Although They're Mentally ill, They're Extremely Easy to Comfort - Chapter 29

“Good afternoon, President Qiao.”

Before she had even fully exited the elevator, the receptionist at Jiatai Group had already stood up to greet her enthusiastically, yet Qiao Bo’er didn’t even bother to nod in acknowledgement, turning instead to walk directly towards her office.

“President Qiao.”

“Good afternoon, President Qiao…”

“…” Employees she passed politely offered greetings, respectfully clearing a path for her.

The scene was like an empress returning to her palace to be worshipped by ten thousand people, and Ling Xi, following behind her, felt like she was watching a palace drama unfold.

But then she reconsidered. Ptooey, that analogy wasn’t appropriate.

If Qiao Bo’er was the high and mighty empress, wouldn’t that make herself, following behind, a humble maidservant?

“Tch!” Lost in her thoughts, she involuntarily sneered, a sound that caught Qiao Bo’er’s attention. “What sort of nonsensical, off-kilter things are you thinking about now?”

Ling Xi ignored her, and instead, cheekily imitated her tone and swagger, swaying her head.

Qiao Bo’er paused as they passed Chu Xi’s office, and Ling Xi curiously stretched her neck to peer inside.

The room was very spacious, with a layout that felt a bit minimalist, and the furnishings were exquisite but not overly complex. She’d initially thought it was Qiao Bo’er’s office.

Qin Yun was sitting in a chair, idly spinning a pen, but upon hearing the movement outside the door, she lazily glanced up and instantly became spirited.

She stared straight at Ling Xi’s figure, her attention drawn by the red marks on her neck. Her smile deepened with meaning as she asked, knowing the answer, “Oh, where did the big boss pick up this little friend?”

Ling Xi was tickled pink to be called a “little friend” despite her age. She offered Qin Yun a big, friendly, wide smile, looking exactly like the Peko-chan face from Fujiya.

Qiao Bo’er didn’t take the bait, countering, “Hasn’t Chu Xi brought the person back yet?”

“They should be arriving soon.”

Having received her answer, Qiao Bo’er ignored Qin Yun and continued towards the office at the end of the corridor.

Ling Xi trotted along behind her, teasing, “I thought that was your office.”

“It’s Chu Xi’s.”

“Is your company’s setup always this luxurious? The secretary’s office is bigger than the combined space of seven professors in our archaeology department.”

Ling Xi’s exaggerated gestures made her look like a little kid who had never seen the world, but Qiao Bo’er indifferently pushed open her own office door.

It was, indeed, a case of the minor being compared to the magnificent.

The office before them was not only spacious, but the floor-to-ceiling windows on two walls enveloped the entire room in light.

The full suite of office facilities clearly represented a huge investment. Looking at the genuine leather sofa, which looked as soft and springy as a sponge cake, the slacker in her almost wanted to take off her shoes and jump on it like a trampoline.

She wandered all the way to the door of the rest chamber, peeking inside curiously, and discovered it was furnished with a 1.8-meter-wide bed. Was this a rest chamber? No, it was the epitome of capitalistic decadence!

Working while lying down—it was the lazy person’s dream office.

Qiao Bo’er sat in the boss’s chair, watching Ling Xi wander back and forth in front of her, occasionally letting out strange gasps of admiration.

Seeing Ling Xi perpetually glued to the rest chamber door, Qiao Bo’er stood up and walked behind her. “You like my rest chamber very much?”

Ling Xi turned to look at her, having long thrown the notion of personal space out the window, only focused on her teasing. “Who wouldn’t like a setting this good? You really know how to live it up!”

Hearing the little lazy cat’s complaints, Qiao Bo’er instinctively wrapped her arms around Ling Xi’s waist, resting her chin naturally on her shoulder, greedily breathing in the scent unique to Ling Xi.

Her murmur was filled with the longing and beautiful hope of her unrequited love: “If only you were my girlfriend, I could hide you in here and sneak in to kiss you whenever I missed you.”

Qiao Bo’er’s warm, wet breath on her neck made Ling Xi shiver.

Her heart, in that instant, hammered.

Ling Xi immediately turned around and let out a ‘dragon’s roar’: “There you go again! Your mind is always on impractical things. I’ve told you I won’t date you. With your qualifications, finding someone a million times better than me is easy as picking up a dime, so why do you insist on pestering me!?”

Firmly shaking off the arms wrapped around her waist, the slacker had probably grown so accustomed to Qiao Bo’er’s sudden acts of intimacy that she had achieved a state of neither blushing nor racing heart.

