The Overbearing CEO Boss is my Childhood Sweetheart - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“Hey, Brother Zhang, I couldn’t find you anywhere; how did you end up here?” This time, a voice with a constricted, feigned throatiness drifted into the room. He Wenqi recognized this highly identifiable voice; it was Fan Qicheng, the owner of the Night Color club.

“Brother Fan, you’ve finally come! They…” Qiao Yuan, as if seeing a savior, was anxious and angry, wanting to vent his grievances.

Fan Qicheng, however, acted as if he didn’t see the scene in the room and didn’t let him continue. He followed up by saying: “Let’s go, let’s go, the good wine is all ready for you. You brothers come along too; let’s go drink outside. Oh my, Brother Zhang, you’ve got a nosebleed. Must be the dry weather, right? This brother will accompany you to wash your face.”

Zhang Wei, hit by that black object, was bleeding from his nose. He looked down and saw it was actually a mobile phone.

He ignored Fan Qicheng, wiped the blood under his nose with his thumb, face covered in physiological tears. Gritting his teeth, he tilted his head back and asked: “Damn it, who are you? You’re the one who f***ing hit me?”

“Hey, it’s a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding. How could anyone hit you? This phone must have accidentally slipped out of someone’s hand…” Fan Qicheng smoothed things over slickly.

“I hit you,” the deep voice said.

Da-da, da-da. The sound of leather shoes hitting the floor grew closer. He Wenqi heard the man’s heavy breathing, as if he were calming his emotions.

“What did you give him to drink?” he asked.

He Wenqi’s hands were still twisted behind his back, but the pressure on his head suddenly loosened. He looked down and saw a pair of shiny, reflective black leather shoes. The man’s feet were large, his steps steady and slow, until he stopped directly in front of him.

He Wenqi looked up along the man’s crisp suit trousers. Perhaps because of the angle, he felt the man’s stature was tall and extremely oppressive. The well-tailored black suit fitted his physique perfectly—waist was waist, legs were legs—making it hard to look away.

Further up, he couldn’t clearly see the man’s face, but he saw a three-dimensional contour and tight lines; it was a handsome face.

Zhang Wei sniffled and raised the mineral water bottle in his hand: “Want to taste it? It’s not impossible.” Relying on his numbers, he barked arrogantly: “Seize him for me! I’m going to break his nose first.”

The henchmen received the order, let go of He Wenqi, and stepped forward to surround the man.

Qiao Yuan took the opportunity to limp around to He Wenqi’s side and whispered: “Brother Qi, are you okay? Is this your friend?”

He Wenqi rubbed his aching arms and shook his head.

The two “brothers in misfortune” supported each other and watched the situation unfold quietly.

The man stood sideways to them, opened his suit jacket, and raised his hand to unbutton his shirt cuffs, rolling them up layer by layer without haste. That posture was actually somewhat elegant.

He Wenqi finally sensed something wasn’t right.

The man’s hair was combed meticulously; his tie was neat, his stance upright. From head to toe, he exuded an elite vibe. That dominant aura made him look like he was heading to a negotiation for a billion-dollar project, definitely not here for nightclub entertainment; he was completely out of place with everything here.

“What are you waiting for? Do it!” Seeing his henchmen standing dazed, Zhang Wei grew anxious.

“Not necessary, not necessary. Let’s talk things out, don’t use hands; we’re all friends.” Fan Qicheng hurried to mediate, not wanting to offend anyone. “This brother surely didn’t do it on purpose. Let’s apologize, and we’ll consider this matter over. For my sake, okay?”

“No!”

“No!”

Fan Qicheng probably wanted to change his name to “Fan Headache” right now.

“Make him apologize, and he must pay a corresponding price,” the man said.

“Bah! What the hell are you to lecture me? Today, not only am I going to break your nose, but I’m also going to make you realize the consequences of minding my business!”

The man seemed completely fearless and smiled calmly: “Be my guest!”

Standing in the corner, Qiao Yuan excitedly tugged at He Wenqi’s clothes: “Ahhh! So cool! A ‘hero saves beauty’ plot, and he’s so handsome. I love it!”

