The Overbearing CEO Boss is my Childhood Sweetheart - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It was the same deep winter, the same rainy night.

The adults were away, leaving two young boys home alone.

“Brother Ji, can I not take a bath? It’s so cold.”

“No, you’ve made yourself so dirty.”

“But the bathroom heater is broken, it’s freezing.”

“Then why did you fight with people in the mud?”

“I know I was wrong.”

“How were you wrong?”

“I shouldn’t have fought in the mud; I should have found a clean place.”

“…”

Han Ji pushed the boy into the bathroom and gave an order like a little adult: “Take off your clothes.”

He Wenqi stood still, his hair stuck with half-dried mud, his long eyelashes fluttering, and his eyes glistening and clear.

Han Ji gave a short sigh and entered the bathroom himself: “Then you stand to the side. I’ll wash first, and once the room warms up, you can wash.”

He Wenqi showed his little white teeth and nodded repeatedly.

The bathroom was steamy, with white foam splashing everywhere. The two boys, aged eight or nine, played and frolicked for a while until their faces were flushed red from the washing.

“Not cold anymore, right?” Han Ji dodged the showerhead, dried the water droplets off his body to the side, wrapped himself in a bath towel, and pushed the door open to leave.

“Yeah, not cold, it’s so warm.” Now, He Wenqi was somewhat unwilling to leave the bathroom.

“Rinse a bit longer; I’ll call you when it’s time to come out,” Han Ji said.

“Okay.”

After a while, Han Ji called him.

There was no heating in the house. He Wenqi wrapped himself in another clean bath towel and rushed out of the bathroom.

Han Ji lifted a corner of the quilt on the bed, and He Wenqi quickly burrowed inside.

The bed had already been warmed by Han Ji’s body temperature, yet He Wenqi still curled his body and pressed against him.

…

The temperature gradually faded, and He Wenqi began to shiver, hugging his arms: “It’s so cold, Brother Ji…”

He opened his eyes to a white ceiling and plain walls.

On the desk opposite the bed sat a wide-screen monitor, with the tabletop piled high with sketches and books. Leaning against a desk leg was a half-man-high picture frame, tightly wrapped in brown paper.

He Wenqi pressed his temples; his body felt cold, and he had a slight headache.

He had forgotten to turn on the air conditioning last night. He had been caught in the cold wind on the street and sat in the living room for so long; his sleep was poor, filled with nothing but dreams.

He picked up his phone by the bedside and glanced at it; it was not yet 8:00 AM.

He Wenqi got up and changed into a loose light-blue sweater—a casual drop-shoulder style with soft fabric that made his deep, dark features look a bit more delicate.

He went to the living room and pulled open the floor-to-ceiling curtains. The rain had stopped, but the sky remained gloomy. The gray mist shrouded the entire city, making it look as if Cinderella had stripped off her grand evening gown, no longer dazzlingly bright.

After washing up and while waiting for the water to boil, He Wenqi filled the cat bowl with food and changed the water to fresh. There were two slices of leftover toast from yesterday in the kitchen; He Wenqi ate them haphazardly with a carton of milk.

Once the coffee was brewed, He Wenqi took his laptop to the small dining table by the window and began revising design drafts.

He had changed jobs only a few months ago and hadn’t yet passed his probation period.

The company was originally the Chinese branch of an international communication firm. Later, because the parent company shifted its business focus back, it was taken over by the Xingsheng Group, becoming a subsidiary called Xingsheng Entertainment. The handover process was complete, and the new CEO was set to take office after New Year’s Day next month.

None of this had much to do with He Wenqi; the probation period lasted half a year, and since his entry into the company was under somewhat special circumstances, whether he could stay was still unknown.

The daylight gradually brightened as the sun broke through the clouds, and the city revived.

His eyes were a bit tired from focusing for too long. After finishing the last set of layers, He Wenqi gazed out the floor-to-ceiling window. The buildings outside, staggered in height, were graced by the warm sun one by one, and his heart felt toasted by this faint orange light.

Having finished his coffee, he twisted his neck, stood up to stretch, and clicked on his phone’s music player. He picked a song with a cheerful melody and sang along, twisting to the rhythm while washing his coffee cup.

The apartment had two floors. Qiao Yuan tapped on the glass partition from the loft in protest: “Brother Qi, I want to sleep a bit longer.”

This was a reminder that he was being too noisy.

He Wenqi danced even more joyfully: “Yuan-er, get up quickly. Big brother is taking you out for a big meal today.”

Qiao Yuan, dazed, fell back onto the bed: “Did you win the lottery?”

“The lottery is no match for hands that can create wealth. I just finished a job; I’ll deliver the items later. If they’re satisfied, there will be more collaboration.” He Wenqi whistled.

The loft was quiet for a moment, followed by a flurry of messy footsteps as Qiao Yuan limped down while holding the handrail, squinting through his eyes: “What time is it?”

“Twelve o’clock.” He Wenqi changed into a pair of straight-leg jeans in his room, folding up the cuffs. “Get yourself ready; I’m going to handle some business first and will call you later.”

“Are you serious?” Qiao Yuan suddenly opened his eyes wide.

“Of course. What do you want to eat?” He Wenqi looked at his foot. “How about fish maw and pig trotter soup? ‘Using the shape to supplement the shape’—it’ll help you heal faster.”

Qiao Yuan said coquettishly: “Brother Qi—”

“Stop! I told you not to use tildes when talking to me.” He Wenqi suppressed the urge to hit him.

Qiao Yuan crossed two fingers to make an “X” over his lips and obediently shut his mouth.

