His Venomous Former Boss Chased Him And Beat Him Fiercely Chapter 7

…Are you sure this isn’t a misdiagnosis?

Kong Xunwen slept very well that night. As he lay in bed, he reviewed his day and was surprised to find it quite fulfilling.

Tomorrow, he needed to get up early to prepare for the livestream and choose a time to broadcast.

Thinking this, Kong Xunwen closed his eyes peacefully.

Let tomorrow come quickly.

This was the first time since learning about his Genetic Disease that he had looked forward to the next day before falling asleep.

*

Opening his eyes, Kong Xunwen woke up to a hazy light. He had drawn the curtains last night, but the curtains he chose allowed some light through, making the room misty. Coupled with the grogginess of just waking up, everything was a bit unclear.

He fumbled for his phone and squinted to check the time. Better than yesterday; it was now 6:35 AM.

Although still early, it was progress. Adjusting one’s routine couldn’t happen all at once.

Kong Xunwen threw off the quilt, put on his slippers, and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, pulling back half of the curtain with a swift whoosh. It wasn’t very bright outside, and the loud, distant crowing of a rooster entered his ears.

The spring morning was damp, and the bamboo forest was a vibrant green, looking as if dew drops might fall from it.

He slid open the floor-to-ceiling window, and the cool, moist air of the early morning immediately rushed in, supplying Kong Xunwen’s lungs with ample nourishment.

Taking a deep breath, Kong Xunwen shivered.

It was still a bit cold in the morning.

Although he was reluctant to leave the fresh air outside, Kong Xunwen had things to do today, so he didn’t linger. He closed the window and pulled back the other half of the curtain, instantly giving the room a full view of the emerald bamboo.

Kong Xunwen, however, had already gone next door to wash up. He came out and changed out of his pajamas. The previous chill prompted him to put on a jacket—he grabbed a random one, a suede short jacket that looked rakishly handsome.

This was a piece of clothing he had bought in college. After starting work, he mostly wore casual clothes with less distinctive styles or formal wear required for special occasions. He hadn’t worn these clothes for a long time.

He used to be quite the trendy guy who spent a lot of time on his appearance.

Looking in the mirror, Kong Xunwen was slightly surprised to find that even after three years of not wearing this kind of clothing, he didn’t feel awkward at all.

Soon, Trendy Guy Kong left the mirror and stood in his current domain—the kitchen.

He felt a little emotional. Back then, how could he have known that the current him would give up time spent on dressing up to make breakfast in the kitchen?

Yet, the final product created with this precious saved time…

Kong Xunwen picked up a mouthful of fried noodles with his chopsticks, chewed expressionlessly, but couldn’t endure it for more than a few seconds, spitting it out into the trash can.

He silently placed the chopsticks on the edge of the plate. This time, it wasn’t too sour or too salty, but because he carelessly added some pork—which he had just rinsed and thrown in—the noodles were now thoroughly coated in the raw, gamey smell of the pork.

It was the kind of dish that made you want to vomit after one bite.

Kong Xunwen once again confronted today’s breakfast.

He thought, maybe he should raise some chickens or ducks. That way, if he couldn’t eat these things in the future, he could feed them to the poultry.

But that didn’t solve the problem of the current noodles.

Kong Xunwen tried to avoid waste, failed, and finally covered his forehead, resolving that next time, he absolutely would not improvise; he would strictly follow the recipe.

—The recipe only taught him how to fry vegetarian noodles and only suggested adding some greens. Kong Xunwen felt that people needed meat for energy, so…

In the end, the bowl of noodles was dumped. Kong Xunwen had one virtue: he learned from his mistakes. For example, he controlled the amount today, unlike yesterday when he cooked too much.

After all, he didn’t have those few children who volunteered for punishment today.

This counted as having eaten breakfast. The slightly nauseating taste lingered in his mouth, completely killing his appetite. He simply grabbed an apple and started munching.

The fruity aroma drove away the bad taste. While eating, he searched for drawing livestreams. It was too early now, so not many people were streaming, but there were a few, as well as some interesting clips cut from past livestreams.

Kong Xunwen clicked on the top livestream.

It was very quiet, with only the scratching sound of the pen on the screen. There wasn’t even any music, and the stream didn’t have many viewers.

The streamer didn’t seem to care much; the full view of the painting wasn’t even in the frame. They were probably just streaming for fun.

Kong Xunwen silently exited and clicked on a livestream clip from around 7 PM. This one was much livelier. The streamer would stop and chat when looking at the bullet comments.

It made him wonder: could you really spare the mental energy to chat while drawing?

Or did they draw for a while and then rest? That was different from his habit. How should he stream?

He had intended to learn from other streamers, but he gained nothing by the time he finished the apple.

Kong Xunwen tossed the core and washed the stickiness off his hands.

Ding-dong. He received a message from his teacher.

Teacher: Let me know when you’re ready to stream. I’ll come support you.

Kong Xunwen stared at the message, a sudden nervousness rising within him. His teacher watching him draw live?! How was that different from taking an exam under his teacher’s nose?

He carefully considered his reply: I’ll let you know when I’m ready.

Teacher: Good, good. No rush.

Kong Xunwen exhaled. He wasn’t planning to delay the stream, but rather to use a separate anonymous account. Once he got used to it and produced some results, he would tell his teacher.

Thinking this, he felt much more relaxed. The internet was full of strangers anyway, so it didn’t matter if his broadcast wasn’t good. At worst, no one would watch.

He got up, ready to check on the setup for his stream. He would strike while the iron was hot: prepare this morning and start streaming after lunch!

