I’ll Make You Happy for the Rest of Your Life

The familiar, warm woody base note of the cologne lingered at the tip of his nose. An overwhelming wave of grievance surged up, completely unexpected.

Ye Zhiqiu buried his eyes in Qin Jianhe’s shoulder, not moving at all.
Quietly, fiercely trying to suppress this indescribable feeling.

This feeling was foreign to him; Ye Zhiqiu had almost never experienced it before.

Even when he had been treated that way in his past life, even when his wings had been completely broken, even when he had been slowly trampled into the mud, unable to breathe…

Even when, later, he finally understood the reason for everything.
What he had felt most was despair, pain, and disbelief.
Along with anger, hatred, and regret.

He had felt all of those emotions, but never grievance.

Because it was he who had chosen the wrong path, it was he who had trusted the wrong person…
His very bones were written with resoluteness, so he had gritted his teeth and borne the bitter fruit.

Only occasionally, he would fantasize.
Fantasize about the kind of vibrant youth and bright life he should have had if none of that had ever happened.
And this fantasy would, in turn, become a sharp blade, tormenting him cruelly.

Ceaseless, an infinite loop.

Like an abyss with no end in sight, no matter how hard he tried, he could not see the light.

So, when he had accidentally driven into that lake, he hadn’t been afraid of death.

For him back then, death was just another form of release.

But now…

No one had said a harsh word to him, no one had hurt or blamed him. Instead, someone was caring for him so cautiously.

Yet inexplicably, he felt wronged, felt his heart burning hot, his nose and eyes uncontrollably stinging with an sourness.

The room was silent. Qin Jianhe held him, saying nothing.

His embrace was warm, broad, like a silent, steady mountain, and Ye Zhiqiu’s heart finally calmed down.

After an unknown amount of time, Qin Jianhe finally stirred.
He raised his hand and carefully covered Ye Zhiqiu’s head, gently rubbing his hair.

“I’m fine,” Ye Zhiqiu said, instinctively looking up at the strong sense of comfort in his gesture.
Qin Jianhe looked down at him, gently touching the corner of his eye.

Ye Zhiqiu wasn’t crying; his expression could even be described as very calm, but the slightly upturned corner of his eye was a little redder than usual.

“Mm.” Qin Jianhe responded softly. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Ye Zhiqiu pressed his lips together, looking down at the rose in Qin Jianhe’s hand.

His coat was still draped over his arm. Due to the curve of his arm, the rose was still held slightly upward.

“I didn’t realize you were so kind-hearted,” Ye Zhiqiu said softly after a while. “Taking care of an old flower seller.”

“I’ve always been kind-hearted,” Qin Jianhe laughed very softly. “If you spend more time with me, you’ll discover even more.”

As if on cue, the rose in Qin Jianhe’s hand swayed slightly.

“Tch.”
He had never seen anyone so fond of boasting about themselves.
Ye Zhiqiu clicked his tongue softly, then finally couldn’t help but laugh.

He reached out and took the rose into his hand.

The originally cool stem had been warmed by someone else. Ye Zhiqiu held it in his palm, unconsciously tightening his grip.

Not only was the temperature searing into his palm, but he also felt a vague unease at reaching out his hand.

He had never been so indecisive.
Even his fall in his past life had carried a resoluteness that brooked no turning back.

“So,” Ye Zhiqiu deflected, deliberately ignoring this strange feeling, “what’s for dinner? Are you making the fish head?”

Qin Jianhe looked at him, a faint smile finally surfacing in his eyes.

“Tomorrow,” he said. “Let you recover.”
Ye Zhiqiu: “…”

He didn’t seem to be all that…

“We won’t cook tonight,” Qin Jianhe said, looking at him. “You need to rest.”

“I know, you just said you’d make it tomorrow, didn’t you?” Mid-sentence, Ye Zhiqiu unexpectedly met Qin Jianhe’s smiling eyes and suddenly understood.

What Qin Jianhe meant by “cook” wasn’t cooking the fish.

Damn. What was Qin Jianhe thinking?
How could he switch so seamlessly, without changing expression, back to that topic?

