Jiang Chen was dumbfounded.

He never imagined that when Lu Chiyuan said “It counts as overtime,” he meant actual overtime.

Because Shen Zhiyi’s issues had disrupted Lu Chiyuan’s work, he relocated his office from the company to Xu Chen’s villa.

After work, Lu Mingxuan brought over documents that needed handling, along with some daily necessities, indicating Lu Chiyuan planned to stay here for the short term.

Uncle Lin had someone deliver fresh clothes, including a set for Jiang Chen.

Having accepted the favor, Jiang Chen felt too awkward to refuse and didn’t mention going home.

It was just overtime, right? It’s not like he’d never done it before. Who hasn’t had their days as a working stiff?

A few hours later, Jiang Chen stared at the multiple open document windows on his computer, his vision blurring.

Why did the files seem to multiply the more he looked? And he was so hungry!

Jiang Chen glanced out the window. The neighborhood’s streetlights glowed brightly. The environment here was indeed serene, with no noise to disturb the quiet. Such a peaceful atmosphere often lulled one into focus, hard to interrupt.

If not for his stomach growling and his eyes straining from the documents, Jiang Chen wouldn’t have lost focus. He checked the time—it was already past eight.

[Snowball, is it illegal for transmigrators to eat in this world?]

Since arriving in this world, Jiang Chen had been starving nine meals out of three days. He wasn’t picky, but this eating frequency was unbearable.

Snowball sympathized: [Your boss is a workaholic. You need to learn to schedule meal times, or you’ll go hungry.]

[If I’m starving, isn’t he? He’s not made of iron.]

Jiang Chen realized this couldn’t go on. Three days in, he was already at his limit. Long term, could Lu Chiyuan’s health handle it?

Jiang Chen decided to take matters into his own hands to ensure he was well-fed.

He closed the documents and went downstairs to the kitchen to see if there was anything to eat.

He opened the fridge—empty.

He checked the cabinets—empty.

He looked in the pantry—empty.

Jiang Chen: “…”

It finally hit him what Lu Chiyuan meant when he said Xu Chen didn’t live here.

The house was pristine, the kitchen as unused as the day it was bought. Yet, despite the emptiness, the housekeeping staff kept the electricity on.

Jiang Chen leaned against the spotless counter, silent for a long moment.

[If I remember correctly, Lu Chiyuan didn’t keep the driver’s car here.]

The driver lived at the Lu family’s old residence, and Lu Chiyuan had sent him back.

Jiang Chen’s car was still at the hospital parking lot, and Lu Chiyuan’s usual car had been totaled in the accident.

Even if Jiang Chen wanted to go out to buy something, it wasn’t practical. Their location was far from the main road, and getting a ride was nearly impossible.

[I’m done for!]

His stomach ached faintly from hunger. He opened a food delivery app and scrolled through the colorful options, but after a full browse, nothing appealed to him.

“Snowball, I think I’m done for.”

Jiang Chen pressed his abdomen as the pain intensified. Taking a deep breath, he left the kitchen.

Snowball worried: [The original body offended Chen Jiu and was constantly sent on errands during meal times, leading to irregular eating habits and stomach issues. Host, your sporadic eating these past two days has triggered a relapse.]

[I’ve detected the nearest pharmacy is two kilometers away. Based on your walking habits, you could get there in about half an hour.]

“Half an hour isn’t too far.”

Jiang Chen looked outside, headed to the shoe cabinet to change shoes, and prepared to go out. Hungry and in pain, walking was the most practical option.

“Where are you going?”

Lu Chiyuan’s voice came from behind. He stood at the staircase, looking at Jiang Chen.

[To get medicine, big brother! You might be a living god, but I’m not.]

Jiang Chen said, “I’m hungry. I’m going to see if there’s anything to eat. Want me to grab something for you, Brother Lu?”

“No need to go out. Wait two minutes—Uncle Lin’s bringing food.” Lu Chiyuan wasn’t such a heartless boss as to starve his staff, but it would take time for Uncle Lin to arrive.

Not considering food earlier was his oversight.

