In the CEO's office, of course, nothing inappropriate like "to catch a man's heart, you must catch his dick" happened.
A lavish lunch was already arranged on the low table in front of the sofa. Qiu Qiu, holding a ladle in one hand and a soup bowl in the other, was serving soup from the thermal pot. He had simmered this pork tripe soup for a full six hours; the broth was clear yet rich, fragrant and delicious. He first ladled half a bowl of the clear soup, then, showing favoritism, scooped a large portion of the good ingredients into the bowl.
Since Fu Ruien's stomach issues weren't fully recovered yet, the dishes on the table were mostly light. Fu Ruien preferred stronger flavors and found such food rather bland, but he drank several bowls of the soup Qiu Qiu made.
Qiu Qiu usually ate at the cafeteria, occasionally going to restaurants with Da Xiong for hot pot, grilled fish, or spicy hot pot. Eating light once in a while felt quite novel. He ended up eating most of the food on the table, his belly stretched round as he sprawled on the sofa, groaning softly.
The more he lay there, the more uncomfortable he felt, so Qiu Qiu started pacing around the office to aid his digestion.
Fu Ruien's office was enormous, probably more spacious than an average family's apartment. One wall was lined with the company's honorary trophies and awards, while the opposite wall featured a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf.
In front of the floor-to-ceiling glass curtain wall stood a substantial executive desk and chair. Important documents were piled in front of the computer, alongside potted plants meant to absorb radiation. The room was filled with greenery, meticulously cared for by specialists, thriving with lush branches and leaves.
Qiu Qiu liked flowers and plants, but his family had no luck with them. Back in elementary school, vendors outside sold a two-yuan plant called "unkillable"—a type of perennial succulent, drought and water-resistant, incredibly tenacious. Teacher Dong bought one pot, but they all ended up dying.
Elementary school had a "Nature" class to cultivate children's hands-on skills. The teacher required each student to keep an observation diary for a month, which could be about a small flower, plant, or animal—essentially, they had to personally "raise" something.
Hearing this, Fu Ruien asked with interest, "So what did you raise?"
"My dad tossed me a rock and told me to water it every day."
"..."
Qiu Qiu said enthusiastically, "And in the end, moss actually grew on it!"
... Fu Ruien really wished he could travel back ten years. Such an easily fooled child should, of course, only be led astray by him alone.
Fu Ruien's residence was already on a high floor, but his office was even higher. Qiu Qiu was a bit scared at first, but after adjusting to the height, he cautiously moved to the glass curtain wall, pressed against the glass, and gazed down at the bustling crowd below, gradually becoming entranced.
At some point, Fu Ruien had walked up behind Qiu Qiu. He leaned forward slightly, letting his upper body inch closer until it pressed snugly against Qiu Qiu's back. His movements were slow and gentle, devoid of any aggression. Two warm bodies gradually fit together as if there had never been any distance between them.
Completely unaware of the danger, Qiu Qiu didn't notice his rear was compromised. His hands rested on the glass wall as he was still counting the cars passing by downstairs.
Fu Ruien's left hand rested lightly on his precious "son's" waist, while his right hand covered the back of Qiu Qiu's hand. His fingers parted Qiu Qiu's, intertwining with them as they both pressed against the cool glass wall.
Qiu Qiu's soft, small earlobe happened to be right by Fu Ruien's mouth. Fu Ruien blew a gentle breath on it, watching as it gradually turned red. Lowering his voice, he hinted suggestively, "Qiu Qiu, did you know? This glass wall has a special coating on the outside. Even if we press against the glass like this, people outside can't see a thing."
The atmosphere was just right. If they were to do something shameless in front of this glass wall, who would ever know?
Unfortunately, Qiu Qiu completely missed his implication. Instead, he gave a startled jump, turned his head, and said anxiously, "Then, Godfather, you should stay away from the window! What if some little helicopter malfunctions, thinks no one is on this floor, and crashes right in?"
"... Silly child, you should watch fewer disaster movies from now on."
With the atmosphere thoroughly ruined, Fu Ruien helplessly let go of Qiu Qiu and called someone in to clear away the leftovers from the table.
With nothing to do, Qiu Qiu wandered around the room for a while with his hands clasped behind his back, like an inspector on a tour. Bored, he simply picked up his guitar, leaned against the executive desk, and began singing for Fu Ruien.
His fingertips swept across the strings, and a cheerful melody flowed out. Qiu Qiu hummed along with the music, singing of youthful sentiments, of spring, summer, autumn, and winter. This song was one Qiu Qiu had written himself—both lyrics and composition. The lyrics were catchy, and the tune was light and delightful.
The two cleaning ladies who came in to tidy up couldn't help but slow their movements, unconsciously swaying their heads to the rhythm of the music. Only when the song ended did they seem to snap out of it, quickly bending down to clean the table and floor before hastily leaving the office under the CEO's watchful gaze.