“That won’t do,” Ye Zhiqiu started to fall back on his usual reasoning.
“Why not, Ye Zhiqiu?” Qin Jianhe looked at him, barely suppressing a smile. “It’s your choice: ‘cook’ or fish head.”

Damn, that was too hard.
Ye Zhiqiu blinked, saying nothing for a long moment.

“Ye Zhiqiu,” Qin Jianhe said, patient and persuasive. “In this kind of relationship, it doesn’t have to be about s*x. It can also be about mutual comfort.”

Ye Zhiqiu was quiet for a moment, and for some reason, he thought of his father, Ye Hongxian.

At his age, Ye Hongxian spent seven or eight nights out of ten away from home.
When he thought about it, that probably meant Ye Hongxian and Tao Ruoqing…

“Ahem.” Ye Zhiqiu cleared his throat softly and finally made his choice. “I want to cook the fish head.”

“Want to ‘cook’ and have fish head?” Qin Jianhe looked at him ambiguously. “Ye Zhiqiu, you’re quite greedy.”

“Damn,” Ye Zhiqiu cursed, laughing despite himself.

Seeing that he was laughing so hard tears were about to come out, Qin Jianhe pulled him closer by the wrist.
“Alright, then,” he asked. “Besides the fish head, what else do you want?”

“I want chicken soup too,” Ye Zhiqiu said almost without thinking.

During his days abroad, he had often thought about Qin Jianhe’s chicken soup.
Better than any restaurant’s.

“Okay.” Qin Jianhe smiled, ruffling his hair.

Ye Zhiqiu looked up at him, then instinctively stepped back.

He held the rose, paused for a moment, then got up to find scissors, trimmed the stem, and placed it next to the plastic rose.

Meanwhile, Qin Jianhe, his expression unchanged, took his coat and went to change into casual clothes, then washed his hands and went into the kitchen.

Nie Fengjun was always worried he wouldn’t eat properly when he was busy, so she would have fruits, vegetables, meat, and eggs delivered to his door.
Including prepared foods.

For example, the cold sliced beef Ye Zhiqiu had made last night had been specially braised by Fu Mingjin.

Fu Mingjin was a university professor. Besides teaching and research, his greatest pleasure was cooking.

Although there was always a housekeeper at the villa, as long as Fu Mingjin was home, the kitchen was his domain.
He loved personally preparing nourishing soups and dishes for Nie Fengjun.

Incidentally, he also took excellent care of Qin Jianhe.

If Ye Zhiqiu’s intrusion into Qin Jianhe’s life had turned stagnant water into a bubbling spring, then Fu Mingjin was a catalyst in his life.

It was through him that Qin Jianhe first saw a completely different side of love.

Yet even so, Qin Jianhe still felt this side was precious and rare, not something everyone was fortunate enough to have.

Until Ye Zhiqiu entered his world.

…

Qin Jianhe skillfully rinsed rice and put it in the pot, then took out some braised chicken feet, delivered with the beef, from the freezer and put them in a pot to heat up.
Then he steered into the lamb, shredded the scallions, and started a pot of hot lamb soup.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Ye Zhiqiu had just taken out his laptop and set it on the table, planning to finish the design he hadn’t completed in London.

But as soon as the computer started, his phone rang.

It was Qi Xin.

Actually, in the afternoon after lunch, while discussing business with Zhang Mian, he had already received a message from Qi Xin.
Calculating the time, he had probably just landed.

Qi Xin said he had waited for him in Paris for a long time, and only found out he had already returned to China when he specially went to Q.L.’s hotel to find him.

He didn’t mention Jiang Nan at all.

At the time, Ye Zhiqiu had been busy, glanced at it, and clicked away.

After finishing his work, he had completely forgotten about Qi Xin.

In this life, things were completely different from the last.
Ye Zhiqiu no longer cared about anything to do with Qi Xin.
Even if he and Jiang Nan were in bed together, he wouldn’t feel a thing.

He might even think they were two peas in a pod, a perfect match.