“If you’re not feeling well, rest for a bit. Don’t wander off.” Having overheard Jiang Chen and Snowball, Lu Chiyuan knew about the stomach pain and had already asked Uncle Lin to pick up medicine on the way.

To cover his intentions, he added a brief comment.

Jiang Chen’s mood swung from hell to heaven in an instant. Staring at Lu Chiyuan from afar, he found his earlier hesitation laughable.

Lu Chiyuan stood upstairs, forcing Jiang Chen to look up at him, while he gazed down.

For some reason, Jiang Chen disliked this distance, disliked the way Lu Chiyuan looked at him from above.

In the book, he was the second male lead Jiang Chen empathized with. Jiang Chen left reviews and tipped, hoping he’d survive and live his own life.

In reality, he was Jiang Chen’s boss, the source of his troubles, solvable with a flick of his fingers.

He didn’t need Jiang Chen’s empathy, nor would he empathize with Jiang Chen.

Jiang Chen gained a deeper understanding of the boundaries between them, along with a subtle sense of disparity.

This disparity stemmed from their unequal statuses.

“Brother Lu, when Uncle Lin comes, can he take me to the hospital? My car’s still there, and I want to go home,” Jiang Chen said with a forced smile, suppressing his discomfort.

Lu Chiyuan was surprised. He didn’t hear any inner thoughts from Jiang Chen—going home seemed to be a genuine decision.

The same person who’d eagerly agreed to stay earlier—why the sudden change of heart?

His subconscious urged him to agree, but after a moment of hesitation, his grip tightened on the railing. Fighting his instincts, he said firmly, “No.”

Jiang Chen’s smile froze. He opened his mouth but said nothing.

[Dog man!]

Who was he suffering for? He couldn’t even hitch a ride.

[Fine, I’ll book my own ride back.]

Jiang Chen said nothing more. He changed his shoes, sat on the sofa, and pressed his abdomen to ease the pain.

Lu Chiyuan looked around. No mistake—he was the only one upstairs.

So Jiang Chen’s “dog man” was aimed at him? This morning he was “Baby,” and now he was a “dog man.” What heinous crime had he committed?

Lu Chiyuan didn’t get it. He went downstairs, saw Jiang Chen’s discomfort, and boiled some water for him in the kitchen.

Xu Chen’s house was too clean. He only returned a few times a year and didn’t stock food.

Fortunately, Uncle Lin arrived on time, just as Lu Chiyuan finished boiling the water.

Besides prepared dinner, Uncle Lin brought ingredients, directing staff to fill the fridge and stock the cabinets, along with the stomach medicine Lu Chiyuan had requested.

“Take the medicine after eating,” Uncle Lin reminded.

Lu Chiyuan walked to the living room, calling Jiang Chen to eat.

Jiang Chen, who’d been resting on the sofa, nearly fell asleep. When Lu Chiyuan called him, he rubbed his eyes and followed to the dining room.

The staff left after setting up, leaving only Uncle Lin in the dining room.

Jiang Chen greeted him, sat down, and looked at the table full of dishes but had no appetite. Still, since Uncle Lin had gone to the trouble, he ate a few bites before stopping.

He glanced at Lu Chiyuan, who hadn’t put down his chopsticks, so he served himself a bowl of soup to linger at the table.

[Snowball, book me a ride.]

[Hold on, Host. I’ll arrange the best ride for you.]

“Rest after eating, then take the medicine. Stay here tonight—don’t stress yourself when you’re unwell,” Lu Chiyuan said, interrupting Jiang Chen’s chat with Snowball as he set down his chopsticks.

Jiang Chen looked up at him.

[So his ‘no’ meant I can’t go home? Who wants to stay with their boss when they’re sick?]

Jiang Chen silently grumbled. After a moment, he processed and said, “Medicine?”

Uncle Lin smiled. “Young Master asked me to get it.”

The small grudge in Jiang Chen’s heart melted spinelessly at those words. He said sincerely, “Thank you.”

Lu Chiyuan said, “The medicine is on the coffee table. Take it and rest.”

Jiang Chen nodded.

Lu Chiyuan watched him, hearing neither cheerful inner thoughts nor the usual “Baby.”

Was he dissatisfied?

Lu Chiyuan added, “Your car—want me to have someone drive it over?”

