His Venomous Former Boss Chased Him And Beat Him Fiercely Chapter 23
byThe sudden scent of frying eggs reached his nose, quickly followed by the faint aroma of noodle soup, jolting Kong Xunwen out of his daze.
The smell instantly woke up his stomach.
He was hungry.
He walked to the kitchen.
Qiu Zhijie’s back looked the same as usual—tall. The kitchen counter wasn’t built for his height, so it was slightly inconvenient for him. He held long chopsticks in one hand, stirring the noodles in the pot.
While stirring, he glanced at the tablet beside him, occasionally using voice input to send messages. After a moment, he put the tablet down, focusing entirely on the noodles.
Steam rose from the noodles. The weather was still a bit chilly, especially in the morning. Although the morning light had appeared, it hadn’t fully penetrated the mist, entering the window weakly.
It only served to highlight the rising steam.
Hearing footsteps approach, Qiu Zhijie turned, his expression normal: “You’re up? Want some noodles?”
Kong Xunwen stepped into the kitchen this time and asked, “Did you hear any sound?”
A flicker of confusion crossed Qiu Zhijie’s eyes. He scooped out the last bit of noodles, carefully recalled the past few minutes, and found nothing amiss. He turned back and replied, “Was there a sound?”
Kong Xunwen shook his head. If he didn’t know, then forget it. His original urge to confide dissipated. He stepped forward, served himself a bowl of noodles, and went to the living room to eat.
Qiu Zhijie followed shortly after, eating while observing the slightly off Kong Xunwen. What was wrong? Was it related to that question just now?
No matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t figure it out. He simply slowed down, finished eating with Kong Xunwen, and took the bowls and chopsticks to wash.
By the time Qiu Zhijie finished washing the dishes, Kong Xunwen was already standing in the yard, walking toward the gate.
Kong Xunwen heard Qiu Zhijie following him and glanced back.
A voice was already coming from the entrance.
“Kong Guoguo!”
The calls continued until she got closer and slowly stopped.
Liu Tingfang was dressed very simply today, wearing a rare white dress. She seemed quite used to the feeling of the skirt fluttering, holding the hem down with both hands, her eyes bright with excitement.
Kong Xunwen watched the little girl brake suddenly as she approached, tilting her head to look at Qiu Zhijie behind him.
She seemed to hesitate about something, but quickly gave up thinking, looked up, and told Kong Xunwen, “The Village Head asked if you want to go to the…”
She paused, thinking.
Kong Xunwen prompted her, “Funeral?”
The little girl’s eyes lit up, and she nodded quickly: “Are you going?”
Qiu Zhijie remained silent on the side, though his strong presence made Liu Tingfang constantly look at him. Hearing the question, he looked at the young man beside him.
When funerals were mentioned, Kong Xunwen always thought of the one for his parents. It had been completed with the help of the Village Committee, the process extremely streamlined.
He only remembered the swaying urn he carried, the uneven dirt path beneath his feet, and the mournful sound of the suona horn in his ears.
The sky had been heavy and gray that day.
For a long time, he would dream of that scene, but gradually learned not to think about it.
Until he saw that medical report. In the following days, he actually dreamed of almost the same scene: a gray, gloomy sky, the weight in his hands gradually lessening, the suona music drilling into his brain, and then, at some point, his steps suddenly became heavy.
When he looked down, his feet were in a mud pit. The urn in his hands had turned into his own black-and-white portrait, covered in a thick layer of dust, making the blurry face barely visible.
He struggled but couldn’t escape, eventually letting the mud pit swallow him. His vision plunged into darkness, and his breathing grew thin…
He woke up to realize he had suffocated himself with the blanket.
He looked up at the sky. The weather was surprisingly good today. Kong Xunwen nodded: “I’ll go.”
Liu Tingfang didn’t really know what a funeral meant, only that she had just passed a lively banquet full of all sorts of delicious food that smelled wonderful.
So, was it a gathering where everyone ate good food? Like a festival, lively and bustling.
The little girl pondered this herself.
Qiu Zhijie suddenly asked, “Can I go too?”
Kong Xunwen’s light-colored pupils turned to the man beside him. A funeral. He had never heard of anyone asking to attend a stranger’s funeral.
Strange.
He thought.
Qiu Zhijie didn’t know what Kong Xunwen was thinking of him, but he kept looking at Liu Tingfang, even though he knew she could hardly give him an answer.
But he had a reason to follow, and the reason was simple: Kong Xunwen.
He had gotten injured just from being out for a short time the other day, so of course, he couldn’t feel at ease today.
And, a funeral.
Qiu Zhijie, the atheist, thought seriously, What if it really brings bad luck?
He actually wanted Kong Xunwen not to go, but he wasn’t yet qualified to interfere with Kong Xunwen’s decisions.
Kong Xunwen felt Qiu Zhijie’s worried gaze, but didn’t look at him. Seeing that Liu Tingfang hadn’t spoken, he was about to say not to trouble the little girl.
Then he heard the little girl speak: “Then you should go ask.”
Qiu Zhijie nodded.
Kong Xunwen said nothing more, just silently glanced at Qiu Zhijie.
He had been busy handling work on his tablet while cooking noodles in the kitchen. He was clearly very busy. It was hard not to overthink the situation—this must be because of him.
Before Qiu Zhijie could look back, Kong Xunwen withdrew his somewhat complicated gaze and walked out with Liu Tingfang leading the way.
The surrounding mist hadn’t completely dissipated, but the sun was growing stronger, and the sunlight felt warm on their bodies.
