Turning Over a New Leaf

Wen Shuang was practically half-supported, half-carried into the car by Xuan Zhe.

With President Xuan looking so grim, Cao Nanyu did not dare let Yu Feng leave. He directly had the security guards detain him.

Yu Feng watched the sedan speed away, looking dazed for a moment.

It took Wen Shuang the entire drive to piece back together the brains Yu Feng's punch had scattered. Once he was a little clearer-headed, he realized his position with Xuan Zhe was far too intimate. More precisely, he was clinging to Xuan Zhe's arms. The big shot sat calmly, showing no sign that he was forcing him, and Wen Shuang was instantly embarrassed. He forced himself to pull away, only for Xuan Zhe to suddenly lower his head, one hand gripping his shoulder as he asked in a deep voice, "Feeling unwell again?"

He had actually been hurting the whole time. Wen Shuang was quite afraid of pain, but no one had ever asked him that before. Something in his heart sank, and he nodded as if possessed. "Mm."

"Lean on me and sleep for a while. We're almost there." Xuan Zhe glanced at the road ahead. His gaze was always steady, unshakable even by raging winds and torrential rain. Someone like him should not have ended up brokenhearted and desolate in the original novel, Wen Shuang thought.

Xuan Zhe had called ahead, so seeing the doctor was easy. By now, half of Wen Shuang's face had swollen up, and his speech was no longer as clear as before. The doctor first cleaned his mouth, then disinfected it and treated the swelling after confirming there were no cuts. Xuan Zhe waited outside. Just as he was about to make a call, he heard a scream. His brows twitched, and he immediately pushed open the door.

Wen Shuang looked ready to bolt for the door, but one of his arms was held down by the doctor, leaving him nowhere to run. The instant he saw Xuan Zhe, he stretched out a hand and whimpered in grievance. With half his swollen face smeared in medicinal oil, "a pitiful sight" was nowhere near enough to describe him.

Even Xuan Zhe could barely stand to look.

"Why are you making a fuss instead of applying the medicine properly?" Xuan Zhe asked in a deep voice.

"I'll go back... and recover... N-no rubbing..." Wen Shuang tried his best to make himself understood.

Xuan Zhe gave a soft snort, revealing the ugly face of a capitalist. "Go back and recover slowly?" As though he had not seen Wen Shuang nodding frantically, he continued, "What if you're not better before next week's recording? Will you cover the losses?"

The moment he said that, Wen Shuang fell silent. He slowly sat back down, closed his eyes, and waited for the doctor to plow across his face.

But seeing him like that made Xuan Zhe feel even more uncomfortable. After a few seconds of silence, President Xuan wiped his hands with an alcohol swab from nearby, then took the topical medicine.

The doctor suddenly felt extremely redundant. Seeing that President Xuan's technique was decent enough, he withdrew.

Wen Shuang caught the familiar scent and felt that the palm massaging his face this time was much gentler. When he opened his eyes, he saw Xuan Zhe's handsome face magnified before him. This man really was beautiful, with pitch-black eyes and thick lashes. He truly deserved to be the Ceiling of attractiveness in the original novel, flawless in every way. Wen Shuang became absorbed in looking at him, and the pain eased considerably. Even after the massage was over, the two of them maintained that strange yet tacitly harmonious position.

"Do I look good?" Xuan Zhe asked coldly.

Wen Shuang answered sincerely, "You do." There was no flattery or attempt to please him in it. It was simply like admiring a one-of-a-kind work of art, genuinely finding it beautiful from the bottom of his heart.

Xuan Zhe: "..."

"Tell me, why did you think of helping Yu Feng?" Xuan Zhe gently set the remaining medicine on the table. The ripples in his heart slowly spread. He had been nearby at the time and had heard what Yu Feng said. He knew Wen Shuang had persuaded Lei Wenxu and had even visited Yu Feng's mother.

Wen Shuang lightly pressed his burning cheek. After a moment, seeing Xuan Zhe still looking ready to listen, he sighed. "I have to... make up for something, right?" Otherwise, given this world's habit of targeting him, sooner or later he would be reduced to ashes.

Xuan Zhe smiled without really smiling. "Trying to be a good person now?"

"You can see it that way." Wen Shuang spoke softly. "I just thought that as long as someone is alive, they should always have one chance to turn over a new leaf."

Xuan Zhe nodded, though it was unclear whether he believed him. "Yu Feng is still being held at the company. Should we let him go, as you said?"

