🌸 chapter 15: Carefully Taken Care Of
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The dull ache of a hangover had been reignited by the anger from that “Li the Second Young Master” incident, leaving only a smouldering irritation behind. But his stomach felt scraped raw, empty and faintly sour, as if sandpaper had been dragged across it.
He kept his eyes closed, brows tightly furrowed, radiating a very clear “don’t mess with me” aura.
The car stopped. Engine off.
Cheng Shubai unbuckled his seatbelt and turned slightly to look at him.
Under the dim yellow garage lights, his sharply defined profile was calm. Behind his glasses, his gaze was steady, almost observant.
Qi Ye didn’t move, still pretending to be asleep. But the tightly pressed lips and the slight curl of his body betrayed his discomfort.
Cheng Shubai said nothing. He simply got out of the car.
He walked around to Qi Ye’s side and opened the door.
The cold, damp air of the garage rushed in.
“We’re here,” he said.
Qi Ye let out an annoyed hum without opening his eyes. He slowly shifted, movements sluggish and heavy, like he was sick or simply refusing to cooperate with the world.
One foot stepped out of the car, but his body swayed slightly, as if the hangover dizziness hadn’t fully faded.
Cheng Shubai didn’t reach out to support him. Instead, he subtly shifted his stance, placing his own body between Qi Ye and a nearby concrete pillar, shielding him from it without a word.
A silent barrier of protection.
Qi Ye steadied himself, shot him a sideways glance, and shuffled toward the elevator.
The elevator rose smoothly. Only the soft mechanical hum filled the enclosed space.
Qi Ye leaned against the cold wall, head tilted back, eyes closed. His face looked pale under the white light.
Cheng Shubai stood slightly in front of him, gaze fixed on the changing floor numbers. His expression remained unreadable behind the reflection on his lenses.
“Ding.”
Top floor.
The doors slid open.
Warm air carrying a faint cedar scent rushed out, completely different from the cold basement air.
Qi Ye walked out first, clearly familiar with the place. He kicked off his shoes carelessly at the entrance and headed barefoot toward the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Cheng Shubai followed a step behind, picked up the shoes Qi Ye had kicked off, and placed them neatly by the shoe cabinet.
He changed into soft indoor slippers, then walked toward the kitchen.
The apartment was spacious and minimalist, the kind of clean, expensive space that rarely felt “lived in.” The kitchen was all steel and cool tones, clearly seldom used.
Cheng Shubai removed his suit jacket and hung it over a chair, then rolled up his shirt sleeves.
He opened the large built-in fridge.
Cold air spilled out. Inside, everything was arranged with surgical precision.
His eyes passed over neatly packaged organic vegetables and premium cuts of meat, before landing on a dark insulated pot labelled “Old Zhang’s”.
He took it out. Still warm.
When he opened it, the rich, steaming aroma of seafood and rice filled the kitchen instantly, pushing away the cold sterility.
The congee he had ordered through Zhou Wen.
He didn’t rush. First, he rinsed a porcelain bowl with hot water. Then he carefully ladled the congee in.
The porridge was thick but smooth, rice grains almost fully dissolved. Inside were fish slices, squid strips, shrimp, fried peanuts, crispy dough sticks, and scallions. Generous, overflowing with ingredients.
He carried the bowl to the sofa.
Qi Ye was still sprawled there, eyes closed, but his nose had clearly picked up the smell. His throat moved subtly.
Cheng Shubai placed the bowl on the coffee table.
Qi Ye lifted his eyelids lazily, glanced at it, then at Cheng Shubai.
“No appetite,” he muttered.
Cheng Shubai ignored him.
He walked to the bar area, opened a small drawer beneath the wine cabinet, and took out a small transparent pill box.
Then he returned and sat beside Qi Ye.
The sofa dipped slightly.
He opened the box. Inside were stomach medicine and hangover tablets.
He poured a glass of warm water and handed both to Qi Ye.
“Take them first,” he said calmly.
Qi Ye frowned but eventually snatched them and swallowed everything in one go, rough and impatient, nearly choking.
Cheng Shubai then picked up the spoon resting on the bowl.
Instead of handing it over, he scooped a spoonful himself and brought it to Qi Ye’s lips.
Qi Ye froze.
“…What are you doing?” he stared at him.
Cheng Shubai didn’t answer. The spoon remained steady in front of him, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.
After a beat of resistance, Qi Ye gave in to hunger and the unbearable aroma.
He leaned forward and bit the spoon, eating quickly, almost aggressively. The hot congee burned his tongue.
“Too hot!” he hissed immediately, glaring.
Cheng Shubai calmly scooped another spoonful, lightly scraping it against the bowl to cool it before offering it again.
This time, slower.
Qi Ye ate it again.
And again.
Spoon by spoon, Cheng Shubai continued feeding him. Not overly gentle, but precise. Each spoonful was slightly cooled first, or adjusted to avoid the hottest parts.
At some point, Qi Ye stopped resisting so much.
“More peanuts,” he mumbled.
“That crispy dough bit.”
“The bigger fish slice.”
Cheng Shubai complied without comment.
Soon, the bowl was empty.
Qi Ye leaned back into the sofa, finally full, licking a bit of congee from his lips, looking like a satiated cat too lazy to move.
Cheng Shubai wiped his mouth with a tissue.
A brief touch of fingers through paper.
Qi Ye stiffened slightly, but didn’t avoid it.
Cheng Shubai threw the tissue away and asked, “Full?”
“Mm.”
Qi Ye’s eyes were already heavy.
He curled up slightly on the sofa, sinking into the warmth, exhaustion and comfort overtaking him.
Then—
The doorbell camera rang.
Qi Ye groaned without opening his eyes. “Who is it…”
Cheng Shubai walked to the entrance screen.
On it stood two people in white coats, carrying medical kits, followed by security staff.
The leading man spoke formally:
“Mr Cheng, we’re from the Yuanyu Group Medical Center. We received an urgent notice from Ms Zhou Wen. She said someone in your home has suddenly fallen seriously ill and requires immediate treatment. Please open the door.”
Cheng Shubai: “……”
His fingers paused on the intercom.
Behind him, Qi Ye had already turned over on the sofa, face buried in the cushion, making a displeased sound at being disturbed.
Cheng Shubai looked at the fully prepared medical team outside.
Then at the so-called “seriously ill patient” sleeping peacefully on his sofa.
He fell silent for a full minute.
I will be posting two chapters every Sunday and Wednesday.
(My translation is far from perfect, so if you see any mistakes please let me know in the comments)
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