Sleep on Your Own

Gu Shang had gone to the office, but his heart had stayed behind in Ji Mingzhu's room.

Perhaps because this was the first time President Gu had done something so sneaky, he just couldn't feel at ease.

Whenever President Gu wanted to put someone in their place, he had always done it openly. He never cared whether they could take it, either. If someone deserved to be humiliated, he would do it to their face without mercy.

This was the first time he had resorted to such a roundabout method to get what he wanted.

And so, all afternoon, Gu Shang kept glancing at the silent phone on his desk.

The longer it stayed quiet, the more restless he became.

That clingy little Ji Mingzhu... there was no way he could be this quiet. Had he not noticed yet?

What was Ji Mingzhu doing at home? With his lazy little piglet ways, shouldn't he have gone back to his room for a rest after eating his watermelon? Or to try on the clothes he hadn't finished trying? Wasn't that what he should be doing?

After turning it over in his mind, Gu Shang couldn't help putting down his documents and picking up his phone to check.

"...Tsk."

There really were no messages from Ji Mingzhu.

What was going on? Had Ji Mingzhu added him just for decoration?

If he was going to put on an act, he should at least show some professionalism! With acting like this... perhaps he should sign Ji Mingzhu up for acting classes.

In fact, Ji Mingzhu really hadn't noticed.

After finishing his watermelon, he had helped Uncle Chen clear the table, then helped the other staff sort out his new clothes, sending those that needed dry-cleaning to be cleaned and ironing those that needed pressing.

The steaming iron alone had kept Ji Mingzhu entertained for quite a while.

There were so many wondrous things here. So this was another way to deal with creased clothes.

Ji Mingzhu curiously examined the iron before it was plugged in and asked, "Could I use this to press the collar of Gu Shang's shirt, too?"

The servant replied respectfully, "Certainly, madam."

Ji Mingzhu smiled a little shyly. "You can just call me Mingzhu. Could you bring me that slightly wrinkled shirt of his so I can iron it? I was the one who wrinkled it, so I'll smooth it out myself and give my husband a surprise."

To avoid scorching Gu Shang's expensive shirt with his inexperienced hands, Ji Mingzhu practiced on his own clothes first. Only once he got the hang of it did he iron Gu Shang's collar.

Afterward, he carefully looked over the timetable Uncle Chen had brought him for the next day.

Ji Mingzhu would be taking art classes in sketching tomorrow. There were two lessons, each an hour and a half long, with a twenty-minute break between them.

Ji Mingzhu stared blankly at the timetable with wide eyes.

He recognized every word printed in black on the white paper, but put together, they made no sense to him.

Oh no. Can I really manage these classes? Ji Mingzhu wondered, feeling a little unsure of himself.

Fortunately, Uncle Chen had not only brought him his timetable but also prepared the supplies and basic supplementary books he might need for class.

There was no textbook for sketching, but there were plenty of beginner's guides on the market. Since Ji Mingzhu had never studied it before and would be starting straight off with relatively difficult lessons under a teacher, Uncle Chen worried he wouldn't be able to keep up. He had therefore prepared a very thorough selection of supplies, perfectly illustrating the saying, "The worse the student, the more stationery they have."

Ji Mingzhu looked through his supplies: a whole pile of sharply pointed pencils in different thicknesses, a tiny eraser that cost more than an entire big watermelon, a professional-looking easel, and more.

After going through everything, Ji Mingzhu more or less understood. So sketching was drawing.

It was just a little different from how things were done back home. All the pencils here were hard; they didn't even use brushes.

Damn it. If this were a contest in traditional painting, I wouldn't lose to anyone.

Ji Mingzhu had been brought up under strict discipline, and his artistic accomplishments were renowned throughout the land. Despite his youth, he already enjoyed a considerable reputation for his talents. Whenever foreign envoys visited and requested a contest of artistic skill, Ji Mingzhu was always the one sent out, and he brought Great Ning honor every time.

Ji Mingzhu didn't want to disgrace his husband just because he had moved to another era. So he quietly took a pencil, pulled out a sheet of fine white paper that clung lightly to his hand, and found a corner to practice his handwriting.

At the very least, he needed to make his handwriting presentable.

After all, every painting needed a signature. He didn't have a seal of his own yet, so he might have to write his name.

Ji Mingzhu gave it a try, but his hand simply refused to obey. His handwriting looked like a dog had crawled across the page; even the structure of the characters fell apart.

Ji Mingzhu: "..."

How could someone who had been a good student all his life endure such humiliation?

And so Ji Mingzhu practiced all afternoon, until the sun sank toward the western hills and the front door sounded. He had practiced right up until his husband came home.

Delighted, Ji Mingzhu put down his pencil and stealthily tucked away the sheets covered in his chicken scratch, then sidled up to him like a clingy little rice cake. "Hubby, you're home~"

The young man said happily, "Are you tired from work, hubby? Come sit down and rest for a bit. Let's chat. I missed you so much~"

Gu Shang: "..."

Keeping a straight face, the man gave a soft chuckle. "Really?"

Ji Mingzhu blinked innocently. "Really."

Somehow, his husband seemed a little strange today.

The young man obediently took the man's hand and said gently, "Hubby, I was really good at home today. Honestly. Once you go back to your room and see, you'll definitely praise me."

He had ironed the shirt he had wrinkled with his grip last time!

Now it looked just like new, lying on Gu Shang's bed where he would see it at a glance!

The man paused.

He had also prepared a surprise for Ji Mingzhu in his room. From the looks of it, had he really not discovered it yet?

"Ji Mingzhu."

"Hmm?"

The young man looked up at him, his clear eyes unguarded and full of trust.

Gu Shang couldn't resist gently pinching the young man's soft, fair cheek, as delicate as milk skin, then scratching his little chin as though teasing a cat. "Haven't you noticed there's something new in your bedroom, too?"