Jiang Chen quickly waved his hands. “No need, I’ll get it tomorrow. I’m done eating, thanks for the meal. I’ll go take the medicine.”

Jiang Chen left the dining table for the living room.

Uncle Lin had prepared warm water and sorted the medicine.

Jiang Chen thanked him, counted the pills, and started swallowing them, beginning with the bitterest capsule.

He hated being sick, hated taking medicine. When you’re unwell, your energy is at its lowest.

Neither medicine nor food worked instantly. The fluctuating pain in his stomach sapped Jiang Chen’s energy for anything. The sofa wasn’t comfortable to sit on, so he lay down.

The sofa was soft enough to support his body while feeling incredibly comfortable.

As Jiang Chen relaxed, whether it was the medicine kicking in or sheer exhaustion, sleepiness soon overtook him.

Meanwhile, Lu Chiyuan discussed matters with Uncle Lin. Noticing Jiang Chen’s silence, he looked back to see him curled up on the sofa, hand over his abdomen, brows slightly furrowed.

Lu Chiyuan walked over, sat beside him, gently lifted Jiang Chen’s head onto his lap, and rubbed the sore spot lightly.

Uncle Lin followed, his smile unwavering as he calmly reported on the tasks Lu Chiyuan had assigned.

When Snowball reported the issue, Lu Chiyuan promptly notified Uncle Lin and Lu Mingxuan. Uncle Lin worked behind the scenes, while Lu Mingxuan had the PR department issue Chen Jiu’s dismissal statement immediately.

Gu Tingsen’s illegal club was shut down, implicating not just Chen Jiu but several high-profile figures.

They tried to suppress the matter, but the police raid news, passed through Uncle Lin’s hands, reached two rival media outlets.

It was only a matter of time before it broke.

Besides Chen Jiu, there was news about the Shen family’s aunt.

She’d taken the jewelry but didn’t know its value, asking around privately about how to sell it.

Seeing this, Uncle Lin had the person tailing her guide her to a legitimate brand store to sell it second-hand, even quoting a price.

Thrilled, she brushed off a relative from her hometown and went to the jewelry store alone. The staff, alerted, called the police, and she was taken in for questioning on the spot.

“Will this jewelry issue involve the young miss? Should we send a lawyer to help?” Uncle Lin asked.

Lu Chiyuan replied, “No, I’ll stay here and watch. She needs to weigh her choices herself.”

The jewelry was a fortune to the Shen family, but for Shen Zhiyi, it would be a lesson.

She’d brought the Shen family in without discernment—it was time she opened her eyes.

“Have you found out who got the Shen family in touch with Shen Zhiyi?”

“I did, but it seems unintentional,” Uncle Lin said. “The person who leaked the young miss’s contact information was her classmate, from the same hometown. Her parents work here and brought her to study.”

[Wow, the vicious female supporting character—she’s actually doing it on purpose. The little yellow-haired guy was introduced to the female lead by her. What a pity the female lead doesn’t know anything and still treats her as a best friend.]

Lu Chiyuan frowned slightly, looking down at Jiang Chen lying on his lap. He hadn’t woken up; instead, thanks to Lu Chiyuan’s gentle touch, he’d fallen asleep.

With Jiang Chen’s consciousness no longer in control, Lu Chiyuan could still hear the so-called system’s voice.

Snowball, munching on gossip while perched on Jiang Chen’s chest, felt a chill down its back and paused mid-lick of its paw. Why did it suddenly feel so cold?

Lu Chiyuan, keeping his expression neutral, looked away.

“Investigate Zhiyi’s classmate further, especially their relationship.”

Uncle Lin noted it down. Lu Chiyuan added, “That’s all for now. You can head back. Bring me a car tomorrow.”

Uncle Lin left quietly. Lu Chiyuan leaned back on the sofa. Jiang Chen, resting on his lap, shifted slightly, seemingly finding Lu Chiyuan’s leg too hard. He reached out, fumbled a bit, and grabbed Lu Chiyuan’s hand.

In the moment their fingers intertwined, Lu Chiyuan felt an inexplicable illusion.

As if, long ago, they had been this close and inseparable.