Now, it was just a message.
A message from someone who had been played like a fool but didn’t even dare to question or accuse. Ye Zhiqiu paid it no mind.

Letting the phone ring, Ye Zhiqiu opened his drawing software, then calmly answered.

He didn’t try to hide it, putting it on speaker.

The flight from Paris had taken twelve hours. Along the way, exhausted and worried, Qi Xin had a splitting headache.
But when he closed his eyes, his mind was unusually clear.

After landing, he had carefully crafted a message to Ye Zhiqiu.

Mostly playing the victim.

He said he had waited a long time in Paris, that he had specially gone to Q.L.’s hotel, that Ye Zhiqiu’s colleague told him he had already returned, asking why he hadn’t told him, saying he missed him so much…

His tone was as even as possible, with no emotional particles, afraid of provoking Ye Zhiqiu and getting blocked again.

Leaving aside feelings, even just considering Qiyun, he couldn’t do without Ye Zhiqiu now.
He didn’t dare provoke him in the slightest.

After sending it, Qi Xin waited for Ye Zhiqiu’s reply.

The Qi family factory wasn’t far from the airport. Qi Xin didn’t go home first; he went straight to the factory.

There were many direct orders from after the shows waiting for him to handle.

Qi Xin sat down and looked at a few.

Probably because he hadn’t slept since seeing Ye Zhiqiu’s gossip that morning and deciding to go to Paris, he found himself nodding off after only a short while and fell asleep without knowing it.

He was woken by the roar of a truck delivering fabric outside and the loud voices of the unloading workers.

Qi Xin sat there in a daze, feeling freezing cold.

The factory office heating wasn’t great to begin with, always a bit chilly, let alone falling asleep without even a coat.

Having not rested properly for days, he had caught a chill. Qi Xin shivered, his head feeling heavy.
An ache seemed to seep from his very bones.

But he couldn’t afford to care about any of that. As soon as he was awake, he grabbed his phone.

There was still no reply from Ye Zhiqiu in the chat app.

It was already dark outside. Qi Xin couldn’t wait any longer.
And he felt he had waited long enough, that this call was completely justified and explainable.

The phone rang for a while before finally being answered. Ye Zhiqiu’s voice came through. “Hello.”

Like heavenly music, Qi Xin’s heart leaped with joy. He immediately called out, “Xiaoqiu.”

Then he felt a surge of grievance. “I finally got a hold of you.”

The sound of a mouse clicking came from the other end, along with a soft laugh from Ye Zhiqiu.

“What’s up?” His tone was a little casual. He added, “I saw your message this afternoon. Sorry, I was busy and forgot to reply.”

Qi Xin: “…”

“It’s okay.”

“Xiaoqiu,” he asked, “when did you get back? I even specially went to Paris to see you.”

“I’ve been back for two days,” Ye Zhiqiu said, a hint of confusion in his voice. “What, didn’t I tell you?”

Qi Xin: “…”

“Sorry,” Ye Zhiqiu said again, as if checking his chat log. “I was jet-lagged when I got back, my head was all foggy. I sent the message meant for you to a colleague instead.”

Of course! Qi Xin’s heart immediately relaxed.
Ye Zhiqiu had just made a small, harmless mistake.

He should have been patient, not flown off to Paris.

“It’s okay,” he said quickly, perking up. “I heard the mouse clicking. Are you busy?”

“Tell me about it,” Ye Zhiqiu complained. “I’m drawing designs for you, aren’t I?”

Qi Xin: “…”

Qi Xin was so moved he could cry, okay?
He even instantly regretted his suspicions about Ye Zhiqiu after Jiang Nan’s phone call.

And that gossip rumor.
He didn’t dare ask, but because of what Ye Zhiqiu had just said, he silently crossed it out in his heart.

Everything else was fake, but Ye Zhiqiu’s dedication to him was real and undeniable.

Although Ye Zhiqiu didn’t know it, Qi Xin secretly vowed to never doubt him again, no matter what happened.

Ye Zhiqiu’s voice came again, not exactly enthusiastic, but Qi Xin’s heart felt instantly warmed.