Qiao Bo’er leaned against the wall, savoring the faint, milky scent left on her, though the feeling of holding her had been slightly uncomfortable—she was too thin.

It seemed that the mission to make the little lazy cat look well-fed must be put on the agenda immediately.

Ling Xi grumbled as she walked towards the sofa. Qiao Bo’er’s helpless smile was brimming with indulgence. “Go sit down nicely. I’ll get your things.”

Upon hearing that Qiao Bo’er was about to display her treasured collection, Ling Xi sat on the sofa, propped her hands on her knees, and instantly became obedient, her eyes practically sparkling with anticipation. “Okay, I’ll wait.”

Qiao Bo’er walked to the wall cabinet, took out an antique parchment box and a thick book, and then returned to Ling Xi. “Here, take these two to ‘play with’ first.”

Ling Xi stared at the parchment box and the book Qiao Bo’er handed her, her eyes wide. How could this woman treat a Western antique collection as a toy for someone’s amusement?

Even if she had money, she shouldn’t be squandering rare treasures!

Fearing that any rough handling might damage the treasures, Ling Xi took the artifacts with careful, cautious movements. “What do you mean ‘take to play with’?”

Qiao Bo’er sat down next to Ling Xi and pointed to the antique book, explaining its origin. “I specially asked the curator to find this book for me at the Cinciniya National Library. There are hardly any copies left in the world that are preserved this perfectly.”

When she mentioned Cinciniya, Qiao Bo’er deliberately looked into Ling Xi’s eyes, hoping to find a spark of light about the past in those beautiful pupils, even if only fleeting.

Ling Xi’s hands tightened around the book. The bright smile that had been on her face became very subtle, and she asked in surprise, “You’ve been to the Cinciniya National Library?”

“Yes.”

“The world is so small…” Ling Xi’s sigh was heavy, even carrying a hint of inexplicable melancholy.

Qiao Bo’er wanted to look into Ling Xi’s disappointment, yet didn’t dare to delve deeper, so she merely echoed the sentiment. “It’s not that the world is small, but rather it’s the result of our destiny.”

The book’s cover was embossed with a Moroccan leather pattern, featuring a three-dimensional golden peacock in full display. The edges were also stamped with gold foil. It felt thick and heavy yet delicate—clearly an early, privately commissioned, hand-bound edition.

“The RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM…” Ling Xi murmured, repeatedly running her fingers over the cover.

Normally, when she saw an artifact, she would speak endlessly about its history and value, but this time, she was unusually quiet, lost in thought.

Qiao Bo’er noticed Ling Xi’s unusual state and gently patted her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Ling Xi snapped back to the present. The look of panic only lasted a moment before she gave Qiao Bo’er an unnatural smile, trying to hide her inner turmoil.

Opening the book, she noticed the top edge of every page was still uncut. Ling Xi understood, pointing to the title and beginning to explain: “The Rubáiyát, a collection of quatrains by the famous Persian poet Omar Khayyám.

Yours is a customized edition published by Great Britain in the eighteenth century. The binding art is highly meticulous. The number NO3 means it’s one of a few globally limited editions. The page edges feature a Western European aristocratic design of manually splitting the paper—you need a page-turning knife to cut the edge to read the full content.

If I’m not mistaken, that parchment box should contain a page-turning knife, right?”

Infected by Ling Xi’s somber mood, Qiao Bo’er also became reticent. “Yes.”

Ling Xi did not continue her explanation, and the atmosphere instantly became very quiet; neither of them picked up a new topic.

Qiao Bo’er was in a state of anxiety. She had brought up Cinciniya deliberately, hoping to unearth a blank spot in Ling Xi’s memory, but she had not expected those four words to be Ling Xi’s taboo.

Taking The Rubáiyát away, Qiao Bo’er took Ling Xi’s hand and slowly laced their fingers together in front of her.

Palm to palm, Qiao Bo’er felt the coolness of Ling Xi’s fingertips, and all she wanted to do was give her all her warmth.

Lost in a trance, Ling Xi indulged in this tenderness and did not pull her hand away.

Her expression was lonely; the intense, melting affection made this proud woman humble.

Qiao Bo’er’s tone was calm: “A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, a Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread—and Thou / Beside me singing in the Wilderness—/Ah, Wilderness were Paradise enow.”

My dear, I have crossed the ocean currents and tread the deep sea waves, followed the monsoon and climbed the steep cliffs, all just to leap into your world and softly tell you—

I will take you away from the bitter plight to find the paradise that belongs only to us.

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