Disobedience To Control chapter 13
Business Trip Bonus
There was a temperature difference of more than ten degrees between North City and Jiangcheng.
Yang Xiaobei hadn’t had time to change his clothes when he boarded the plane. He was still wearing a beige hoodie jacket, which provided little protection against the cold wind.
As the two tangled together, their clothes fell to the ground with a loud noise.
Song Siheng accidentally touched the back of his hand, feeling a chill.
He asked, “Couldn’t you have worn something warmer for the flight?”
Yang Xiaobei sighed, “Ge, come on, who knew you’d call me over in the middle of the night? I rushed to the airport, and my name was being broadcasted all over the airport; I almost missed the flight.”
Seeing him starting to talk back again, Song Siheng pushed him onto the bed. Yang Xiaobei almost fell down as he wasn’t standing stably.
“What are you doing?” Yang Xiaobei immediately propped himself up with his arms, staring at the figure opposite him in the darkness, “I’ve said, I’m not bottom.”
“Tsk.” Song Siheng’s mind was still not clear. He directly straddled him, “I’m not interested in your ass.”
Yang Xiaobei couldn’t help but reach out and turn on a bedside lamp. Under the dim orange light, Song Siheng’s cheeks were slightly flushed, his lips were a little dry but still plump, and he looked quite different from usual.
Yang Xiaobei couldn’t help but raise a hand, gently pressing against the back of Song Siheng’s head, leaning his face closer.
Song Siheng waited for most of the night, feeling groggy and lacking much strength. He sat astride without moving, allowing him to do as he pleased.
The tips of their noses were less than two inches apart, and Yang Xiaobei suddenly remembered something, stopping his movements. “Oh right, I almost went to the wrong door just now.”
Song Siheng suddenly became alert, his mind clearing in an instant. “What do you mean?”
“I ran into someone in the elevator who looked a bit like you. I almost followed him upstairs.”
Song Siheng’s heart skipped a beat as he recalled that it was probably when Song Qin had just left to catch his flight.
“Did he see you?” Song Siheng’s gaze turned cold halfway through.
“No,” Yang Xiaobei rubbed his cheek against Song Siheng’s, “I was wearing a hat, and the corridor was dark.”
Song Siheng breathed a sigh of relief, leaning into Yang Xiaobei.
His skin was warm, the lingering taste of alcohol still present, and his hair brushed against Yang Xiaobei’s neck.
It was the first time Yang Xiaobei had seen Song Siheng so tender. The fatigue from the long journey vanished.
“Want to try this?” He nudged his thigh, hinting at their current position.
Song Siheng, unusually, didn’t scold him, instead giving a quiet “Hmm” in agreement.
At seven in the morning, the cold northern city welcomed its first rays of sunlight. The pale golden light pierced through the city’s boundaries from the east.
At the end of the hotel corridor, the curtains had been drawn back and the windows opened, allowing the cool breeze mixed with warmth from the heating to enter the room.
There was only one person in the bed, buried between the pillows, breathing steadily. The half-exposed back above the blanket showed scattered bruises, resembling palm prints.
The sound of water came from the bathroom, then it stopped. The sliding door was gently pushed open, and Yang Xiaobei emerged wearing a white bathrobe from the inner room.
He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment before getting up and closing the glass window.
This peaceful tranquility didn’t last long. Half an hour later, the doorbell rang.
Yang Xiaobei got up from the bed, and the slightly sunken mattress rebounded. He walked towards the door, ready to answer it. But just as he was about to, a hand suddenly reached out from behind and pulled him back by the waist.
“Hmm?!” Yang Xiaobei turned around, realizing that Song Siheng had somehow gotten up.
“Hide, don’t make a sound,” Song Siheng’s alcohol-induced haze had dissipated, and he was fully awake.
Before Yang Xiaobei could say anything, he was pushed into the bathroom. Then, with a bang, he was locked in, and the door was shut firmly.
“Hey…” Yang Xiaobei’s voice was muffled inside the wooden door.
Outside, Song Siheng quickly dressed himself, pushing the trash can under the table before going to answer the door.
“Jin Shuming said he’ll meet in the conference room at nine in the morning,” Li Ke came to wake him up.
Song Siheng breathed out a sigh, “Got it. I’ll come down to find you later.”
Li Ke didn’t leave after speaking, “Can I come in?”
Song Siheng’s gaze slightly darkened, his Adam’s apple bobbing before he asked, “Do you have something?”
Li Ke waved the folder in his hand, “Jin Shuming modified the budget proposal overnight. I thought it would be better to discuss it with you before the meeting.”
Glancing at the clock on the wall, it was almost eight o’clock.
“Come in,” he opened the door, stepping aside to let Li Ke in.
Walking ahead, Song Siheng noticed a jacket lying by the sofa. It was Yang Xiaobei’s, creamy white in color.
He kicked it aside as he passed, and both of them sat down facing each other on the sofas.
Song Siheng glanced around and noticed the bathroom was silent, the frosted glass partition opaque. He breathed a sigh of relief.
But after half a minute, he suddenly realized that the bathroom’s partition was made of electric glass. If the person inside pressed the switch, the frosted glass would instantly turn transparent, revealing everything inside.