“You can’t just rely on those few hit designs,” he said. “That’s why I’m staying up late, working hard to create more for you.”

Qi Xin opened his mouth, but for a long time, no words came out.

“Thank you, Xiaoqiu,” he finally heard his own voice, thick with emotion. “Are you at home? I want to see you. Can I?”

“Wait a couple of days,” Ye Zhiqiu said, not answering the question, just laughing. “I’m busy, don’t bother me.”

For some reason, Qi Xin heard a hint of affection in that sentence.
His heart surged. It took him a moment to choke out a response, but when he opened his mouth, a huge sneeze came out instead.

Qi Xin: “…”

Already exhausted, and now chilled, Qi Xin thought he probably had a cold.

The sneeze was loud enough to echo in the quiet vastness of Qin Jianhe’s living room, even through the phone receiver.
Ye Zhiqiu glanced sideways at the bright screen, his disgust almost boiling over.

Someone walked up behind him and silently placed a hand on his shoulder.
Ye Zhiqiu looked up and saw Qin Jianhe.

He looked down at him, took advantage of his upward gaze, and kissed him.

Ye Zhiqiu was dazed for a moment. The disgust that had risen at Qi Xin’s voice slowly faded. He instinctively raised his hand and put it around Qin Jianhe’s neck.
The man laughed softly, but his aggressive actions didn’t waver.

On the other end, Qi Xin was still dealing with the aftermath of the sneeze. Finally tidied up, he was touched anew that Ye Zhiqiu was still quietly listening.

Strangely, he felt that Ye Zhiqiu’s temper seemed to have improved since he came back from abroad.

This was the first time he had been so patient with him.

“Xiaoqiu,” Qi Xin played the victim, trying to further win Ye Zhiqiu’s heart, “I’ve been thinking about you so much the last couple of days, I haven’t slept at all. And now I have a cold…”

“I miss you so much,” Qi Xin said.

No one spoke on the other end, but soon the call was silently disconnected.

Qi Xin: “…”

But thinking about it, Ye Zhiqiu was still busy working for Qiyun, while he was only thinking about romance…
Qi Xin felt a little ashamed.

It was dark outside. He stood up unsteadily, looking for a thermometer.
Maybe he stood up too quickly. In that instant, Qi Xin saw stars, and the world seemed to tilt.
Before he could make a sound, everything went black, and he collapsed heavily.

****

When the kiss ended, Qin Jianhe smiled and looked down, rubbing Ye Zhiqiu’s lips.

“Why did you hang up my call?” Ye Zhiqiu asked.

“Annoying,” Qin Jianhe said quietly, his voice slightly hoarse.

Ye Zhiqiu pressed his lips together, then wrinkled his nose and laughed.
Qi Xin was indeed annoying.

On the screen was a summer dress design, not yet colored, but the lines alone were beautiful enough.

Qin Jianhe wrapped his arms around Ye Zhiqiu’s neck from behind and leaned in to look with him.

“You have a keen eye for fashion trends,” he said with a slight smile. “The way you combine classics with contemporary trends is almost seamless.”

Being in the industry, one glance told Qin Jianhe this dress would be a huge hit this summer.
Not only a hit, but it would likely spark a wave of imitation across brands.

Giving such designs to Qiyun was truly a waste.

But he said nothing, because it was Ye Zhiqiu’s decision.

“Let’s eat,” he said.

“Okay.” Ye Zhiqiu stood up and stretched.

He had been on the go all day, then had an intense working session with Zhang Mian at the restaurant. Now that he was finally relaxing, he felt a hint of fatigue.

“What did you make?” Ye Zhiqiu asked, yawning. His lashes instantly grew wet.

Qin Jianhe looked at him, his eyes unconsciously darkening.

“Lamb soup,” he said. “Will you like it?”

“Yeah.” Ye Zhiqiu nodded, blinking away the moisture in his eyes. “I’ll help you bring the bowls.”

“Okay.” Qin Jianhe responded quietly, ruffling Ye Zhiqiu’s hair.

A plate of braised chicken feet, two bowls of lamb soup—Qin Jianhe liked his plain, while Ye Zhiqiu added pepper and vinegar—and a plate of cold sliced beef.