As soon as they stepped out, they were surrounded by the secretaries outside.
It was already past the lunch break. The secretaries who had gone out for lunch returned to learn that the CEO had a distinguished guest—a young man in a white shirt, tender as fresh grass, with eyes like stars, a mouth curved like a crescent moon, and dimples so deep and sweet when he smiled, utterly adorable.
At first, no one believed it, but when the cleaning ladies went in, the door wasn't shut tight. From the CEO's office, the faint sound of a young boy's singing drifted out, accompanied by the crisp strumming of a guitar. It was like a little hook, tickling the heart, making one feel on the verge of falling in love any second.
The secretaries crowded around the cleaning ladies, eager for details.
One cleaning lady said, "That young man is the boss's godson. So well-behaved! When we brought in fruit, he peeled it first and fed it to the boss. The boss ate a few bites, and then he ate the rest."
Another cleaning lady added, "Exactly. My grandson is only three, and he won't eat an apple his dad has taken a bite out of, saying it's dirty. This young man is much better, so filial and sensible."
The cleaning ladies, being older, naturally didn't think of the underlying implications. But the secretaries exchanged glances, thinking in unison—This isn't a godson; this is the boss's wife!
Everyone wanted to gossip more, but their supervisor, He Yu, sternly shooed them back to their cubicles to work.
The boss's previous flings had all been handled by him—amicable partings, kept tightly under wraps, not one allowed within a hundred meters of the company. Only Qiu Qiu had repeatedly broken the boss's rules: first sponsoring the talent show, then letting him move into the house... Even if the boss ordered him tomorrow to invest in an institute researching male childbirth, he wouldn't be surprised.
Hmm... maybe the boss and Young Master Qiu were researching male childbirth right now?
Thinking this, He Yu gazed sharply at the tightly shut door of the CEO's office.
In reality, they were all overthinking it. Inside the room, Qiu Qiu was properly reporting on his studies to his godfather.
Fu Ruien had keenly noticed that Qiu Qiu's practice time had increased recently. Though it was just a slight change, he still grasped the fluctuation in Qiu Qiu's heart.
Qiu Qiu had nothing to hide, so he recounted to his godfather what Professor Wang had told him earlier, adding his own thoughts: "...Actually, I also want to see how far I can go on this path of singing. Godfather, do you think I'm being greedy? A lot of people already like me, but I still want to be a star, to have even more people like me."
"Not at all. Everyone hopes to be appreciated." Fu Ruien held his hand, playing with it and kneading it repeatedly in his own palm. "The more people who like you, the happier I am. Because no matter how much they like you, none of them can get as close to you as I do."
As for exactly how close... Is -18 centimeters close enough?
If not, it can get even closer.
Qiu Qiu added proudly, "Besides, I'm so smart. If I settle down to pursue academics, it's never too late at any age. If I can't become a star, I can always get certifications and change careers."
Fu Ruien couldn't help but laugh. Who praises themselves like that? Only Qiu Qiu could say such bold things. Bringing up studies, he asked with concern, "Will the competition affect your schoolwork?"
Qiu Qiu thought about it: "Not much. I've already taken all my credits in advance. After this semester, I won't need to take any courses in my senior year. The national competition runs from summer vacation until the end of September, so I just happen to have the time."
"That's good. If my Qiu Qiu couldn't get first place in exams because of a talent show, your godfather would be heartbroken."
Qiu Qiu blushed from the praise: "I'm not as amazing as you say. How could I possibly get first place in every subject? There are even classes I almost failed."
Thinking of Qiu Qiu's usual diligent efforts, Fu Ruien really couldn't imagine any subject he wasn't good at. "Which class did you do poorly in?"
"Gym class." Qiu Qiu's face was full of worry. "When I was a freshman, I couldn't get a good class during course selection and ended up assigned to the football class. The course selection system was unforgiving, and I couldn't re-select, so I had to grit my teeth and practice with the other guys. By the end of the semester..."
"Could you carry the ball past people?"
"No, I got a hairline fracture." Qiu Qiu pointed aggrievedly at his left shin. "Later, the teacher took pity on me and gave me a 61." As he spoke, he even took off his shoe, pulled up his pant leg, and showed Fu Ruien his fair, slender, and thin calf.
So, for the next half hour, the handsome and kind-hearted Fu Ruien held Qiu Qiu's calf and domineeringly gave him a very long massage.
From the sole of his foot to his ankle, from his ankle to his knee, from his knee to the top of his thigh... Fu Ruien had somehow found a bottle of lotion, warmed it in his palms, and repeatedly kneaded and rubbed it into Qiu Qiu's leg.
Qiu Qiu was rubbed red all over. He had injured his left shin, so why was his godfather always massaging his right thigh...
