The Wealthy Old Man’s Palm-Sized Pet - Chapter 18

Song Zhiyuan stared at his phone, lost in thought.

Looking at it from every angle, he could only reach one conclusion: not only had he sent messages to Fu Xingnian last night, but he had also video-called him for an hour.

The messages left a written record, so Song Zhiyuan knew exactly what he had said—he had rambled on about what he ate and told Fu Xingnian that he had been drinking. Because he was drunk, some of his sentences were a jumbled mess. Now, looking at the emojis he had sent, his own facial expression mirrored those icons in shock.

He had actually sent Fu Xingnian emojis. Fortunately, Fu Xingnian’s replies were as stoic as ever.

But as for that hour-long video call, Song Zhiyuan truly could not remember what he had said. He only vaguely recalled that when he first saw Fu Xingnian’s face, he had incessantly praised the man for being handsome. He assumed he had said nice things; otherwise, Fu Xingnian would have hung up immediately.

He had no memory of Fu Xingnian’s reaction or any specific dialogue, but Song Zhiyuan suspected he might have eventually fallen asleep during the call. Still, something felt off—if he had fallen asleep, why did the call last for an hour? Fu Xingnian actually hadn’t hung up for sixty minutes.

I didn’t say anything nonsensical after getting drunk, did I? Song Zhiyuan massaged his temples. He didn’t even know how much he had drunk last night. Fortunately, it was home-brewed grain wine; despite the intoxication, he didn’t have a headache or dizziness after waking up.

Since he couldn’t remember a thing, he decided to stop dwelling on it. He had to rush to the riverbank to help out.

The seven-day holiday ended quickly, and it was time for Song Zhiyuan to return to school.

The night before his departure, while he was packing his things, he received a flight notification. Someone had booked a flight for him—in first class.

Tickets were hard to come by during the holiday rush. Song Zhiyuan had originally only managed to secure a high-speed rail ticket, which would have taken several hours.

It was obvious who had booked the flight. Song Zhiyuan wondered if Fu Xingnian was impatient to settle accounts with him. He truly couldn’t recall a single word of their conversation.

As he packed, his grandmother came in with a bag of fruit, telling him to share it with his roommates. She nagged him with a thousand instructions, her only concern being his well-being. She reminded him again that if he ever got a boyfriend, he must bring him home to meet her.

Before leaving, Song Zhiyuan secretly tucked some money under his grandmother’s pillow.

This was Song Zhiyuan’s first time sitting in first class. The seats were comfortable and the space was generous.

Song Zhiyuan: Mr. Fu, I’ve boarded the plane. Song Zhiyuan: First class is very comfortable. Thank you, Mr. Fu.

As expected, Fu Xingnian had not replied by the time he had to turn off his phone. Song Zhiyuan didn’t understand what the man was thinking.

An hour later, the plane landed safely.

Upon exiting the airport, Song Zhiyuan spotted Chu Wei. Chu Wei adjusted his glasses and said, “Mr. Song, President Fu sent me to pick you up.”

After driving for a while, Song Zhiyuan began to feel that something was wrong. He realized they weren’t heading toward the hotel. Every time Fu Xingnian met him, it was at the same hotel; he knew Fu Xingnian kept a long-term suite there. But now, they were heading in the exact opposite direction.

Though he was confused, Song Zhiyuan didn’t ask. Perhaps Fu Xingnian had changed hotels. As a “canary,” he knew he should have the self-awareness not to ask unnecessary questions.

Beside him, Chu Wei noticed Song Zhiyuan’s silence. He admired how the boy was clearly curious yet never pried. He had expected Song Zhiyuan to ask why; the boy was indeed different from others.

An hour later, Chu Wei brought Song Zhiyuan to a high-end residential complex.

Song Zhiyuan’s confusion deepened, but he silently followed Chu Wei into the building. Chu Wei pressed the elevator button and told Song Zhiyuan the floor number. As Fu Xingnian’s assistant, his job ended here.

Song Zhiyuan stopped Chu Wei before he could leave. “Brother Chu, these are some fruit specialties from my hometown. They’re very delicious; please take some to try.”

Chu Wei paused, then accepted the fruit with a polite smile. “Thank you, Mr. Song.”

“Brother Chu, don’t call me ‘Mr. Song.’ Just call me by my name,” Song Zhiyuan said.

When he stepped out of the elevator, Song Zhiyuan finally understood why Chu Wei hadn’t given him a room number. It was a luxury flat that occupied the entire floor—one unit per level.

Is this Fu Xingnian’s home? Why did he ask me to come here?

Song Zhiyuan hesitantly pressed the doorbell and waited quietly. The door opened to reveal Fu Xingnian. Even at home, the man was dressed formally in a dress shirt and trousers, looking as sharp as ever. Song Zhiyuan suddenly thought that with a physique like that, Fu Xingnian would look incredibly sexy in a black turtleneck sweater.

“Mr. Fu, I’m back,” Song Zhiyuan said.

When he smiled, it was like flowers blooming sweet and refreshing.

Fu Xingnian suppressed the emotions in his eyes. “Come in.”