Suddenly, the sound of a car engine shutting off came from outside.

There were no other houses nearby, so it could only be someone looking for him or coming to his house.

Kong Xunwen frowned, stopped, and walked toward the door. As soon as he opened the gate, he saw a familiar car outside, and a familiar yet unfamiliar man who was closing the car door and looking up.

Familiar because he had seen him often over the past three years, unfamiliar because he had never seen the man look like this before.

His somewhat messy hair looked genuinely disheveled. A few strands hung over his forehead, seemingly damp and stuck together in a dense black mass that merged with his brow and eyes. His deep black pupils stared straight at him, capturing his gaze. His earlobes were bare, and his neck and fingers were empty; only a wristwatch adorned his wrist.

He was wearing a black trench coat with a single crease in the hem. His fair, jade-like skin contrasted sharply with the overall black attire, making him look like a character from a black-and-white comic.

He was getting distracted…

In his memory, Qiu Zhijie always kept himself meticulously groomed, even when exhausted—down to every last strand of hair.

It was safe to say this was the first time Kong Xunwen had seen him look so… disheveled? At least, by Qiu Zhijie’s standards, this counted as disheveled.

During the moment of his stunned silence, the man had already strode toward him. A faint light flickered in his black pupils, and his lips were slightly pressed together. The tall figure approaching felt somewhat imposing.

This sense of pressure reminded him of his time at the studio. Now, he always felt like a heavy dark cloud was hanging over his head back then, especially when taking his designs to Qiu Zhijie…

This felt exactly like the time when he had emailed a design, and Qiu Zhijie had come looking for him.

Kong Xunwen instinctively reached out.

“Screech—Bang!”

He blinked at the door that had suddenly appeared in front of him, only then realizing that he had shut Qiu Zhijie out.

Feeling the tension in his heart, Kong Xunwen pinched his fingertips.

He couldn’t be blamed, right? After all, no one wants to see their boss—or, to be precise, their former boss—after resigning.

So why had this difficult former boss personally come knocking? Why hadn’t he known he was so important before he left? Was the studio really so dependent on him?

But Kong Xunwen ultimately reopened the door, meeting the gaze of Qiu Zhijie, who was now standing right in front of him, with some embarrassment.

Kong Xunwen was already over six feet tall, but Qiu Zhijie was six-foot-three. Standing so close, Kong Xunwen had to tilt his head slightly to meet his eyes.

He immediately took a step back. He hadn’t expected the man to be so close. Still feeling awkward about having just shut the door on him, Kong Xunwen simply lowered his eyes and spoke: “CEO Qiu, is there something you need? I believe I submitted my resignation.”

As he spoke, he recalled seeing the man looking downcast and weary earlier, but the more he thought about it, the more it felt like a hallucination.

Qiu Zhijie habitually reined in his emotions. Hearing the voice, he looked up and saw the young man avoiding his gaze. After a few seconds, he said, “I approved your application.”

Kong Xunwen finally looked up, remembering that he was no longer his employee, and his attitude relaxed slightly: “Then why are you here? Is there something else?”

He looked at the man facing him, who seemed a little strange.

“…Are you sure this isn’t a misdiagnosis?”

As Qiu Zhijie said this, a flicker of hesitation seemed to cross his eyes.

But Kong Xunwen’s mind was filled with the words Qiu Zhijie had just spoken.

Yes, he himself had doubted it, but hearing it from Qiu Zhijie’s mouth felt wrong. What did he mean? Did he travel all the way here just to mock him?

Did he think Kong Xunwen didn’t know this already?! Did he think Kong Xunwen couldn’t even figure that much out?

He stared fixedly at Qiu Zhijie for a moment, then turned and strode into the yard.

It didn’t take much effort to find the reports from the hospitals he had visited earlier, which were in the living room.

Behind him, Qiu Zhijie regretted speaking the moment the words left his mouth. He actually wanted to ask if there was a possibility of error—he hoped it was false, hoped Kong Xunwen was healthy.

But the moment he saw the expression on Kong Xunwen’s face, he knew he had messed up.

The man frowned in annoyance.

The young man had already returned quickly. Qiu Zhijie didn’t dare move and was promptly showered with a pile of medical reports. As he fumbled to catch them, he was unceremoniously shoved out the door.

“BANG!!!”

The sound of the door slamming shut this time was even louder, as if declaring the young man’s fury inside.

Qiu Zhijie paused, staring for a long time at the closed door. He silently crouched down and picked up the reports he hadn’t managed to catch, one by one.

Wang Tongliang received an urgent call. The person on the other end said they couldn’t reach Qiu Zhijie temporarily. He looked back and realized his boss’s phone was still in the car.

He was still hesitating, but hearing the loud slam of the door, he couldn’t help but look over, his eyes widening slightly.

CEO Qiu was…

Locked out?

The phone in his hand rang again. He saw Qiu Zhijie stand up, looking down at the reports in his hand. Wang Tongliang quickly opened the car door and handed over the phone: “An urgent matter is looking for you.”

Qiu Zhijie took the phone with one hand, holding the reports with the other, and answered the call. It was about an issue with a fabric supplier the studio frequently worked with.

He glanced at the closed door and spoke briefly into the phone to stabilize the situation: “Video conference at 10:30. Tell me the specifics then.”

Hanging up, Qiu Zhijie got into the car and told Wang Tongliang in the front seat, “Return to the hotel first.”

Wang Tongliang acknowledged the order, feeling surprised. Although this matter could be resolved remotely, it would certainly be better to return. But was he staying here?

Because of Kong Xunwen?

He silently upgraded Kong Xunwen’s importance in his mind.