Chapter 14 His Daily Life
The upstairs area is a relatively private space. Even though Qin Qiao had wanted to go upstairs to observe the real Chen Jiashu, she eventually gave up the idea. She never expected that Chen Jiashu would invite her upstairs.
Qin Qiao stood outside the bedroom door, and before she could even raise her hand, Chen Jiashu's voice came from inside: "Come in." His voice was low and hoarse.
Pushing open the door, you enter the living room of the suite, where their wedding photos still hang on the south wall.
Their wedding photos were taken in Changhai City, more than 2,000 kilometers away.
There you'll find the bluest and most beautiful seawater in the country.
In the photo, she, wearing a white dress, and Chen Jiashu, dressed in a sharp suit, stand on the beach, each holding half a heart with their fingers, forming a heart shape. They smile brightly at the camera, a popular way of taking photos many years ago.
I thought I was calm and collected downstairs because it was my second visit, but now that I'm upstairs, I'm really feeling the turmoil. Everything is still untouched and related to her.
Even something as small as a doll ornament on a bookshelf partition.
She crocheted that little green woolen bunny herself—she's not very good with her hands, and even when she followed a video, she still managed to crochet a mess.
But Chen Jiashu still praised her generously, praising her to the skies.
“You don’t need to know about my daily life. How can you know if you’re sitting downstairs?” the man said from inside.
Qin Qiao paused for a moment, then slowly turned her gaze to the bedroom.
Chen Jiashu came out and stood at the junction of the bedroom and the living room, still wearing a white and blue pajama set, his long neck glistening in the light.
"I'll wait for you outside." Qin Qiao gripped her notebook tightly and turned to look at the sofa.
“Come in,” he said.
"Mr. Chen, you've misunderstood. We're filming your daily life; your home only takes up forty seconds of the entire film. We're not here to film your private life."
Qin Qiao ignored him and remained standing in place.
In a very businesslike tone, Chen Jiashu chuckled softly, his thick eyelashes drooping slightly: "Although I don't know much about filming, you once told me that a lot can be packed into forty seconds after editing."
Following the slender black figure, Chen Jiashu slowly approached her without a cane or a wall for support. The outline in his vision gradually changed from being only discernible in color to revealing its shape, until those clear black and white eyes shone brightly. He paused and stopped.
This is a distance from which I can easily reach out and hug her; it's all based on experience.
Qin Qiao frowned slightly: "Chairman Chen, do you have any instructions?"
The man was too tall. Many years ago, when she nestled in his arms, she felt safe and secure; unlike now, the oppressive feeling brought by his height was particularly heavy.
Chen Jiashu's starry eyes curved into a smile: "Could you please help me choose a suit, Anchor Qin? Oh, and today's board meeting also requires ties."
After saying that, he turned and left, not giving her a chance to refuse.
They were quite impolite. Qin Qiao's lips twitched slightly, but after thinking about it, she decided to give up and followed them inside.
Five deep fingerprints were clearly visible on the cover of the leather notebook left on the coffee table.
Qin Qiao turned left and walked into the dressing room. The familiar atmosphere of daily life rushed towards her, stimulating all her senses. She felt a little short of breath and a bit dizzy.
With slender, white fingertips gripping the doorknob, she gently pushed it to both sides, and the two doors slid open in their respective directions, the tracks moving smoothly and without much noise.
The upper shelves of the wardrobe were filled with crisp, high-end black suit jackets, while the lower shelves, amidst a sea of white shirts, contained about a dozen blue, pink, and yellow shirts wrapped in dust bags…
Looking at them, Qin Qiao recalled that she had chosen them all back then. More than ten years had passed in the blink of an eye. At that time, Chen Jiashu occasionally had to attend business events, and these became his attire.
With the chosen clothes hanging on her forearm, Qin Qiao opened the small drawer in the middle, selected a light pink tie from a limited selection of colors, and walked out with them.
The clothes were temporarily left on the bed, and the sound of running water came from the bathroom faucet. Qin Qiao turned her head and, through the half-open door, saw the man's back swaying back and forth from time to time.
She walked towards the doorway without thinking, and just as she reached it, Chen Jiashu suddenly leaned out. Qin Qiao's heart skipped a beat, and she stumbled and stopped abruptly.