Upon entering, Song Zhiyuan realized the place was filled with the atmosphere of daily life. As if sensing his thoughts, Fu Xingnian glanced at him. Song Zhiyuan opened his backpack and took out the fruit. “Mr. Fu, I brought this specifically for you. Do you want to try some? It’s very good. I’ll go wash it.”

Song Zhiyuan washed the fruit, sliced it into pieces, and placed it on a platter for Fu Xingnian. Whether it was the fruit or Song Zhiyuan’s natural scent, Fu Xingnian caught a hint of something sweet and fresh.

He didn’t want the fruit. Right now, Fu Xingnian wanted to “eat” something else entirely. The voice of Song Zhiyuan acting spoiled over the phone that night seemed to ring in his ears again.

Pulled into Fu Xingnian’s embrace, Song Zhiyuan felt a change in the man—a change he was all too familiar with, one that made his tailbone tingle.

“Mr. Fu, I haven’t showered yet,” Song Zhiyuan whispered.

Fu Xingnian carried him directly into the bathroom, placed him under the showerhead, and turned the handle.

The cold water hit him suddenly, making Song Zhiyuan instinctively cling to Fu Xingnian. “It’s so cold!”

This embrace pleased Fu Xingnian, and he reached out to adjust the temperature.

A few seconds later, the stream turned warm. In those few seconds, Song Zhiyuan’s clothes had become soaked, causing them to cling tightly to him. The white T-shirt left nothing to the imagination, highlighting his beautiful physique.

Song Zhiyuan’s hair was wet, and droplets from his fringe fell onto his lips. His wet hair partially obscured his eyes, making him look pitifully beautiful.

Fu Xingnian brushed the hair back, revealing Song Zhiyuan’s smooth, handsome forehead. Most people look less attractive when drenched, but not Song Zhiyuan; the wetness only added a sense of “fragile beauty.”

He looked at Fu Xingnian with damp eyes, just as he had that night. It was a look that caused one’s heart to skip a beat for no reason. His lips still looked just as “kissable.”

Fu Xingnian’s thumb rubbed over Song Zhiyuan’s lips a soft, velvet touch. Song Zhiyuan’s tongue lightly swept past his fingertip before pulling away, yet the contact was so hot it made Fu Xingnian’s hand tremble.

When Fu Xingnian’s mouth was only a fist’s distance from those soft lips, he turned his head away. Instead, he began to bite and nuzzle Song Zhiyuan’s neck, specifically targeting the small red mole there.

In that moment, Song Zhiyuan’s heart almost stopped. He thought Fu Xingnian was going to kiss him, but fortunately, it wasn’t a kiss.

Wet clothes are never comfortable. With practiced ease, Fu Xingnian quickly stripped them both.

Inside the bathroom, water splashed and roared, mingling with the sounds of Song Zhiyuan’s voice and the rhythmic impact of bodies.

Fu Xingnian kissed the boy’s neck. “Song Zhiyuan, why were you so quick today?”

Song Zhiyuan pressed his hands against the tiles, his fingertips turning pink as he pleaded, “Mr. Fu, stop talking…”

But Fu Xingnian loved seeing him lose control—loved the bashful and embarrassed expression. This was the real Song Zhiyuan.

Soon, Song Zhiyuan’s mind went blank again, his body slumping weakly against the man behind him.

When it was over, Fu Xingnian handed Song Zhiyuan a clean towel to dry his hair. Song Zhiyuan draped the towel over his head and pursed his lips. “Mr. Fu, I’m a bit thirsty. I want some water.”

As Fu Xingnian handed him the glass, he suddenly said, “In the future, you can just call me by my name.”

Exhausted from the ordeal in the bathroom, Song Zhiyuan’s throat was dry. He was taking large gulps of water and nearly choked at those words.

“Mr. Fu, what did you just say?”

Fu Xingnian was letting him call him by his name?

Seeing the boy’s shocked face, Fu Xingnian’s heart sank. “Song Zhiyuan, do you really not remember anything from that night?”

Song Zhiyuan froze again. The “night” Fu Xingnian referred to must be the night he was drunk. He had assumed Fu Xingnian wouldn’t bring it up again.

What on earth did I say that made him remember it until now?

Song Zhiyuan lowered his long eyelashes. “I was drunk that day and can’t remember anything. If I said something wrong, Mr. Fu, please don’t be angry.”

Fu Xingnian’s expression darkened by several degrees. He doesn’t remember a thing. This meant Song Zhiyuan wouldn’t remember acting spoiled, nor would he remember saying: “Fu Xingnian, I’ll call you Fu Xingnian from now on, okay?” At the time, Fu Xingnian hadn’t responded.

But now, Fu Xingnian gritted his teeth. Fine. He doesn’t remember a thing!

While Song Zhiyuan was still agonizing over what he might have said, Fu Xingnian pinned him down on the sofa and tore away his bath towel.

Not knowing which sentence had angered the man again, Song Zhiyuan felt Fu Xingnian’s movements become rough more like a punishment.

Why is this man’s mood so unpredictable? he wondered. Fu Xingnian had been quite gentle in the bathroom, but now he seemed like a different person.

Song Zhiyuan knew that today, Fu Xingnian was going to tire him to death.