Chapter 62: Don’t Dirty the Car
“Th… thank you.”
Jian An took the glass of plain water and tilted his head back, taking several large gulps before he managed to force the food stuck in his throat down. When he put the glass down, he still hadn’t completely recovered his breath.
In the next second, a sudden churn erupted in his stomach. The familiar, dull ache now pierced sharply and intensely like a needle, followed by a violent wave of nausea that shot straight to his head. He wanted to dry heave, but he forcefully suppressed the discomfort.
His face instantly turned as pale as paper, and a fine, cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He looked to be in extreme agony.
It was the first time Xiao Wang had ever seen someone eat a meal until they looked like this. Feeling somewhat in disbelief, he turned his head away out of pity.
He then sneaked a glance at his boss across the table, who was still observing Jian An eating, completely oblivious that something was wrong with the youth. However, Xiao Wang didn’t dare to speak up and warn him.
Finally, only a plate containing a medium-well steak remained on the table. The hand Jian An used to hold the fork trembled. He knew very well that he couldn’t stomach another bite.
His stomach hurt terribly. He was half-slumped over the table, one hand forcefully clutching his abdomen underneath. He parted his lips slightly, finally biting off a piece of the steak.
Several times, he almost threw up, only managing to breathe a sigh of relief after chewing it to a pulp and swallowing it down. Then, he continued eating, as if doing so would alleviate the agony in his stomach.
But even doing this didn’t seem to help; instead, the cramping pain only grew more violent.
It hurt so much he could barely sit up straight. His entire body felt as if it were on fire, agonizing to the point of death.
Ji Songting watched him coldly, his expression apathetic, yet a thick sense of gloom and irritation welled up within him. He stared intently, wishing he could see right through the man to figure out if he was faking it.
He truly couldn’t understand. It was just a simple meal—why was Jian An acting as if he were eating his way to the grave? Was Western food really that terrible?
Ji Songting uncrossed his legs and sat up straight. His gaze undisguisedly revealed his displeasure. Looking levelly at the youth opposite him, he said with mocking irony:
“Enough. If you can’t eat it, then don’t. A Western meal actually gives you, Jian An, the feeling of eating your last meal before execution?”
Jian An’s pain-muddled brain couldn’t spare the energy to process the sarcastic remark. His throat bobbed with difficulty as he swallowed the food, and he asked brokenly, “Now… can you… take me to see my mom?”
His voice was entirely devoid of its previous strength, sounding incredibly weak, as if he could stop breathing at any moment.
Ji Songting was slightly taken aback. His eyes unconsciously lingered on that deathly pale yet determined face. His gaze grew complex, and his heart stirred slightly.
Under Jian An’s anxious gaze, fearful that he would break his promise, the man stood up, unhurriedly put on his suit jacket, and turned to stride toward the door. As he walked, he threw out an order:
“Xiao Wang, bring him.”
“Yes, President Ji!”
Xiao Wang hurriedly responded, not daring to delay. He helped the person in the dining chair up, only to be shocked to discover how effortlessly his hand wrapped around the youth’s arm.
He was actually this skinny?!
Was… was this arm even normal?!
Moreover, with every step, Jian An swayed as if he would collapse at any second. Xiao Wang frowned. Taking advantage of the moment Ji Songting was paying the bill, he couldn’t help but ask quietly:
“Mr. Jian, are you… alright? I feel like your complexion looks really off. Should I tell President Ji?”
Half of Jian An’s body weight was supported by the driver, but his hollow, lifeless eyes didn’t dare to close for even a second. Staring blankly ahead, he shook his head and said:
“I’m fine… no need. What’s the use of telling him… let’s hurry up and go… my mom is still waiting for me.”
At some point, the road became bumpy, dipping up and down, and the car’s speed increased.
Jian An, whose stomach was already in agony, felt dizzy and lightheaded from the jolting. It felt as if a heavy weight was pressing down on his chest, making breathing difficult. Waves of discomfort and nausea washed over him.
Combined with all the food he had just eaten, he repeatedly felt the urge to throw up. But terrified of dirtying the car, he stubbornly knitted his brows, his lips dry and white from dehydration.
He gripped the car handle beside him tightly, his body trembling continuously, like a freezing tree trunk shivering in this cold, snowy weather.
He wanted to cry so badly, but no tears would fall. He could only bite down hard on his teeth to endure the pain, refusing to let himself make a sound, and absolutely forbidding himself from passing out.
When Xiao Wang inadvertently glanced at the rearview mirror, he spotted that ghost-like, pale face. It looked even worse than when they left the restaurant. Startled, he asked:
“Mr. Jian? What’s wrong? Are you carsick?”
Hearing this, Ji Songting, who had been resting with his eyes closed, suddenly opened his eyes and looked at the person beside him. His heart inexplicably skipped a beat, shocked by the youth’s snow-white complexion.
However, he maintained his cold and indifferent expression, though his gaze carried a few hints of concern as he asked:
“What’s wrong with you?”
Jian An had no energy left to answer. He simply used the last sliver of his willpower to shake his head. His entire body felt weightless, as if suspended in a void.
Seeing him look so haggard he seemed on the brink of death, Ji Songting abruptly placed a hand on his shoulder. Frowning his handsome brows, he couldn’t completely hide the doubt in his tone:
“You look like something’s wrong.”
