truly remarkable; despite his hazy consciousness from the fever, he managed to walk down the mountain without assistance.
On the near-zero-degree mountain, the two, in their gray windbreakers, walked down the mountain against the flow of people.
There was a small clinic halfway down the mountain. They went in to see a doctor, who prescribed fever medicine.
Opening the package revealed colorful pills.
Jian Huaiyi still vividly remembered the scene: Liang Xun looked at the pills Jian Huaiyi had poured into his hand, his brows furrowed in a tight knot, even after taking them from Jian Huaiyi’s hand, he hesitated to put them in his mouth.
As if the pills were poisoned.
An unbelievable guess came to mind, Jian Huaiyi exclaimed: “Are you afraid of taking medicine?”
Liang Xun’s expression faltered, a hint of annoyance at being discovered.
He never would have guessed that Liang Xun, who could eat even bad food, was afraid of taking medicine.
Finally, Jian Huaiyi jokingly said: “Your brain is fried, next time someone else can grab the top spot.”
Liang Xun immediately put the pills in his mouth and swallowed them with water without hesitation.
His memory returned. Jian Huaiyi nudged Liang Xun and changed his approach, teasing: “If your brain isn’t cured, Mr. Liang’s massive empire will be mine.”
Liang Xun’s lips pursed before he tilted his head and swallowed all the pills.
“That’s right, get some rest.”
After resolving the important matter of Liang Xun’s medicine, Jian Huaiyi went upstairs to his bedroom, feeling relieved.
It was ten o’clock at night; it was time to sleep.
He turned off the main light and was about to turn on the nightlight when someone came to the door.
Liang Xun’s jaw was tight, his dark eyes flashing with a hint of darkness. He walked from downstairs, conflicted.
He carried a pillow from the living room. While Jian Huaiyi was stunned, he walked to the bed expressionlessly.
He tossed the pillow beside Jian Huaiyi, who held his breath as Liang Xun lay down beside him.
The man only occupied a small part of the bed, his long legs hanging off the side, in a strangely awkward sleeping position.