“Taste it,” Qin Jianhe said with a smile. “Whose is better, mine or yours?”

Ye Zhiqiu nodded, picked up a slice of beef, and put it in his mouth.
He chewed slowly for a moment, then his eyes curved in a smile. “Not as good as mine.”

Then he paused, a little worried that Qin Jianhe might ask how he learned to cook so well.

But Qin Jianhe asked nothing, just smiled faintly.
“Next time, you can teach me,” he said.

Ye Zhiqiu looked at him, then his eyes curved slightly. “Okay.”

They sat across from each other and ate in silence.

After the meal, Ye Zhiqiu reached for the dishes, but Qin Jianhe caught his wrist.

“I’ll do it,” he said, then smiled at Ye Zhiqiu. “If you’re tired, go to bed. I’ll be there after I clean up.”

Ye Zhiqiu: “…”

It felt oddly like an old married couple, yet very harmonious.

He pressed his lips together and looked at his laptop, temporarily relegated to the sofa. “I’ll wait for you.”

Now it sounded even more like an old married couple.

“Okay,” Qin Jianhe said, the smile in his eyes deepening.

Ye Zhiqiu said, “I’ll work a bit more.”

“Mm,” Qin Jianhe responded.

He said he would work more, but sitting in front of the computer, he couldn’t concentrate.
The sound of water from the kitchen drifted over. Ye Zhiqiu was quiet for a moment, then closed his laptop.

That night, they showered separately. Ye Zhiqiu used the master bathroom, Qin Jianhe the guest one.

Ye Zhiqiu was slow. When he came out, Qin Jianhe was already leaning against the headboard with his tablet, working.

Seeing him emerge, Qin Jianhe put down the tablet and lifted the covers for him.

Ye Zhiqiu climbed into bed, lay on his pillow, and then instinctively turned on his side to look up at Qin Jianhe.

His eyes were large and bright, still carrying moisture from the bathroom. Looking up like that, he resembled an adorable kitten.

Qin Jianhe’s heart skipped a beat. He wanted to lean down and kiss him, but he didn’t.
He raised his hand and covered Ye Zhiqiu’s eyes.

It was as if one more second of looking into those eyes would make him break his word.

He had been the one to suggest not doing anything tonight.

Not just so Ye Zhiqiu could enjoy a comfortable meal, but also as a form of slow, patient struggle.

A struggle between him and Ye Zhiqiu.

Once would lead to twice. He wanted Ye Zhiqiu to get used to simply falling asleep in each other’s arms.
Not just for the s*x.

Under his palm, Ye Zhiqiu’s lashes fluttered, tickling him.
Then, the corner of his mouth curved up. “Not sleeping?”

“Sleeping,” Qin Jianhe said. “Just replying to an email.”

“Mm.” Ye Zhiqiu responded softly, moved closer to him, and closed his eyes.

Qin Jianhe raised his hand again and saw Ye Zhiqiu’s lashes flutter.
He reached over and turned off the main light.

He finished the half-written email, hit send, then pulled Ye Zhiqiu into his arms.
He kissed his forehead and the tip of his nose, softly saying goodnight.

“Good night, Ye Zhiqiu.”

Ye Zhiqiu slowly opened his eyes, his voice thick with drowsiness. “Good night, Qin Jianhe.”

As he spoke, he burrowed closer to him.
Only after finding a more comfortable position did he close his eyes again.

A moment later, Qin Jianhe heard him mumble, half-asleep.

“Sleeping like this is pretty comfortable.”

Like this?
Two people doing nothing but holding each other tight?

Instinctively, the smile in Qin Jianhe’s dark eyes deepened.
He lowered his head and kissed Ye Zhiqiu’s soft hair again.

“Good night, Ye Zhiqiu,” he said.

****

That night, Ye Zhiqiu slept especially deeply.
When he opened his eyes again, faint morning light had already appeared.

He wanted to turn over, but Qin Jianhe’s arm around his waist was like a cage, holding him tight, unable to move.

