He Touched Me… While I Was Thinking of Someone Else

The phone grew warm in his hand before Ye Zhiqiu finally moved.

He stood to tidy his worktable, gathering the scattered fabric scraps and tools, preparing to go out for a meal.

The design department hallway was unusually quiet on the weekend. A few people had come in to work, but most offices were empty. Any slight sound was noticeable.

Distracted, Ye Zhiqiu walked toward the elevator. Just as he was about to turn the corner, he heard the sound of a door opening and closing behind him.

It wasn’t a soft sound. He glanced back instinctively.

A young, unfamiliar face was emerging from Zhou Lang’s office.

Ye Zhiqiu hadn’t been at Q.L. long, and most of his time was spent at his desk. Still, he knew most people in the design department, at least by sight. He was sure he’d never seen this person before.

Maybe from another department, he thought.

It was a bit odd for someone from a different department to be visiting Zhou Lang’s office on a weekend, but it was none of his concern. He let it go.

When the elevator arrived, the stranger joined him. The elevator lobby was spacious, yet the man stood right beside him.

“You’re Ye Zhiqiu, right?”

“Mm.” Ye Zhiqiu answered absently, looking up.

“You don’t know who I am?” The young man’s gaze was unreadable.

Ye Zhiqiu’s expression was cool. His clothes were simple: a white coat over a black turtleneck that fit neatly, wrapping his slender neck. Elegant. The fabric looked like fine cashmere.

Simple, but he wore it well.

Up close, the man’s eyes showed a flicker of admiration.

Ye Zhiqiu was unmoved.

“Is there a reason I should?” He laughed lightly, the sound mocking.

The man was good-looking, maybe on par with Qi Xin. After last night, Ye Zhiqiu wasn’t interested in someone like that.

“Of course.” The stranger seemed amused.

Ye Zhiqiu hated games, and he was in a foul mood. Ready to fight, he wouldn’t hold back.

“Really?” He looked the man over, his voice sharp. “I don’t see it.”

The elevator arrived. He stepped inside.

The man followed, extending his hand. “Qin Wei’an.”

The name was familiar. He’d heard it before. In a different context, he might have placed it easily. But it wasn’t part of his daily life, and he was distracted. He couldn’t remember where.

Qin Wei’an, seeing his hesitation, smiled, thinking his name had the desired effect.

His smile quickly faded.

“Qin Wei’an?” Ye Zhiqiu looked at him. “Sorry, never heard of it. Not interested.”

He never took his hand.

In the lobby, a security guard greeted them. “Little Qin.”

Oh.

Ye Zhiqiu remembered. Qin Wei’an. Qin Jianhe’s disappointing younger brother.

He also remembered where he’d come from. Zhou Lang’s office.

During Qin Wei’an’s tenure at Q.L., Zhou Lang had once taken Meng Da’s place as head of the design department. They must have been close. Still meeting, even now. At Q.L. That meant Zhou Lang had Qin Xusheng’s backing.

“Ye Zhiqiu.” Qin Wei’an was persistent. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Let’s have lunch?”

“Sorry. Not convenient.”

Qin Wei’an was about to insist when Ye Zhiqiu’s phone rang.

He glanced at it. Ye Hongxian again.

“Dad.” He answered, stepping outside.

The sun was warm. He stopped at the entrance, curious. Ye Hongxian rarely called him, let alone multiple times a day.

“Why didn’t you answer?” Ye Hongxian was already irritated.

Ye Zhiqiu gestured for Qin Wei’an to go ahead, then spoke lazily into the phone.

“I was working. I put it on silent. I’m just out for lunch now.” He paused. “Something wrong?”

“That Qi Xin. What’s his problem? He was at the house last night. Now, as I’m leaving, his car’s there again.”

“I told you to stay away from him.”

Ye Hongxian was on a roll. “I’m raising you two, and you’re nothing but trouble.”

Qi Xin must have gone to the house, afraid to come to the office again. Bad luck for him. Ye Hongxian was rarely home on weekends. Running into him twice was unfortunate.

“I am keeping my distance.” Ye Zhiqiu laughed. “If I weren’t, he’d be here having lunch with me.”

Ye Hongxian had no response to that.

“Deal with your own mess.”

“Got it.” Ye Zhiqiu’s voice was sweet, giving Ye Hongxian no room to vent.

He was already in a foul mood. The business was struggling. Ye Zhixia was causing a scene. And now Qi Xin.

Ye Zhiqiu, lately, had been unusually agreeable. The harsh words died on his lips.

