I Heard You Have a Crush On Me? What a Coincidence! - Chapter 5

Song Que washed his face.

He watched the water flow smoothly down the edge of the sink, feeling a sudden sense of relief. As long as there was no resentment, it was fine.

Leaving the restroom, he encountered a waiter and reminded him to replenish the drinks and food promptly.

Upon entering the private room, Song Que noticed that the bottle of Petrus had returned to the table. Qin Wangye was sitting on a separate sofa, not joining Shao Fuguang and the others in their games.

Shao Fuguang, seemingly having been lectured, looked indignant. “Stingy,” he muttered.

Song Que took a moment to process this, then understood the implication.

“Do you like it?” Song Que asked Qin Wangye softly. “I have another bottle.”

“One bottle is enough,” Qin Wangye replied.

Song Que understood his meaning; he had accepted the gift.

Someone had turned on the sound system and selected a slow, soothing English song. They hummed along with the melody, creating a pleasant atmosphere that was not too loud. Song Que sat down directly across from Qin Wangye.

“Are you,” Qin Wangye began, “all right now?”

The knuckles of Song Que’s hand turned slightly white as he poured tea. He could not help but glance at Qin Wangye.

Qin Wangye lowered his voice. “I am responsible for what happened. If you feel unwell, tell me. I will take you to the hospital.”

“It is fine,” Song Que replied.

“Have you not noticed it yourself?” Qin Wangye said. “You sound congested.”

Perhaps the medication was wearing off, but to Song Que, these were minor issues. He shook his head. Qin Wangye frowned instinctively.

“Brother Ye, come play!” someone shouted.

“Let us go together,” Song Que suggested.

By the time the gathering ended, it was past midnight. The manager stepped forward to ask Qin Wangye if he wanted to store the bottle of Petrus, but Qin Wangye declined. He instructed his driver to wrap it up and place it in the backseat.

Song Que listened quietly from the side, his right thumb and index finger rubbing together slightly.

They emerged from the bar into a pitch-black night with only a few scattered stars. Fortunately, everyone had drivers or companions, so getting home was not an issue. The late autumn air was chilly, and their breath turned into white mist.

Qin Wangye turned to Song Que. “Are you going home?”

“Yes.”

“Right. There will be news regarding the project development in the next two days. You need to hurry with the proposal.”

“I will,” Song Que promised.

There seemed to be nothing left to say. Qin Wangye’s features looked especially deep in the night. The timing was not right for many things, so Qin Wangye restrained himself and offered a simple farewell. “See you again.”

Song Que answered seriously, “Alright, see you again.”

On the way back, Song Que was in high spirits. A few strands of fresh green seemed to sprout from his usual dull silence. Even the driver, who had been with him for two years, found it rare and stole several glances at him through the rearview mirror.

After arriving home, Song Que took the time to cook a bowl of noodles for himself. He fried an egg, added boiling water, and tossed in the noodles with some seasoning and green vegetables. He did not like ginger or garlic, so he kept it simple.

Technically, it was nothing extraordinary. Zhuiyuan had strong momentum lately, and Qin Wangye was a businessman who chose to continue collaborating after weighing the pros and cons. It was logical.

Yet, Song Que was happy.

Qin Wangye would never know how long Song Que had fought for the opportunity to sit across from him and discuss business. Once, he could only watch Qin Wangye from behind a wire fence while the man stood in the spotlight. Now that he could sit at the table with dignity, his state of mind was naturally different.

However, this did not stop the consequences of his reckless behavior. Specifically, drinking cold alcohol while still feverish caught up to him. The next morning, Song Que opened his eyes to a world of spinning vertigo. He forced himself to sit up but could not stop himself from falling back down.

When his driver arrived, Song Que managed to pull himself together and had the man take him to the hospital.

It was a familiar environment with a familiar doctor. Seeing Song Que’s pale face, Pei Cheng desperately wanted to say, “Give me a break!”

Pei Cheng had worked at this private hospital for three years. Everything had been fine until he met such a disobedient patient as Song Que. Pei Cheng took a deep breath, not even bothering to lecture him, and immediately wrote out the forms for blood tests.

The two had evolved from a doctor-patient relationship into a gentlemanly friendship. They did not gather often because Pei Cheng was busy and Song Que was even busier. However, during holidays or birthdays, they would exchange greetings. In Song Que’s sparse social circle, this barely qualified as being friends.

Predictably, Song Que’s condition was poor, and Pei Cheng kept him for an intravenous drip.

“Can you ever finish earning all that money?” Pei Cheng, wearing his white coat, stood by the bed and gave his usual lecture. He was considered a handsome figure at the hospital, usually poised and elegant, but he always felt older when dealing with Song Que. “Take my advice. Health is the most important thing.”

As expected, Song Que gave a casual response.

He lay on the hospital bed, his right hand pressed against his throbbing temples. The veins on the back of his hand extended to his wrist. The exhaustion in his eyes softened the coldness in his bones. His eyes were rimmed with red due to the high fever, showing little emotion as he looked down. Dressed in loose hospital pajamas, he looked exceptionally thin. As he moved, his collar slipped down, revealing his hollowed collarbones.

Pei Cheng caught a glimpse by chance and opened his mouth to speak, but then forgot what he was going to say.

Song Que suddenly looked up, a hint of sharpness in his gaze. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.” Pei Cheng calmly closed the medical chart. “We will observe you for a day. Call the nurse if you need anything.”

The ward door closed, and Song Que fell into a muddled sleep. His constitution was poor, so even with two hours of intravenous fluids, his fever did not truly break until the evening. When he opened his eyes, the sunset was quiet. Song Que tried to move his fingertips but had no strength.

He only ate half the bowl of nutritional porridge the nurse brought. Pei Cheng came by for rounds and felt that although Song Que was weak, he was not despondent. At the very least, his eyes could focus today.

Song Que stayed in the hospital. At dawn, his assistant Zhao Guangyuan sent a message saying that the Qin Group had finalized the terms of the collaboration. The requirements were clearly stated, and some areas indeed needed adjustment. Since Pei Cheng would not let him leave the hospital anyway, Song Que simply told Zhao Guangyuan to bring his computer from the office.

He did not trust anyone else with this; he had to do it himself. Subconsciously, Song Que also wanted to show a bit of his talent to Qin Wangye. Collaborating with him would not be a loss.

The intravenous fluids made the back of his hand ache slightly. Song Que paused for a moment before typing another line. He knew every detail of the project. Even if changes were required, it was familiar territory for him.

Zhao Guangyuan tried to intervene several times, but Song Que refused. The assistant watched his boss stare at the computer screen with a serious expression and felt that his own job was far too easy.

Song Que stayed in the hospital for three days. By the time Pei Cheng agreed to discharge him, the proposal was finished. It was incredibly smooth.

After Zhao Guangyuan sent the message, the Qin Group immediately set a time for a meeting. It was to be held at the Qin Group building. That morning, Song Que took the elevator to the twenty-first floor. He was immediately met by a bright, elite female assistant. “President Song, President Qin is stuck in traffic. Please wait in the lounge for ten minutes.”

Song Que nodded. “Tell him to take his time. That is no problem.”

The depth of the Qin Group’s corporate culture was evident in every detail. Even Zhao Guangyuan could feel it. Compared to the hurried pace of some people at Zhuiyuan, the people working here walked with composure and an air of striking confidence.