Sensing him stir, Qin Jianhe’s thick lashes fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes.

Those dark eyes rarely showed a hint of confusion, then slowly focused on Ye Zhiqiu’s face.

“Awake?” he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

“Yeah.” Ye Zhiqiu checked the time. It was just past five. “If you’re still tired, sleep a bit more?”

Qin Jianhe shook his head, just looking down at him.

“It’s still early,” Ye Zhiqiu said tentatively, moving his hand lower. “Do you want to…”

But his hand was caught before it reached its destination. Qin Jianhe’s voice was thick with amusement.

“No,” he said.

Ye Zhiqiu tried to hold back, but because he couldn’t help laughing, his expression was funny.

Qin Jianhe leaned down, kissed the tip of his nose, then also smiled and checked the time.

“It’s almost time,” he said, unable to resist pulling Ye Zhiqiu fully into his arms and tightening his grip. “A little longer.”

“Got something planned?” Ye Zhiqiu asked.

“Yeah.” Qin Jianhe smiled. “I ordered some fresh ingredients. They should be here soon.”

“Oh~” Ye Zhiqiu looked outside at the still-dark sky, lowering his voice unconsciously. “Actually, if I don’t have anything to do during the day, I could go to the supermarket.”

“No need.” Qin Jianhe rested his forehead against Ye Zhiqiu’s. “Some farmers up in the mountains raise chickens and ducks, catch wild fish. You can’t buy them in the supermarket.”
“And,” he paused, “this is almost their only source of income.”

“Oh, I see.” Ye Zhiqiu blinked, unable to resist looking at Qin Jianhe again.

If you just looked at his appearance and demeanor, Qin Jianhe seemed very cold and unapproachable.
But spend enough time with him, and you quickly discovered he had a very soft side.

“Do they deliver often?” Ye Zhiqiu asked. “When I’m living on my own, maybe I can order with you.”

“The neighbors often order together, usually once a week,” Qin Jianhe said, looking down at him. “Whatever you want, I’ll order it for you.”

Just then, Qin Jianhe’s phone vibrated slightly.
He glanced at it and sat up.
“They’re here, left at the guardhouse,” he said. “I’ll go get it. You sleep a bit more.”

Ye Zhiqiu nodded, looking up at him.

It was that look again.

Qin Jianhe smiled, ruffled his hair, and looked away.

After Qin Jianhe left, Ye Zhiqiu couldn’t fall back asleep.
He got up, changed, and went back to the living room, opening his laptop to continue his unfinished work.

Qin Jianhe soon returned with the groceries, and the apartment quickly became lively.

The kitchen was bustling, but Ye Zhiqiu didn’t find it noisy. On the contrary, his heart felt unusually calm, and he worked quickly and well.

When he put down the final stroke, he looked toward the kitchen.

The range hood noise stopped, the kitchen door opened, and a rich, spicy aroma hit him.
The smell alone was enough to make his mouth water.

Ye Zhiqiu immediately stood up and saw Qin Jianhe emerge carrying a large, deep platter, its contents a vibrant red. The fragrance of the steamed fish head with chopped chili assaulted his nose.

“Wow,” Ye Zhiqiu said, exaggerating. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

Ye Zhiqiu could also cook many dishes, but not the ones he himself liked.
Because in his past life, Qi Xin avoided anything spicy. Although he cooked every day, most of it was what Qi Xin liked.

Having spent years in the kitchen, he had grown to hate it.
So if Qi Xin wasn’t home, he would rather order takeout or eat instant noodles than cook for himself again.

Qin Jianhe was amused by his exaggerated tone. He looked up and met his sparkling eyes.

Ye Zhiqiu’s eyes were curved, all his attention focused on the platter in Qin Jianhe’s hands.

“Taste it,” Qin Jianhe said, placing the platter on the table. He seemed a little excited himself.

He picked up a piece of fish with his chopsticks, blew on it, and smiled as he brought it to Ye Zhiqiu’s lips.

Ye Zhiqiu opened his mouth and ate it naturally.

“This is so good, Qin Jianhe,” Ye Zhiqiu said.