“Do you have any opinions? I think this proportion won’t affect our total budget for next year much,” Li Ke noticed Song Siheng seemed distracted and asked.
“Let me see,” Song Siheng picked up the folder in front of him, scanning it before replying, “Lower it by another five points. He’s like a hungry wolf, never satisfied. We can’t set this precedent.”
Li Ke nodded, “Alright. I’ll adjust the overall summary according to this.”
As soon as Li Ke finished speaking, Song Siheng stood up from the sofa, indicating he was ready to see him off. Li Ke was a bit surprised, “Am I leaving first?”
“Yes. I need to take a shower before I leave,” Song Siheng nodded.
Li Ke smiled, “Sorry, I forgot you wanted to shower before leaving.”
Song Siheng remained composed, opening the door for him, “See you downstairs in half an hour.”
“Okay, I’ve already arranged a car for you,” Li Ke nodded.
With a click, the door finally closed. Song Siheng turned the handle of the bathroom door, pushing it open.
Yang Xiaobei was standing by the door, leaning against the wall and looking at him.
“Boss, is this what they call ‘keeping the beauty in the golden house’? It’s quite exciting.” Yang Xiaobei hung onto him like a koala, resting on his shoulder.
Song Siheng lightly tapped his chest with the back of his hand, serious, “For the whole day today, don’t leave the room without my permission.”
“Why didn’t you tell me he’s your secretary?” Yang Xiaobei’s hands didn’t let go, asking near his ear.
“What?” Song Siheng didn’t understand what he meant.
“That handsome guy. I thought he was your boyfriend.”
“It’s just your own speculation,” Song Siheng pushed his arms away, walking back to the bed.
But Yang Xiaobei seemed to be in a good mood, completely unaffected, “So he’s my colleague at the same level. Now I feel much better.”
“At the same level?” Song Siheng glanced at him, “You’re thinking too much. His salary is much higher than yours.”
Yang Xiaobei didn’t argue further, grinning, “So what, I don’t have to work regular hours. All in all, it’s worth it for me.”
Song Siheng didn’t know where he got his sense of comparison from, nor did he care to argue, “I’m going out soon. Stay put for the whole day.”
Several rooms in the hallway were occupied by his subordinates. If Yang Xiaobei wandered outside, he might run into someone.
“What about my meal? Am I supposed to starve to death?” Yang Xiaobei immediately hugged his arms, feigning helplessness.
“I’ll order room service for you. You don’t need to go out,” Song Siheng said as he quickly put on his coat and tidied his hair.
Yang Xiaobei was still in his white bathrobe, making them look like they belonged to completely different worlds.
A black cashmere scarf hung in the hallway, short-haired, soft but without a single wrinkle.
As Song Siheng was about to open the door to leave, his right hand was suddenly grasped. He paused and turned around to see Yang Xiaobei had taken off the scarf.
Then, almost enveloping him, Yang Xiaobei wrapped the scarf around his neck and tied it loosely.
“It’s cold outside,” Yang Xiaobei’s voice came from beside his ear.
Song Siheng felt an inexplicable itch.
Soon, he straightened up again, turned around, closed the door, and headed for the elevator hall.
When Song Siheng returned to the hotel again, it was almost nine o’clock in the evening.
He swiped open the door, and the room was still at the same temperature as when he left in the morning. However, there was only a night light on, and the TV at the head of the bed was flickering, playing some melodramatic soap opera. The two protagonists on the screen were tearing at each other, emitting bursts of screams.
Song Siheng furrowed his brows and rubbed his ears.
When he turned to look again, Yang Xiaobei was leaning against the bed, peeling an orange in his hand, his eyes fixed on the TV screen.
Song Siheng remembered he hadn’t ordered any fruit for him.
“Where did the fruit come from?” Song Siheng took off the scarf, took off his coat, and approached, asking, “Did you go out?”
“The hotel staff gave it to me. They came to deliver lunch and asked if I wanted a fruit plate.” Yang Xiaobei still had the same playful smile on his face, and his eyes didn’t leave the TV screen when he replied.
Song Siheng relaxed a bit, then Yang Xiaobei threw a peeled orange across to him.
“Eat first, my benefactor.” Yang Xiaobei got off the bed, squinting and complimenting him.
Song Siheng took the orange but didn’t eat it. Instead, he placed it on the bedside table.
Opening his black laptop bag, he took out a leather bag and threw it at Yang Xiaobei’s chest.
Yang Xiaobei didn’t react in time and almost missed it. The bag tossed in the air a couple of times before landing in his hands.
“What’s this? It’s so heavy?” Yang Xiaobei weighed it in his hand. There was a four or five-inch square object inside the leather bag, solid.
“This month’s.” Song Siheng’s tone was calm.
“Wow. Is this my salary?” Yang Xiaobei immediately tore open the paper bag and poured out what was inside.
Several stacks of cash.
“One, two, three, four… one hundred thousand?!” Yang Xiaobei thought he was going to be fired before he came here, but now his salary had doubled, “No, did you make a mistake?”
“Travel allowance.” Song Siheng reached out to take it, “I’ll take it back if you don’t want it.”
Yang Xiaobei hurriedly protected the banknotes in front of him, with a righteous face, “I want it, why wouldn’t I? Whenever you want to travel in the future, I’ll accompany you wherever you go, north or south.”