He Wenqi carried the paper-wrapped picture frame out of his room, put on his coat, changed his shoes, and pushed the door open to leave.

“Hello, Mr. Qin?” He Wenqi made a call from the backseat of the taxi. “Yes, I’m He Wenqi. Regarding the time we agreed on—yes, it’s finished. Okay, see you later.”

Just as he was about to put the phone back in his pocket after hanging up, it vibrated again.

“Hello? He Wenqi, I heard the new CEO is arriving at the company tomorrow.” It was Ling Chen, a colleague from the design department.

“Really? I didn’t know about that.”

“Huh? You actually didn’t know. Didn’t the people in your department notify you? That can’t be; HR and Administration lead the reception work. The new CEO is arriving a whole month early, so shouldn’t you be working overtime to prepare?”

Ling Chen was the type who acted familiar with everyone; he loved wandering around the company when he had nothing to do. He was enthusiastic and a gossip, and his frequent haunts were the pantry and the front desk where He Wenqi was stationed.

Since he had only been with the company for three months, He Wenqi said: “Even if there’s a reception, it’s the supervisor’s business and has nothing to do with me. Besides, I’m not exactly a formal employee.”

“How can it have nothing to do with you? Working at the company means you represent the company; it doesn’t matter if you’re an intern or formal. Isn’t your front desk the face of the company? President Han will see you first thing when he walks in; we’re all lined up behind you.”

“President Han?”

“Yeah, the new CEO’s surname is Han.”

“Wasn’t it Herbert?”

“That’s his English name. His Chinese name is Han Ji—the same race as us, not a foreigner.”

“Han—Ji?!” Wenqi repeated. It couldn’t be such a coincidence; was this name very common?

“I originally wanted to fish for some news from you, but it seems you know even less than I do. Fine, anyway, now that I’ve told you, you can have some mental preparation. I heard the new boss is very young and very strict—not very easy to talk to—so be careful with your work.” Having said enough, Ling Chen prepared to end the call.

“Okay, I understand.”

It wasn’t until he got out of the car that He Wenqi broke away from the name “Han Ji.” He shook his head, trying to clear his mind.

It was just a shared name; how could it be such a coincidence?

It was rare for Ling Chen to remind him, but he was just a lowly intern at the front desk; he wouldn’t come into contact with the executive level.

In a suite at a star-rated hotel in Jing City, Han Ji had just finished lunch. A waiter brought black coffee; he took a sip and then left it untouched.

The heating in the room was sufficient. Han Ji was dressed in a black shirt and trousers, no tie, and was browsing through the personnel files of company employees on his computer.

Even though he had returned to the country a month early, the plan was still to take office next month. He hadn’t originally intended to go to the company tomorrow, but he had just changed his mind on a whim.

This morning, he had once again looked over the materials of the company he was taking over. He had seen these things before, but the organizational structure PPT had just been sent by his assistant; he saw the name “He Wenqi” on it, with the position listed as “Intern Receptionist.”

Such a coincidence? Could it be that person?

Probably not; he studied animation and graduated from a top-tier university. No matter what, he wouldn’t be in this position.

But he still contacted the HR manager, asking to see the files of all employees, including interns.

The HR manager was named Fang Zhenkang. He was currently on his way to an amusement park with his wife and daughter. On a weekend morning, he suddenly received his first task from the new boss.

Fang Zhenkang agreed to Han Ji’s request over the phone, then sent a message to the CEO’s assistant. Assistant Chen then notified the IT colleagues in the technical department to grant Han Ji the highest access rights to the internal system.

Employee files consisted of hand-filled forms, scanned and uploaded to the system as electronic versions.

After logging into the system, Han Ji directly pulled up He Wenqi’s file, eager to confirm what was in his heart.

The webpage opened slowly, and the small ID photo in the upper right corner popped up. Han Ji felt his palms getting a bit damp. He switched hands, exhaled a long breath, wiped the thin sweat from his palms, and leaned back against the chair.

The photo confirmed that this intern receptionist, “He Wenqi,” was indeed the person he had seen with his own eyes yesterday. The difference was that the youth in the photo had bright, brilliant eyes, while that person yesterday… was cold enough to freeze someone.

But how could he be a receptionist?

Han Ji stared at the photo for a while longer, aimed his phone camera at the picture, and pressed the shutter.

A slight curve appeared at the corner of his lips; no matter what, he had found him.

Moving his gaze downward, a few lines on the electronic form summed up a person’s entire current experience. Everything Han Ji knew and didn’t know was here.

The only family member listed was his mother, and the name Qiao Yuan was written in the emergency contact column.

Han Ji didn’t read in order; with just a glance, this information entered his sight first.

The schools he attended were familiar to Han Ji—elementary, middle, and high school. They were alumni, only he was a year older and thus a grade higher. Strictly speaking, He Wenqi would have to call him “Senior.”

The corners of Han Ji’s mouth curled up again, then suddenly froze, went flat, and finally tightened into a straight line.

For university, He Wenqi had written a very unfamiliar school name; in Han Ji’s knowledge, he had never heard of this school. He searched online and found it was an obscure vocational college located right in their hometown of Jin City.

Looking at the education column on the file, it said “Junior College Degree.”

Han Ji carefully read the university He Wenqi had filled in again; he had only studied there for two years.

He remembered when He Wenqi came to him with an admission notice years ago, he had mentioned the university’s name—it was a well-known, key national university. He was certain he hadn’t remembered it wrong.

But what was written before him…

Han Ji was filled with doubts.