* * * *

Upstairs, Tao Ruoqing watched Ye Hongxian drive away. Her face hardened as she turned to Ye Zhixia.

She had let him out for the wrap party. Ye Hongxian had come home unexpectedly, found him gone, and torn into her. He’d been confined since.

“Ye Zhiqiu is moving out,” she said. “Because of you.”

“So? You wanted him gone.” Ye Zhixia laughed coldly. “Now you’re sad?”

“Don’t be rude.”

“What?” He was relentless. “He’s leaving, you’re losing control, so you want to control me now?”

She was silent.

He threw his phone at her. “Even Bai You got a second lead. You keep me here. I can’t see Gao Wenye. I can’t work. His friends laughed at me before. Isn’t that enough?”

“Is it him?” she asked. “Is it Gao Wenye?”

“Yes.”

She laughed, but there was no joy. All her schemes, and her child was ruled by emotion.

“Your father won’t agree. If he cuts you off, you’ll lose everything.”

He hesitated. She had raised him to be the heir. It was ingrained. Gao Wenye, he suspected, had been drawn to his background. Without it, he might lose him.

And if he lost everything, Ye Zhiqiu would gain it.

“If he finds someone better, will you regret this?”

He’d always been second in looks. He was determined not to be second in anything else.

He laughed. “Who? Qi Xin?”

He was sure Ye Zhiqiu couldn’t do better. Most people’s marriages weren’t their own. He had options because she had made them.

Ye Zhiqiu’s suitors wanted his face. Marriage was different. That’s why he ignored them. The only one he’d ever considered was Qi Xin. Her choice.

She wasn’t so sure. She looked at Qi Xin’s car, frowning.

Last night, Ye Zhiqiu had called, saying he’d work all night. She’d called four times today. No answer.

He was already drifting.

“Qi Xin is afraid of him,” she said. “That’s not a good sign.”

He was unconcerned. He thought of the bottle he’d given Qi Xin.

“You’re too impatient. He’s playing nice now. It’ll change.”

She didn’t answer.

“Worry about me,” he said. “If you can’t help, I’d rather die.”

First, the photos. Now, his life.

She knew he wouldn’t. But if he made a scene, her secrets might come out.

She’d always pretended to favor Ye Zhiqiu. But she’d protected him. He’d never been seriously hurt. She’d chosen safe roles, kept his medical records from Ye Hongxian.

Suicide was different.

“Set up a meeting with Gao Wenye,” she said.

“Why?” He was suspicious.

“If I agree, I’ll meet him first.”

He relaxed.

“I want him. I want the inheritance. Tell me what to do.”

She turned away, looking out the window.

“Keep your distance. See the people I picked. Make your father think…”

Qi Xin’s car started, pulled away.

“…that you’re listening. The inheritance will be yours.”

* * * *

Ye Zhiqiu called Qi Xin.

“I didn’t mean to run into your father.” Qi Xin was eager. “I want to be strong enough that he’ll accept me.”

“Don’t. I’m not an object.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“I’ll eat first. Order more when you get here.”

The designs were doing well. Sales were up. Wholesalers were calling. It could be their first real profit.

A mid-range brand wanted more designs. They wanted to work together.

He was a designer, but his work didn’t compare. He’d been trying to reach Ye Zhiqiu for days.

At the restaurant, Ye Zhiqiu was finishing his soup.

He explained the situation.

“I know you’re busy, but this is a big chance. I want your father to approve of us.”

Ye Zhiqiu smiled faintly. “Don’t wait at my house.”

“How else can I reach you?”

He didn’t answer calls. He’d been upset about the office. Now this.

If he had more success, maybe Ye Hongxian would accept him.

VIA had stabilized, with the designs Ye Zhiqiu had left, new designers, and the partnership with Meilan.

He’d made a miracle. He could do it for Qiyun.

His enthusiasm faded. He put down his chopsticks.

Ye Zhiqiu was by the window, his skin almost translucent. He was thinking, not looking at him.

“Xiaoqiu?”

“Tired.”

“Where?”

Everywhere. His legs and waist were sore. He thought of Qin Jianhe.

He laughed.

“My legs.”

Qi Xin knelt beside him.

Ye Zhiqiu took off his shoes. “Massage my feet.”

Qi Xin held his foot, doing what he’d learned at the spa.

It was comfortable. Ye Zhiqiu leaned back, closed his eyes.

After a while, he lifted his foot. “My calf.”

His calf, last night, had been held by another man.

He smiled. “I’ll do the next set.”