“You eat first,” Qin Jianhe said. “I’ll bring the rest.”

There was still chicken soup in the kitchen, freshly baked sweet potatoes in the oven, and steaming white rice in the rice cooker…

Ye Zhiqiu went over, and with four hands, they quickly moved all the food to the table.

Ye Zhiqiu drank half a bowl of chicken soup first, then seriously picking up his rice and started on the fish head.

Qin Jianhe’s cooking was excellent. The fish head was authentic and flavorful. His eyes curved, and he couldn’t help sighing.

“I’m so happy, Qin Jianhe.”

Before he finished speaking, his phone rang.

It was an unfamiliar number, but looking at it, Ye Zhiqiu felt it was strangely familiar.

He answered. An older man’s voice came through.

“Xiao Ye, right?” the person asked.

He recognized it immediately: Qi Xin’s father, Qi Ruichang.

“I’m Qi Xin’s father,” Qi Ruichang said.

Qi Ruichang was short-sighted and snobbish, always carrying a smile while hiding a knife. He was the type Ye Zhiqiu hated most.
In his past life, it was he who first connected with Tao Ruoqing, leading to everything that followed.

He knew his son truly liked Jiang Nan and coveted the Jiang family’s status and influence. So after Ye Zhiqiu’s usefulness had been exhausted, he had begun to endlessly belittle him.
And in bringing Jiang Nan and Qi Xin together, he had been relentless.

Hearing his voice, Ye Zhiqiu couldn’t help cursing inwardly.

He was trying to enjoy his meal. Why was this creep calling him?
Had Qi Xin died?

“Hello,” he said, his voice cold and distant. “Is something wrong?”

Qi Ruichang was taken aback.
Ye Zhiqiu was so fond of his son, yet he was so cold to him.

He adjusted his attitude slightly.

“Qi Xin is sick, with a high fever. He keeps calling your name. Do you think,” he asked, “you could come see him, take care of him?”

Ye Zhiqiu laughed, a hint of mockery in his tone. “He’s an adult. Is he such a baby when he’s sick?”
He laughed again. “It’s not like it’s a terminal illness. Can’t you take care of him yourself?”

Ye Zhiqiu’s words were harsh.
In just two sentences, he had perfectly displayed his spoiled, willful, and ill-mannered nature.
Qi Ruichang was momentarily speechless.

He could try to act superior and scold him, but his son hadn’t secured him yet.
And, most importantly, they had just begun to taste the benefits of Ye Zhiqiu’s remarkable design skills.
They were the ones who needed him.

But saying nothing made him feel stifled.

Qi Xin was his only son, lying in the hospital with a fever over 39 degrees Celsius, and Ye Zhiqiu had to bring up “terminal illness.” It was disgustingly unlucky.

“He’s just thinking about you,” Qi Ruichang finally managed, forcing a laugh.

“You take care of him for now,” Ye Zhiqiu said. “I have plans to meet someone today. If I have time later, I’ll go see him.”

He hung up without waiting for Qi Ruichang to respond.

He looked up and met Qin Jianhe’s smiling dark eyes.

“Ye Zhiqiu, you’re quite fierce,” Qin Jianhe said.

“Scared?” Ye Zhiqiu raised an eyebrow, taking it as a compliment.

“We need a fierce beast to guard the house,” Qin Jianhe said.

“Who are you calling a beast?” Ye Zhiqiu laughed, unable to hold back, and kicked Qin Jianhe under the table.

Qin Jianhe didn’t answer, instead asking with a smile, “What did you say before you answered the phone?”

Ye Zhiqiu picked up his soup bowl and took a couple more sips, then ate a few more bites of food. The soft-centered roasted sweet potato had cooled down. He took a bite.

He paused for a moment, then smiled at Qin Jianhe.

“I said,” he said, “Qin Jianhe, I’m so happy.”

Qin Jianhe looked at him, the smile in his eyes very deep.
He used the serving chopsticks to put food on Ye Zhiqiu’s small plate.
“Happiness isn’t actually that extravagant,” he said, smiling as he lowered his eyes. “As long as you want it, I have everything here.”