Chapter 6
The next morning, I was woken up by a stomachache. My head was pounding from the hangover, and now with my period on top of it, I felt completely drained, as if my energy had been sucked dry.
With dark circles under my eyes and a wild, messy head of hair, I clutched my stomach and shuffled step by step out of the bedroom.
The moment I entered the living room, I was surprised to find Jiang Cheng fiddling with breakfast. The key point was, he was only wearing pants, his upper body completely bare.
The morning sunlight poured over him, casting a sheen over his honey-colored skin, highlighting his defined abs and the V-cut of his lower abdomen.
Ugh, shameless!
I paused, my not-quite-awake head reeling, and when I realized what I was seeing, my face grew a little hot:
“Jiang Cheng, have you no shame? Are you an exhibitionist or what… why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”
He turned at the sound of my voice, frowning slightly:
“You wiped your nose with my tie, threw up all over my shirt when we got back, so what the hell am I supposed to wear?
“Should I be thanking you for at least leaving me a pair of pants?”
Me: …
“Heh… No need to thank me…”
Knowing I was in the wrong, I clutched my stomach and went to the bathroom. After changing my pad and freshening up, I came out with a pale face and sat down at the dining table.
Jiang Cheng had cooked porridge, fried two eggs, and sliced two sandwiches.
“You know how to cook?” I asked curiously.
He served a bowl of preserved egg and pork congee, placing it in front of me.
“Back when I was abroad, it was fish and chips every single day.”
Oh right. After graduating from university, for some reason Jiang Cheng, a notorious slacker, suddenly went abroad for a master’s degree. Supposedly, his grades were actually pretty good.
He handed me a piece of fried egg, adding,
“If I didn’t cook for myself, I’d be as flat as you.”
“Who are you calling flat?”
I protested angrily, hands on my hips, puffing out my chest in defiance.
He rubbed his temples and said lazily, “Oh, but wasn’t it just yesterday that someone was wailing about not having a chest?”
I froze, and fragments from last night after drinking too much started flooding back.
Damn it, I should never have drunk with this jerk Jiang Cheng.
Just another thing for him to tease me about.
I buried my head, grumpily shoveling food into my mouth, ignoring him. The preserved egg porridge was rich and flavorful, warming my stomach and easing the pain quite a bit.
“Is it good?”
“Not good.”
“If it’s not good, don’t eat it.”
“I will. It’s my rice.”
I kept my head down, eating, but out of the corner of my eye, I sneaked a peek at Jiang Cheng’s bare upper body, only to meet his gaze by chance.
He wore a teasing smile, looking utterly annoying:
“If you want to look, just look openly. What’s the point of sneaking glances?”
With that, he slouched lazily in the chair, stretching his long legs.
“Gu Xiaoqiao, did you base all those overbearing CEO characters in your novels on me? Broad shoulders, narrow waist, tall, long legs, successful career…”
I shot him a disdainful look and couldn’t help but retort:
“Ever seen an overbearing CEO this chatty?”
I took a vicious bite of the sandwich.
“I’m just curious, how are you planning to go out looking like that in a bit?”
The smile faded from his lips, and he answered irritably:
“My assistant will bring me some clothes soon.”
Jiang Cheng’s assistant was efficient-she arrived with several shopping bags before he even finished speaking.
He changed into a brand new black shirt and a new tie. Without opening his mouth, he actually did have a bit of that CEO aura.
Then he took a box from a clear bag-Yimucao granules, for menstrual pain relief.
He tore open a packet, poured it into a glass, added hot water, and handed it to me:
“Drink up.”
I took it, grumbling, “How did you know…”
He snapped, “Look at your face, pale as a ghost.”
Just as I was starting to feel a bit touched, he killed the mood with one sentence. Furious, I glared at him:
“Jiang Cheng, you’re so annoying!”
“No big chest, but a big temper,” he added nonchalantly.
Me: …
“Aaaah, Jiang Cheng, you bastard, wait until I recover-I’ll kill you!”
I rained a storm of punches and kicks on him, but Jiang Cheng pinned me down with one hand, a wicked grin on his face:
“Kill me? Then… should I give this to someone else?”
He was holding an orange shopping bag.
My eyes lit up instantly, my nose catching the scent of money.
“Hehe… I might’ve raised my voice just now.”
I quickly put on a sycophantic smile and flattered him:
“Boss Jiang, the real CEO, rich and handsome, number one in the world.”
Jiang Cheng snorted coldly and tossed the bag to me.
I opened it to find a limited edition, in my favorite purple-utterly satisfying.
Last time, I had offhandedly mentioned to him how Xie Chuan used to scrimp and save to buy me a high-quality knockoff Louis Vuitton, and after Jiang Cheng had ruthlessly mocked me for it, the very next day he ordered a Hermès.
Although Jiang Cheng often drives me mad, he hasn’t forgotten that old saying, “If we rise to wealth, let’s not forget each other.” To be fair, he does act like a decent human being sometimes.
I make a bit of money writing novels now, but a Hermès is still something I can’t bring myself to buy, unlike this capitalist with money to burn.
With my new bag on my arm, even my stomachache vanished instantly.
Jiang Cheng looked at me speechlessly, “Gu Xiaoqiao, I should really take a picture of your face right now.”
Me: “Not listening, not listening, la la la-”
He checked his watch, then ruffled my hair like petting a dog:
“I’m off. If you’re still tired, get some more sleep.”
He paused, then added:
“Don’t drink cold water. If you’re not coming home for lunch, get the restaurant to deliver.”
I smoothed my hair. “Yeah, yeah, I know, you nag.”
“Tsk, Gu Xiaoqiao, finish eating and the first thing you do is complain about the chef.”
“Bleh bleh bleh~”