He Wenqi didn’t speak, but the hand rubbing his arm stopped.

Over there, several people had already started fighting. As soon as the moves were made, the difference in skill was clear.

The three men in black had clearly done this often, surrounding the man in the center and attacking from above, middle, and below. Even so, they gained no advantage.

The man seemed to have trained; his moves were steady and very skillful.

He Wenqi dazed for a moment, and when he snapped out of it, he saw the three men in black backing away while clutching their faces. One of Zhang Wei’s wrists was being twisted back by the man. The force must have been great; Zhang Wei was crying out “Ow, ow” and couldn’t stand straight.

“Apologize!” The man dragged Zhang Wei in front of He Wenqi.

“Hey, hey, brother, big brother, that’s enough. I’m the owner here. It was his fault for moving first, but you didn’t lose out either, so let’s call it even, okay?” Fan Qicheng knew Zhang Wei but didn’t know the man’s background. “Little Qi-ge, persuade your friend. Give me some face and let it go, okay?”

Fan Qicheng was the oldest here, yet he called everyone “Brother.”

“He is not my friend,” He Wenqi said calmly.

A flash of surprise seemed to cross the man’s eyes, but then he smiled again and said, “My name is Han Ji.”

He Wenqi pursed his lips tightly and didn’t speak again.

“Apologize! Do I have to say it again?” Han Ji’s smile faded, and he increased the pressure. Zhang Wei’s expression went out of control; he was about to kneel.

“No need,” He Wenqi suddenly turned to leave. He stopped at the door and said with his back turned, “Thanks.”

The doors of Night Color separated two worlds: inside it was steaming hot; outside it was cold wind and chilling rain.

The night rain in deep winter wasn’t heavy, but it was as fine and dense as silver needles. Falling onto his neck, it immediately triggered a bout of goosebumps.

He Wenqi shuddered, only then realizing he was still wearing only his shirt; his down jacket had been left in the dressing room.

He hesitated whether to go back and get it, but what if Han Ji was still there?

Han Ji… why would he suddenly appear here?

It wasn’t that He Wenqi hadn’t recognized Han Ji. It had been four years, and he hadn’t changed a bit. No, there were changes—He Wenqi recalled the scene just now. The thinness of his youth had faded, replaced by the broad chest and back of an adult male; he seemed to have grown even taller.

When He Wenqi was young, he always loved to compare heights with Han Ji, but he never outgrew him.

After standing for a moment, a layer of white mist covered He Wenqi’s hair. He casually wiped it back. Forget it, it was probably just a coincidence; from now on, he would act as if they had never met.

Thinking this, He Wenqi walked to the roadside to hail a taxi.

“Xiao Qi, Xiao Qi—” The person behind caught up.

He Wenqi turned his step without stopping and continued forward.

“Xiao Qi! He Wenqi—stop right there!” Han Ji’s leather shoes scraped against the ground, making a hurried sound. “Pretending not to know me? Is this fun?”

Han Ji caught up in a few steps, grabbed his arm, and forcefully stuffed the jacket into his arms, but his tone softened: “Put it on. Aren’t you afraid of catching a cold? You catch a chill and then get a fever, yet you won’t take medicine. Every time you get sick, it takes a long time to get better…”

He Wenqi’s mind wandered; images from many years ago blurred and overlapped with this scene.

Aside from a few wrinkles left on his suit jacket, Han Ji had returned to a neat appearance. He paused, seemingly pondering how to speak: “Why are you in a place like this… just now…” A puff of white mist dispersed in the night air. “Don’t come to places like this again.”

He Wenqi lowered his eyes. Raindrops clung to his long lashes, falling with a light quiver.

He looked up at Han Ji: “What place I go to, how I live, whether I get sick or not—what does it have to do with you?”

Han Ji was stunned: “Xiao Qi, did you really not recognize me?”

“Han Ji,” He Wenqi heard his own voice, as devoid of temperature as this cold night. “We aren’t close. What right do you have to manage me?”

“Just neighbors,” he continued, “and that was many years ago.”

Han Ji’s hand slipped from He Wenqi’s arm. He Wenqi took the chance to stop a passing taxi, opened the door, got in, and left quickly.