Xiao Wang felt somewhat exasperated by his boss’s denseness. He wanted to show concern but didn’t even know how to do it. Why couldn’t he be a bit more proactive?!
Complaining silently, Xiao Wang quickly cracked the window to let some air in, pulled a bottle of water and a plastic bag from under his seat, and handed them back, explaining:
“President Ji, give this to Mr. Jian. From the looks of it, he’s probably carsick and needs to throw up.”
“What? Carsick?”
Ji Songting took the items. Looking at the things in his hand, he half-skeptically shoved them at the youth, urging him:
“If you need to throw up, do it quickly. Don’t dirty the car.”
This person actually got carsick? Today, he had discovered yet another incredibly fragile weakness of Jian An’s.
Hearing the words “throw up” and “carsick” only made the churning in his stomach worse. A violent, reckless wave of nausea surged up his throat.
Jian An swiftly grabbed the black bag on his lap, opened it, and vomited up the chaotic mess of food that had cost over a thousand dollars, throwing up until his stomach was completely empty.
He threw up so violently that he didn’t stop until blood-flecked foam bubbled in his throat, tears streaming down his face in the process.
Ji Songting imperceptibly wrinkled his nose. An abrupt urge to wipe away the tears at the corner of the youth’s eyes welled up inside him, but he ultimately restrained himself.
He simply unscrewed the cap of the mineral water and handed it over:
“Drink some water.”
Leaning against the car window, Jian An gasped for breath for a long time before he finally felt a little better. Wiping the residue from his mouth with a tissue, he instinctively took the mineral water the man offered and rinsed his mouth.
His voice was hoarse as he asked, “Exactly… how much longer until we get there? You aren’t… playing a trick on me, are you?”
Hearing this, Ji Songting’s hand holding the bottle cap paused slightly before tightening. His tone was laced with coldness and contempt: “Do I need to? What a waste of time.”
“A waste of time… then why do this…”
Jian An’s voice grew softer and softer, until it was practically inaudible. He simply had no strength left to continue speaking.
His head felt incredibly heavy and painful, and his body was freezing cold, as if he had been locked in an ice cellar overnight.
He tried hard to keep his eyes open, but his eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Exhausted, he leaned against the car window, drifting into a drowsy slumber.
“Do what? What do you mean?”
Ji Songting couldn’t help but ask, but receiving no response for a long time, he felt a surge of irritation.
When he turned his head to look, the person had already fallen into a deep sleep. He looked utterly exhausted; even his arms hung limply. Because of his awkward posture, his head slid down the glass several times.
“Hey? Jian An?”
In an unprecedented move, Ji Songting called out his name. His tone wasn’t as cold and distant as before, softening just a fraction.
The other party still didn’t respond. Instead, his lips quivered. Wrapping his arms tightly around himself and shrinking his shoulders, he shivered:
“So cold… cold…”
Cold?
The heater in the car was clearly on, so why was he still cold?
Ji Songting looked beside him in confusion. The person truly was shivering from the cold; a faint, almost invisible layer of frost had even formed on his tear-stained eyelashes, looking inexplicably pitiful.
After hesitating for a moment, he took off his suit jacket, quietly scooted closer, and gently supported Jian An’s swaying head, resting it against his own shoulder. It felt perfectly natural to drape the suit jacket over the youth’s body.
He didn’t understand why he was doing this—whether it was out of pure instinct, or simply because he didn’t want to see this person freeze to death.
Perhaps the latter was the real reason.
Whether it was because of the warmth from the suit or something else, Jian An did stop complaining about the cold, and his breathing gradually leveled out.
The faint scent of shampoo radiating from him filled Ji Songting’s nose, carrying a magical power that soothed anxiety and restlessness.
Ji Songting suddenly felt that this scent was inexplicably familiar, yet upon closer inspection, it felt foreign again.
He couldn’t remember where he had smelled it before.
Slightly flustered, he turned his head toward the window, wanting to erase those unprovoked feelings bubbling up in his heart. But no matter how hard he tried, they only grew more intense.
This sudden sensation felt like a soft feather brushing across his heart, causing an insatiable itch.
His normally calm and steady heart seemed to beat a few seconds faster than usual, and he felt a bit panicked. What was wrong with him today?
After a few seconds, Ji Songting couldn’t resist turning his head back. He lowered his gaze, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, and silently stared at that gentle and delicate side profile without blinking.
Then, he slowly raised his hand. As if guided by ghosts and gods, he moved it inch by inch toward the youth’s cheek. His cold, temperature-less knuckles lightly brushed against the tip of the person’s nose.
Actually, when this person wasn’t arguing or confronting him, when he was just quiet, he really did look quite well-behaved.
In his daze, Jian An seemed to see a shadowy figure hovering in front of him. He tried desperately to open his eyes but couldn’t muster any strength. His brows furrowed slightly, his long eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings.
Seeing this, Ji Songting’s face showed alarm. He hastily withdrew his hand. His eyes lost their luster, and a fleeting, unspeakable emotion flashed rapidly through the depths of his pupils.
Just what was he looking at…
Translator’s Note: Hi again! My heart is breaking for Jian An in this chapter. Ji Songting actually lent him his shoulder and coat, which is a rare moment of tenderness, but he immediately ruins it with his cold words. For some context, the term Ji Songting uses, “duantou fan” (断头饭), literally translates to “beheading meal” or the last meal given to a prisoner before their execution. It shows just how grim Jian An looked while eating. See you in the next chapter!
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