“This ointment is very effective for treating bruises and sprains, and it also has a calming, soothing effect.” The shop assistant took out a small box. Chi Zhan read the instructions carefully and decided to buy it.
Back at the office, he went upstairs and knocked on the door before pushing it open. Inside, the office looked like it had been ravaged by a violent storm—papers and belongings scattered everywhere.
Chi Zhan froze mid-step.
What on earth happened here?
He’d been gone less than half an hour—did Zhou Yanxing get into another fight before he left?
The office was empty. Confused, Chi Zhan asked around; his colleagues said Zhou—the General Manager—had already left. Their tone was completely normal; there was no hint of a violent incident.
It was baffling.
Normally, Zhou stayed in the office after work. Tonight he left early—but Chi Zhan remembered the cut on his face and knew it wouldn’t heal quickly. They were running a legitimate business; it’s not professional to meet clients with bruises all over one’s face.
But Zhou was gone. Since he couldn’t call him back, Chi Zhan left Zhou’s share of the ointment on his desk and jotted a note reminding him to apply it daily.
The other tube was intended for Seven.
Chen Che had texted Chi Zhan the current address, which wasn’t far from the office. When Chi Zhan arrived, Chen Che was pacing outside, chewing on a blade of dog-tail grass. On seeing Chi Zhan, his eyes lit up.
“Secretary Chi, are you here to see Captain Qi?”
Chi Zhan nodded and noticed Chen Che’s awkward expression. He asked, “Is now inconvenient?”
“No, not inconvenient—but there’s a little problem,” Chen Che scratched his head, voice evasive. “Captain Qi isn’t in his room right now. He might be back later. Secretary Chi, I can take you to his door and you can wait?”
Chi Zhan paused.
“He’s not in the room? I actually came to deliver—”
Before Chi Zhan could finish, Chen Che gently pushed him into the hotel.
“Ah, save it till he’s back. He’ll be back soon, I guarantee it!”
Once at Captain Qi’s door, Chen Che handed Chi Zhan the room key card and said sincerely, “Secretary Chi, I won’t go in with you. Captain Qi never lets anyone else in; if you go in, you’ll get in serious trouble.”
“In that case, I won’t go in. Can you please pass the ointment along?”
He remembered that when he first met Qi Song, Chen Che had emphasized that Qi Song was a neat freak—he never allowed outsiders into his room.
“Why are you being so formal? Secretary Chi, you’re Captain Qi’s boyfriend—why wouldn’t you be allowed in? If you can’t go in, nobody can.”
Mid-sentence, Chen Che realized he’d let something slip.
Everyone at the team quietly knew Chi Zhan was Qi Song’s boyfriend. Since Qi Song hadn’t publicly confirmed it, everyone quietly pretended not to know. But Chen Che was baffled—if Qi Song had a boyfriend, he’d surely tell the team right away. Why was he keeping this secret?
There had to be more to the story.
Chi Zhan stood still.
“How did you know that…?”
Chen Che stammered.
“Uh—ah, that’s not important! Secretary Chi, please go in.”
Chi Zhan had only come to deliver something. He hadn’t expected Chen Che’s warm insistence. Unable to refuse, he swiped the key card.
“Then I’ll wait a bit. I hope I’m not bothering him?”
“Not at all.” Chen Che, thinking to himself, Of course not—he literally left the room card ready for Secretary Chi. He’d been waiting for him.
Earlier, Chen Che had called Qi Song to tell him Secretary Chi would be coming, and asked when he’d be back. Qi Song’s tone was cool and distant, and he’d replied with three icy words: “Busy right now.”
Which meant he wouldn’t return any time soon.
The tone hadn’t been like usual.
Whenever Qi Song mentioned Chi Zhan in normal conversation, his voice became gentle and warm. But now—it was cold, emotionless, as if he’d lost all feeling.
They must be upset with each other.
Chen Che, who enjoyed watching drama unfold, was literally over the moon, cheerfully saying, “If he can’t come back tonight, I’ll take Secretary Chi out to have fun. Province A is big—Chi Zhan can show me around.”
On the other end of the line, Qi Song stayed silent for a moment, then warned Chen Che.
“It’s late—don’t let him wander around. The room card is with Wen An.”
It’s only 7 p.m.—how is that late? The night is just getting started. Only Qi Song would call it late.
“But what if Secretary Chi doesn’t want to stay? I can’t force him, right?”
“Let him do as he pleases.”
“Let him” indeed.
If Secretary Chi really left, Qi Song wouldn’t even have time to cry—this was all bluster. Besides, he hadn’t said anything more, and he gave the card to Wen An in advance—wasn’t that just in case Chi Zhan came and then left?
Chi Zhan didn’t know any of these twists. Chen Che said, “I’ll be right next door if you need me,” and kindly closed the door.
The room faced the rising sun, with large windows that looked out on rolling distant hills. With no tall buildings blocking the light, sunlight poured in unabashedly. Even in the evening, the lingering twilight washed the room in a warm, gentle glow. Inside, it was immaculate: a computer sat on the desk, the bed was perfectly made, the duvet folded like a neat tofu block—as if no one had ever occupied it.
Exactly Qi Song’s style.
Chi Zhan looked around, playing a mental game of “spot the differences.” In this lifeless hotel room, he searched for anything that belonged to Qi Song.
To no avail—aside from a black suitcase in the corner, there was nothing. It was clearly a grab-and-go setup.
But the room still bore traces of Qi Song’s life:
His scent.