The sound of the suona grew closer, accompanied by some muffled, noisy sounds beneath it.
Closer now, Qiu Zhijie instinctively stopped. Kong Xunwen glanced sideways and didn’t walk any further either.
Liu Tingfang ran ahead, leaving a drawn-out tail of sound: “I’ll go first—”
“Are you waiting for me?” It was a question, but Qiu Zhijie said it with certainty.
Kong Xunwen’s attention was drawn elsewhere, but he didn’t dwell on it, nodding: “Yeah, isn’t it obvious?”
Qiu Zhijie pursed his lips, staring intently at Kong Xunwen.
He stared so hard that Kong Xunwen couldn’t ignore it. He turned back—
Qiu Zhijie didn’t move. They looked at each other. One person’s gaze was practically sparking, and the other’s was also sparking, but mostly with annoyance.
Kong Xunwen raised his hand and manually turned the face of the man staring at him in a different direction.
Qiu Zhijie blinked, and in doing so, saw the little girl rushing back.
Liu Tingfang stopped, secretly glancing behind her to make sure her grandparents hadn’t seen her running, then told Qiu Zhijie, “You can come.”
Kong Xunwen heard this but didn’t move yet. His eyes were fixed on several elderly people—very old, with pale hair, wrinkled faces, cloudy eyes, and hunched backs. Some had highly prominent, almost deformed humps.
They carried a strange sense of serenity, yet were full of stillness.
Until a child walked among them—Pangpang.
Pangpang’s cheeks were round, and he was chewing something. The banquet hadn’t started yet; everyone was just eating peanuts, melon seeds, and chatting.
Pangpang went around asking adults for food, running back and forth, accepting treats. He had just been spanked by his grandfather but was still chewing, though his steps had slowed. Now, he looked up at the elderly people as before, asking for snacks.
The elders smiled, and the previous stillness suddenly receded a lot. Then Pangpang left, and they became still again.
His hand was tugged. Kong Xunwen snapped back, looking down into Liu Tingfang’s worried eyes, and then at Qiu Zhijie’s thoughtful expression beside him.
He seemed to be looking at the spot Kong Xunwen had just been observing.
Kong Xunwen composed himself: “Let’s go. Where are our seats?”
The little girl proudly led him toward an empty spot.
It was a very empty table; besides Kong Xunwen and Qiu Zhijie, there was no one else. Liu Tingfang, having completed her mission, went off to find her friends.
Suddenly, only the two of them remained.
It was a funeral, after all. The sounds of people eating and chatting were not loud. The children were also kept quiet, and there were no bright colors in sight.
Qiu Zhijie happened to be dressed in black, white, and gray today.
Kong Xunwen grabbed a handful of melon seeds and cracked them, asking Qiu Zhijie, “Why did you come?”
Qiu Zhijie looked at him: “I was worried about you.”
“What good does worrying do? It’s useless for you to be by my side, actually,” Kong Xunwen said, lowering his gaze.
Both of them knew what that meant. If Kong Xunwen suddenly had an episode, Qiu Zhijie would be helpless.
His wrist was suddenly grasped, then released. Kong Xunwen looked at Qiu Zhijie with a blank expression.
“Don’t say things like that,” Qiu Zhijie looked at Kong Xunwen stubbornly.
Kong Xunwen pulled his hand free from the loose grip on his wrist, looked away, and indeed, said nothing more.
After a while, the feast began. Kong Xunwen then realized that he and Qiu Zhijie were sitting at the children’s table.
Looking at the children around them, Kong Xunwen’s tense body gradually relaxed. He looked at Qiu Zhijie with some amusement: “CEO Qiu, how did you end up at the kids’ table today?”
Qiu Zhijie looked natural: “You’re here.”
Kong Xunwen was expressionless again: “Shameless.”
His bowl was filled with many dishes. Kong Xunwen looked down—they were his favorites. A faint voice reached his ear: “Eat more.”
Before leaving the banquet, Kong Xunwen found the Village Head.
One was supposed to give money when attending a feast.
Sensing his intention, the Village Head stepped back several paces before sighing: “He had no family; it was just him. At least everyone came to send him off, so he left with some liveliness. Remembering this meal is remembering him. Just eat and go.”
He waved his hand dismissively.
Kong Xunwen walked home. Qiu Zhijie walked ahead, and Kong Xunwen unconsciously stepped on Qiu Zhijie’s shadow, suddenly speaking: “You like me?”
Qiu Zhijie stopped. Kong Xunwen didn’t stop in time and stepped right onto Qiu Zhijie’s foot.
He silently retreated a step, then suddenly felt his chin being lifted.
He met Qiu Zhijie’s gaze.
He saw him say earnestly: “Yes, I like you.”
He was stunned for a few seconds. They were so close that Kong Xunwen could feel Qiu Zhijie’s breath. He realized they were too close and pulled his head back.
The pressure on his chin was very light, as if he were a porcelain doll that might shatter if handled carelessly.
Not separating much, Kong Xunwen looked at Qiu Zhijie, his voice very soft: “Then if I die—”
He spoke quickly, but upon hearing the phrase, he saw Qiu Zhijie’s brow furrow even faster, his eyes full of disapproval.
Kong Xunwen: “—Will I become your white moonlight who died young?”
He said it anyway.
Qiu Zhijie shook his head, looking more distressed by the hypothesis than Kong Xunwen himself: “No.”
He repeated, emphasizing the syllables heavily: “You won’t.”