Her hand clutched her chest, her heart pounding with anxiety. He, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling, and asked, half-teasingly:
"Why are you worried that I can't take care of myself?"
The roots of the man's hair on his forehead were wet, causing his hair to droop, with a strand covering his handsome brow bone. Under the light, the dark, wet hair gleamed with a slight sheen.
Qin Qiao, with her sharp eyes, noticed the white foam residue on the corner of his lips, like toothpaste that hadn't been rinsed off: "Are you done washing your face?"
After washing his face with facial cleanser only once, Chen Jiashu asked in confusion, "Not yet? What's wrong?"
"Nothing, just asking casually." Qin Qiao smiled faintly, "By the way, I put the suit on the blanket, I... I'll go downstairs and wait for you."
"Thank you," Chen Jiashu nodded. "Go ahead."
As soon as the door closed, Chen Jiashu immediately bent down and went to the mirror. There seemed to be something dirty on the corner of his mouth. He raised his hand and wiped it away—it was just a light layer of face wash foam.
Recalling Qin Qiao's question, "Is your face washed?", he couldn't help but let out a short laugh. It turned out she was worried that he would be "wearing makeup." In the past, she would have already taken care of it for him, but now she had to remind him indirectly.
After getting dressed, Chen Jiashu sat on the edge of the bed. The shirt he was wearing seemed to still retain the warmth of her fingers. He couldn't help but think that if he did those things again, Qin Qiao would surely remember those beautiful moments from back then.
This was his intention in inviting her up and then asking for her help.
Chen Jiashu opened the drawer, took out the eye drops from the small box, tilted his head back, and squeezed a drop of the liquid into each of his eyes.
After resting for half a minute, Chen Jiashu got up and silently counted his steps as he walked to the living room outside.
The white solid wood cabinet against the wall was no more than a meter high. Chen Jiashu bent down slightly, picked up the white cane from the first compartment, and then opened the door and went out.
As soon as Chen Jiashu stepped out of the elevator, he spotted Qin Qiao on the living room sofa and invited her, "Shall we have breakfast together?"
She came out early, before the breakfast shops were even open. Qin Qiao's stomach had been growling for a while. She had originally planned to go out and buy two steamed buns later, but since Chen Jiashu had invited her to have breakfast, she decided not to be polite: "Okay, thank you."
A long white table, the two sat on opposite sides, facing each other.
Two bowls of fragrant millet porridge, steaming hot, were already prepared. Qin Qiao was extremely hungry. She took the small bone china spoon handed to her by the nanny, scooped up a spoonful, blew on it, and put it in her mouth.
The warm, sweet aroma of rice spreads across the tongue, then slides smoothly down the throat, leaving a warm and comforting sensation.
I never thought a bowl of porridge could taste so delicious. Qin Qiao herself doesn't like porridge; her breakfast is always steamed buns or noodles, and so are her children's.
The porridge was almost gone, and she felt about 70-80% full. She quietly lifted her eyelids a little to look at the person opposite her.
Chen Jiashu ate more elegantly than her, swallowing slowly before adding another spoonful, his jawline twitching slightly, his deliberate manner increasingly exuding an air of aloofness and superiority.
He was slightly different from the man in my memory.
"Would you like some beef?"
Qin Qiao picked up a large piece of braised beef from her own bowl and put it into Chen Jiashu's bowl before he could speak.
Yang Shuhua was busy in the kitchen next door, and footsteps could be faintly heard. When Chen Jiashu looked up, Qin Qiao gave him a wink, and Chen Jiashu understood, lowering his head to continue eating his noodles.
When she was little, Yang Shuhua heard that foreigners ate beef, which is why they grew tall and strong. So, even though beef was several times more expensive than pork, and even if it meant going hungry, Yang Shuhua would make sure she ate beef three times a week.
Qin Qiao was a bit sick of eating; not only beef but also milk made her nauseous, but she never showed it in front of Yang Shuhua. Before marriage, she forced herself to eat it, but after marriage, she could give it to Chen Jiashu, who always accepted it without hesitation.
"Jia Shu—"
The two words had barely left her lips when her heart skipped a beat, as if she had missed a step. She quickly braked and veered off course: "Add...add a coat."
The air paused briefly for a few seconds.
