Their faces were both quite unsightly, saying they looked as pale as death wouldn’t be an overstatent.
Jing Qiao had long grown accustod to the presence of bodyguards in and around the house, but seeing them so pale, she was sowhat taken aback.
Once she realized the situation, she understood.
Song Boyuan was holding a grudge; he still rembered how they let the Song Family relatives into the house.
Upon seeing Song Boyuan and Jing Qiao’s return, the two n’s posture beca even more submissive.
Song Boyuan, however, was quite calm. He glanced at them and said, "Haven’t you left yet?"
With gloomy faces, the two n pleaded, "Sir, please forgive us just this once."
"I’ve forgiven you," Song Boyuan said, his mood fairly good today. Although Song Xingping had greatly affected his mood, he couldn’t ignore that he had spent the day at the departnt store with Qiaoqiao, and she had stood up for him in front of Song Xingping.
Therefore, Song Boyuan was not planning on holding a grudge against them and waved them off, saying, "So you may leave."
But it was quite obvious that the two n didn’t intend to leave. The forgiveness they sought wasn’t rely Song Boyuan’s words alone; they wanted to continue working by his side.
Working alongside Song Boyuan ca with particularly good benefits. Although he was ill-tempered, he was genuinely generous, offering salaries and benefits that were unrivaled in the industry.
Perhaps so people are like that, the more money they receive, the greedier they beco, which is why they were bought off by those uncles. In hindsight, they had traded sothing trivial for a greater loss.
The two n remained standing in place, unmoving.
Song Boyuan saw they hadn’t moved and discerned their intent, "Don’t tell you think that after betraying , I’d still keep you by my side?"
The two n remained silent.
Seemingly inspired, one of them turned to Jing Qiao and said, "Madam, please forgive us once."
Jing Qiao didn’t speak and, after a mont of silence, she said, "Go back to the company’s security departnt for now. We’ll see how things can be arranged later."
The two sighed with relief, knowing their jobs were secure. Otherwise, given Song Boyuan’s temperant, they definitely couldn’t stay with the Song Family.
Seeing them breathe a sigh of relief, Jing Qiao said, "But if you want to continue working by Boyuan’s side like before, I think that’s unlikely. You don’t have any objections to that, do you?"
Certainly, in their hearts, they still hoped to remain by Song Boyuan’s side, but they also knew his temperant. If it weren’t for Jing Qiao’s intervention, they would have been fired outright. Now that they had kept their jobs, what more could they want?
So they nodded in agreent and took their leave, "No objections, no objections, thank you, Madam. We won’t disturb your and Sir’s rest."
After the duo left, Jing Qiao proceeded to the kitchen as if nothing had happened, to tidy up the stuff they had bought from the store.
Song Boyuan wanted to help, but she shooed him aside, asking him not to make a ss.
So he just leaned against the countertop, watching Jing Qiao organize.
Jing Qiao washed a plate of cherries for him to eat. Song Boyuan stuffed cherries into his mouth intermittently, and murmured in a low voice, "Why keep them? You’re just too soft-hearted."
"Yes, I am," Jing Qiao glanced at him, "You should be glad I am soft-hearted."
Song Boyuan suddenly found himself at a loss for words. After eating a few more cherries, he spoke softly, "Right. You’re correct."
Seeing him acquiesce so ekly, Jing Qiao curved the corners of her mouth, "I’m not that soft-hearted, really. They just didn’t push my buttons; it’s not worth making a fuss. Look how I am with Song Xingping, am I soft-hearted there?"
"Now that you ntion it, it seems true," Song Boyuan nodded.
Jing Qiao prepared a simple dinner, just three dishes and a soup, all ho-style food, but they were Song Boyuan’s favorites.
Not only that, she took a bottle of decent vintage wine from Song Boyuan’s cellar and decanted it in advance.
She poured a glass for both him and herself.
Sitting at opposite sides of the table, Jing Qiao raised her glass towards him.
"It’s been a long ti since we had a proper al together, hasn’t it?" Jing Qiao remarked.
"Mhm," Song Boyuan also lifted his glass as he looked across the table at her, "It’s been a while."
At the thought of such simple and unadorned warmth, his heart ached.
Noticing his eyes seed sowhat reddened, Jing Qiao didn’t intend to be too sentintal, so she reached out with her glass to clink with his, "Let’s start over."
"Okay," Song Boyuan was still a man of few words and not skilled at expressing himself, but he drank the wine in his glass in one go.
That night, Song Boyuan could no longer afford to neglect his work. He had too much piled up. The secretarial departnt, having grown accustod to his workhorse attitude, was nearly overwheld when he suddenly slacked off.
So that evening, Song Boyuan went to his study to work.
He wore a Bluetooth headset on his ear. On the computer, a video conference was in progress.
Each departnt reported their work thodically. On the screen, their Boss, still ticulous and cold as ever, showed no difference except his paler complexion and the conspicuous scar on his forehead.
Then, they noticed their Boss’s eyes seed off-focus, not fixed on the screen, and appeared... less icy?
All heard a slight disturbance, as if a door had been opened.
Then, on the video, a delicate, fair hand appeared in front of Song Boyuan, placing a dish of fruit before him.
In their eyes, Song Boyuan was a work machine, unsmiling and as if he didn’t need food—in fact, staff joked about whether he recharges with batteries or motor oil to keep working.
The video clip now completely overturned their long-held perception of him.
Not only did he look up and curve his lips slightly, but he began to eat the neatly cut fruit with a fruit fork.
Right there in the eting, in front of so many eyes behind the caras.
The virtual eting room went deathly silent, as though the network had frozen, even those reporting work stopped abruptly.
Jing Qiao, with a book in hand, nestled comfortably on the sofa next to the desk.
Only then did Song Boyuan look back at the computer screen, eting pair after pair of astonished eyes.
Yet he didn’t quickly revert his smile. The slight curl of his lips remained, and he continued to snack on fruit, his voice as indifferent as always, "Continue."
Jing Qiao, wrapped up in her reading on the couch, felt as if ti hadn’t drifted away, as if they had returned to their warst and most harmonious tis.
Suddenly, Jing Qiao understood what Su Lu ant in her words.
Because ti was too precious. The ti they missed was all too precious.
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