Don't You like Little Dogs? Now that I'm Taking Liberties, You're Suddenly Reluctant? - Chapter 30

After returning to the apartment the next day, life seemed to return to its usual track. However, some things had definitely changed.

Jiang Si appeared to have abandoned his deliberate distance, returning to the state where he allowed Pei Ye to follow him closely. He even began giving Pei Ye more frequent instructions. Some were related to missions, while others were almost trivial, such as specifying a certain brand of coffee beans or asking Pei Ye to retrieve a document that was not urgent.

This sense of being needed provided Pei Ye with a morbid satisfaction. He functioned like a precision instrument, executing every command meticulously and striving to make himself useful.

At the same time, Jiang Si’s control became more pervasive. He would suddenly check the progress of Pei Ye’s old injuries, pressing his cold fingers against the stitched wounds and the sprained ankle with an evaluative gaze. He questioned Pei Ye about his diet and sleep, his tone as flat as if he were inquiring about the maintenance status of a weapon. This control caused Pei Ye to feel suffocated at times, yet it also provided him with a twisted sense of security.

A few days later, Jiang Si needed to meet an overseas arms broker with a complex background. The meeting was set at an extremely private, high end club. The other party had clearly heard of the reputation of Night Crow. He showed a keen interest in Pei Ye, who stood behind Jiang Si with a cold gaze. The broker tested him with words that carried a subtle hint of recruitment.

“Mr. Jiang truly has talented people under him. This young man looks extraordinary,” the broker said with a smile, his gaze lingering on Pei Ye.

Jiang Si held his wine glass with a faint, indifferent smile on his lips, but he did not respond. Pei Ye stood expressionless behind Jiang Si like a professional backdrop. However, his muscles were slightly tense as he felt an instinctive disgust and wariness toward that calculating gaze.

During a break in the conversation, the broker seemed to intentionally let a document drop near Pei Ye’s feet.

“Oh, look at me,” the broker laughed. He made no move to pick it up himself, instead directing his gaze significantly toward Pei Ye.

Pei Ye’s brow furrowed slightly, but he did not move. His duty was to protect Jiang Si, not to pick up items for others.

Jiang Si swirled the wine in his glass without even raising his eyelids. He spoke calmly. “Pei Ye.”

Pei Ye immediately bowed slightly. “Master.”

“Pick that up for Mr. Liu.”

Without any hesitation, Pei Ye immediately obeyed. He leaned over, picked up the document, and handed it back to Mr. Liu. His movements were crisp and efficient. He showed no signs of humiliation or resentment, as if he were simply performing a mundane task.

Mr. Liu took the document with his smile unchanged, but a flash of surprise and deeper caution crossed his eyes. He had originally wanted to test the independence of this blade. He had not expected that the subject’s obedience to Jiang Si would be so absolute.

Only then did Jiang Si slowly raise his eyes to look at Mr. Liu. His tone was flat and steady. “My person is rather dull and only knows how to follow orders. Please do not take offense, Mr. Liu.”

This sentence was spoken lightly, yet it acted like an invisible barrier. It completely categorized Pei Ye as his own possession, allowing no room for others to covet or test him.

Pei Ye kept his eyes downcast as he stood behind Jiang Si, but his heart throbbed violently at the phrase “my person.” A complex surge of emotions, mixing a strange sense of belonging with twisted satisfaction, churned in his chest.

My person. Master’s person.

On the drive back, the atmosphere was somewhat silent. Pei Ye drove the car and could see the profile of Jiang Si resting with his eyes closed through the rearview mirror. He hesitated for a long time before speaking in a low voice. “Master, thank you for what happened today.”

Jiang Si did not open his eyes. He merely gave a faint hum of acknowledgment as if it were a trivial matter. However, Pei Ye knew it was a form of protection. Even though the method remained coldly objectifying, it clearly defined where he belonged.

A few days later, the stitches were removed from the wound on Pei Ye’s side. It left a fresh pink scar alongside his many older injuries. The sprain in his ankle had also largely healed.

That evening, Jiang Si was handling official business in the study while Pei Ye stood guard quietly as usual. Jiang Si suddenly put down his documents and rubbed his brow, looking somewhat tired. He looked at Pei Ye and commanded, “Go to the wine cellar and bring up that bottle of twenty five year old Macallan.”

“Yes,” Pei Ye replied before turning to leave.

The wine cellar was on the ground floor of the apartment and required a private elevator. Pei Ye quickly found the specified whiskey and returned to the study with it. When he pushed open the door, Jiang Si was standing by the floor to ceiling window talking on the phone. His back was straight and cold.

“The plan remains unchanged. Clean it up as quickly as possible,” Jiang Si said with an unquestionable sharpness.

Hearing the door open, he hung up the phone and turned around. Pei Ye stepped forward with the wine, preparing to open the decanter. Just then, Jiang Si’s gaze fell on the hand Pei Ye used to hold the bottle. He suddenly asked, “What happened to your hand?”

Pei Ye paused and looked down at his own hand. On the back of his right hand was a thin scratch. It was no longer bleeding, but it was clearly new. He had likely been scratched by the edge of a wooden shelf while retrieving the wine. It was so minor that he had not even noticed it himself.

“It is nothing. I just scratched it accidentally,” Pei Ye said, instinctively trying to pull his hand back.

Jiang Si reached out toward him. “Come here.”

Pei Ye hesitated for a moment but still stepped forward and offered his hand. Jiang Si gripped his wrist with a force that allowed no refusal. His fingertips were slightly cool as he carefully examined the insignificant scratch.

The light in the study was soft, and it was quiet enough to hear each other’s breathing. Jiang Si kept his head lowered, the lines of his profile appearing somewhat blurred in the light. The pad of his thumb unconsciously and extremely gently brushed against the edge of the red mark.

It was only a momentary, almost instinctive gesture. Yet, it caused Pei Ye’s entire body to go rigid. His blood seemed to rush toward that tiny, touched wound, bringing a ridiculous and intense sensation of heat.

Jiang Si also seemed to realize this overly subtle, intimate movement. He paused, then released the hand. His expression returned to its usual indifference as if the moment had been an illusion.

“Be more careful next time,” he said plainly. His tone revealed no emotion as he turned toward the wine cabinet and picked up the decanter himself.

Pei Ye stood frozen in place. The fleeting, cool touch and that final gentle brush still lingered on his wrist. His heart hammered frantically in his chest. The sound was so loud that he was almost afraid Jiang Si would hear it.

That insignificant touch had caused him to lose his composure more than any previous severe punishment or cold declaration. He looked at Jiang Si’s back in a daze as an absurd and frantic thought uncontrollably entered his mind.

Does Master also care about me, even just a little bit?