It was broken by a series of cracking coughs.
Chen Jiashu pressed his clenched fist to his lips, his face flushed red, and his hunched back trembled.
“Ahem—”
“Ahem—”
Feeling truly sorry, Qin Qiao immediately got up, walked around the table, stood beside him, and patted his back to help him catch his breath.
However, the coughing subsided, but for some reason, Chen Jiashu's back became even more hunched, and he remained silent.
Their breathing was very heavy.
There are quite a few news reports of people choking on foreign objects and getting into trouble, even among adults.
Qin Qiao was frightened: "Wha...what's wrong?" She pulled her hand back, remembering her phone was on the coffee table outside, and started to run outside, shouting, "I'll call an ambulance!"
His wrist was suddenly gripped, with a slight pulling force. Chen Jiashu's throat was hoarse as he said, "I'm fine."
Qin Qiao turned around, and Chen Jiashu slowly raised his head, his eyes red and watery. He added softly, "It's fine to add clothes, but don't be so abrupt when transitioning scenes next time."
Qin Qiao was terrified by him, and for those few dozen seconds, she strongly condemned herself. But when she saw that he was not only unharmed, but also leisurely making jokes, her lingering fear turned into a knot of anger.
She patted him on the back, then turned and walked away, plopping down in a chair and staring at the thin layer of rice porridge floating at the bottom of the bowl.
*
When Chen Jiashu arrived at the company, in addition to his assistant Wang who was always by his side, a financial reporter carrying a briefcase followed behind him, attracting many people to secretly peek at him.
Although Qin Qiao has only been back in China for half a year, she is still familiar to many people because of her previous hosting of the prime-time program "Economic Frontier".
Chen Jiashu walked straight to his desk, rested his cane on the cabinet, and his assistant handed him his briefcase before quietly leaving.
He pulled out the heavy office chair, sat down, then unzipped his briefcase and took out a stack of documents that he hadn't finished reviewing the night before, placing them on the table.
Chen Jiashu looked up: "Qiaoqiao, come here."
Qin Qiao had just sat down on the sofa when, as if possessed, she did as she was told and walked over.
Chen Jiashu handed her the quarterly financial report: "I looked at half of it yesterday. Could you review it again for me and see if there are any omissions?"
For a seasoned financial journalist like Qin Qiao, analyzing corporate financial reports is a natural area of expertise.
but--
Qin Qiao was both annoyed and amused. "Chairman Chen, I'm not here to be your free auditor."
The man's eyes were like a pool reflecting the moonlight, and his tone was deep: "I've been using the management principles you taught me all this time."
With her fingers curled slightly, Qin Qiao took the financial report, went back, and sat on the sofa to read it carefully.
If anyone should be teaching her, it should be Chen Jiashu. Although Chen Jiashu only graduated from high school, he was once a gold medalist in the International Mathematical Olympiad and was admitted to university through a special admission program. He has a vast knowledge base.
Qin Qiaoxiu is pursuing a double degree, and Financial Mathematics is a major headache for her as a liberal arts student, especially the part on stochastic processes and financial modeling.
One day, she threw several finance books at Chen Jiashu, saying she would teach him how to manage a company. In exchange, he had to teach her stochastic calculus and probability statistics from "Financial Mathematics".
Chen Jiashu understood immediately: "Resource exchange?"
“Yes, you’ll have to learn it sooner or later,” she nodded solemnly. “Managing company experience is one thing, but systematic management is also very important.”
Chen Jiashu raised an eyebrow: "So how do you plan to teach me?"
“Take a look first, and ask me if you don’t understand anything.” She picked up “Financial Mathematics” from the table. “Teach me this first.”
That scene replayed in my mind like a movie.
The statement, "I still use the management principles you taught me," was clearly a reminder that what she called "teaching" back then was actually more of what he taught her.
Okay, pay back the debt. It's all her debt to him.
The pen scribbled as Qin Qiao turned her head and saw Chen Jiashu wearing rimless glasses, writing something with his head down.
It was the first time I'd seen him wear glasses, which softened his otherwise rugged features and gave him an air of refinement. It actually worked quite well.
"Reading glasses?" Qin Qiao blurted out.
A note from the author:
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The next chapter is going to be heartbreaking, and Jia Shu will be devastated again.
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