"Let him go." Wen Shuang did not hesitate. "I won't pursue anything against him." Compared to what the original owner had done to Yu Feng, one punch was nothing. Besides, didn't he have Xuan Zhe, this golden thigh? As long as he held on tight, everything would be fine!

Xuan Zhe made a call and gave the order, while Wen Shuang went for a full physical examination.

No one would believe it if he told them, but Wen Shuang had gotten a mild concussion from one punch. Looking at the examination report, Xuan Zhe did not know what to say. Call him fragile, and he would really start wheezing.

"Rest well, apply your medicine on time, and you'll recover in a week," the doctor instructed before they left.

Wen Shuang looked obedient and sensible, but in reality, he was planning to toss the medicine into the trash as soon as he could. It was not that he was being difficult; applying it really hurt, so much that he could not stop himself from crying. He could not use Xuan Zhe as a "painkiller" every single time, could he? Wen Shuang had calculated it. The swelling would go down in four or five days at most, and by then he could cover the marks with foundation. Perfect.

But the bag of medicine in his hand was suddenly snatched away. Wen Shuang turned his head and looked at Xuan Zhe in confusion.

Xuan Zhe weighed it in his hand, his tone light. "Thinking of throwing it away?"

Wen Shuang: "..." Did this man install a listening device in his brain?!

"I saved you again today," Xuan Zhe said to himself. "A drop of kindness should be repaid with a spring. Wen Shuang, you know what to do, right?"

Wen Shuang instantly understood and went along with it. "I'll bring you meals?"

"Mm." Xuan Zhe replied, "After you bring the meal, I'll personally watch you apply the medicine."

Wen Shuang: "..."

Thus, over the next few days, Cao Nanyu witnessed a particularly novel sight. Wen Shuang would enter carrying a lunch box, looking dusty and miserable, then come out with tears in his eyes. Through the crack in the door, Cao Nanyu could even glimpse President Xuan wiping his mouth with a tissue in apparent satisfaction...

Uh...

What exactly were they doing in there?!

Cao Nanyu was so anxious he scratched at his ears and cheeks, then went to the forum to join everyone in building the thread.

A few days ago, President Xuan had "played the hero and saved the beauty." That posture, that protectiveness—people on the forum had all been squealing, "I'm in!" Even the brothers who had previously thought President Xuan was merely indulging in a passing interest had temporarily switched sides, shouting that it was true love.

It seemed that aside from the two people involved, everyone in the company—whether sincere or simply eager for gossip—had joined in shipping the couple.

Today, Wen Shuang came to deliver lunch. He was wondering whether he should discuss it with President Xuan later. The marks were almost gone, so maybe he could skip the medicine. It only felt a little sore when pressed. But Cao Nanyu suddenly darted in front of him, his tone unusually serious. "Once you go in, don't speak unless you have to. Don't provoke President Xuan."

Wen Shuang froze. "President Xuan is in a bad mood?"

There were some things Cao Nanyu could not conveniently explain, so he only gave Wen Shuang's shoulder a push. "Just remember it."

Wen Shuang gave an "oh." Once inside, he found that Xuan Zhe's expression was indeed dark. The air around him was oppressive, as though it could squeeze all the oxygen from someone's lungs the next second.

"President Xuan." Wen Shuang gently set the lunch box on the desk. "I made your favorite sweet-and-sour pork today. I made extra, so would you like to try some?"

When Xuan Zhe was in a bad mood, he disliked hearing people make noise. Wen Shuang had arrived ten minutes early today; otherwise, Xuan Zhe had planned to message him not to come. Yet as Wen Shuang spoke in that quiet voice, the anger in Xuan Zhe's heart seemed to meet cold dew. Not only was it extinguished, but a faint coolness spread through him.

Xuan Zhe actually hoped he would say a little more.

"What else is there besides sweet-and-sour pork?" Xuan Zhe asked.

"Grilled fish!" Wen Shuang brought it out like he was presenting a treasure. It was a small sea bass, its skin drenched in sauce and sprinkled with chopped scallions, making it especially appetizing. "And stir-fried choy sum. I bought this choy sum after work last night, and it was the freshest. Please try it."

Xuan Zhe picked up his chopsticks and ate quietly. Someone had once said that good food could heal the soul. Xuan Zhe had thought that was an exaggeration, but at this moment, he truly did feel a little more relaxed.

Seeing him like this, Wen Shuang did not dare bring up skipping the medicine again. He moved in front of the mirror on his own and began baring his teeth and pulling faces.

Watching his many expressions, Xuan Zhe smiled silently.

At this moment, he finally believed that through all of this, Wen Shuang truly wanted to turn back.