“Whoa, the rain is getting heavier.” The driver turned on the wipers.

He Wenqi glanced sideways into the rearview mirror and saw Han Ji standing still on the spot. Just as his figure was about to vanish, someone got out of a nearby black business van and held an umbrella over him.

It was nearly 3:00 AM by the time he reached home.

He Wenqi opened a can of cat food to appease the little ancestors rubbing against his legs. Usually, when he came home, he would pick them up and smooth their fur, but today he lacked that patience.

He went straight into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Hot water poured over his head, bit by bit washing away the coldness inside and out.

Only when his body and mind were thoroughly warmed did he squeeze out shampoo to wash his hair.

The shampoo had a woody fragrance rare on the market, somewhat similar to ebony—cold and dry.

This scent had a characteristic: the fragrance was rich when the temperature was high and faint when the temperature was low.

The first time He Wenqi smelled this scent was on Han Ji.

He Wenqi didn’t like rainy days because it was easy to get his shoes and socks dirty, so Han Ji would carry him home on his back. Just as he had said, back then the two were next-door neighbors.

Holding a small umbrella and leaning on Han Ji’s back, his nose would be filled with this woody scent. Sweet, astringent, and finally a hint of sweetness.

From a few years old to his teens, this woody scent had permeated his entire childhood, extending into his youth.

Even his first nocturnal emission happened with this woody scent lingering between dream and reality. When he woke up in a sudden tremor, Han Ji was lying right beside him.

…

White foam was washed into the drain by the water. He Wenqi felt a bit of unbearable heat. He turned the shower handle toward the cold water, but the abnormality in his body was not alleviated.

He Wenqi tilted his head back, closed his eyes in a sort of compromise, and reached his hand downward.

Usually busy with work and taking on several part-time jobs in his spare time, he didn’t think about these things, whether intentionally or not. But in the end, he couldn’t resist natural physiological reactions. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t relieved himself in a long time, and he had been forced to swallow those two gulps of medicine by Zhang Wei. Although he didn’t know exactly what it was, he could probably guess. The potency is just too strong for only two gulps, He Wenqi thought.

The steam in the bathroom mixed with the woody scent, swirling and rising. The water dripped. He Wenqi leaned one hand against the cold tiled wall, panting heavily. At the moment of release, Han Ji’s face flashed through his mind.

He Wenqi let out a muffled sound from his throat. Damn it!

This shower wasn’t satisfying. He Wenqi turned off the water, blew his hair dry, changed into pajamas, and curled up on the living room sofa with his laptop.

The cigarette in his hand flickered, almost burning down to his fingers. The computer screen went dark, then bright, then dark again; not a single point on the open image had moved.

He Wenqi stubbed out the cigarette.

He wasn’t addicted to smoking; he only involuntarily wanted a few puffs under high pressure and extreme anxiety, using the inhalation and exhalation to turn his gloom into smoke and disperse it.

The sound of the digital lock clicking came from the door.

He Wenqi didn’t want to deal with anyone right now; he closed his laptop and stood up to return to his room.

“Brother Qi, not asleep yet?” Qiao Yuan was sharp-eyed, his mouth faster than his legs. “Are you okay?”

On the way back, Qiao Yuan had called him to ask if he was okay, and he had said he was already home.

“Let me tell you, you left too early and didn’t see. That guy called Han—Ji, guess what? He broke Zhang Wei’s wrist. It was simply too cool! I got kicked in the stomach, but it was worth it… Hey, listen to me! Why are you leaving? Are you going to sleep?”

He Wenqi closed his bedroom door, but it couldn’t block out Qiao Yuan’s eagerness to share.

“And another thing! Han Ji asked for my number!” Qiao Yuan’s voice came muffled through the wall. “Actually, he originally wanted your number, but I didn’t dare give it! I was afraid you’d scold me for giving your number to people randomly. I didn’t expect him to turn around and ask for mine… Brother Qi? Brother Qi? Are you asleep?”

He Wenqi covered his head with the blanket, hoping that upon waking up, he would no longer hear this name, nor encounter this person ever again.