Disobedience To Control chapter 17
Personal Trainer
Song Siheng didn’t know which flight Yang Xiaobei took.
He removed Yang Xiaobei from the blacklist, but he didn’t receive any messages from him. It was as if Yang Xiaobei disappeared even more thoroughly than any of Song Siheng’s subordinates after work. It was as if their stroll on the streets and visit to the amusement park the day before were just tasks on his work schedule.
This works fine. He also dislikes having unclear entanglements with others. Song Siheng thought.
On the following day, Song Siheng finished his business trip and returned to Jiancheng. Just after getting off the plane, he received a call from Fu Xuehua.
The content of the call was not unexpected. Fu Xuehua said she received a call from the sales department in the morning about the delivery of the car and wanted to confirm with Song Siheng, also mentioning sending the payment for the car. However, Song Siheng still declined in the end.
“In that case, let’s plan for next week. I’ll host a dinner, you come back, I’ll make sure Xiao Qin leaves work early too, and invite Miss Yu to our house for dinner. How about it?”
Initially, Song Siheng wanted to decline. But thinking about how Song Qin had helped with his arrangements for this trip to North City, and his own lack of gratitude as a younger brother, he agreed.
“I’ll host the dinner. Song Qin helped me out this time, and I haven’t properly thanked him.” Song Siheng said.
Fu Xuehua paused for a moment, then agreed enthusiastically, “That works too. You two brothers should keep in touch more.”
“But I won’t be dining at home. Please book a restaurant, and I’ll come to sign the car documents later.” Song Siheng added.
Before Fu Xuehua could respond, Song Siheng assumed her consent and hung up.
As his phone screen dimmed, the glass door of the office was pushed open. Li Ke walked in with some documents.
“When are you free next week?” Song Siheng asked him, lifting his gaze.
“What’s up?” Li Ke inquired.
“My mom wants to invite guests for dinner. If you’re available, you can join us. She’s been mentioning you a lot lately.” Song Siheng replied.
“Your family dinner?” Li Ke raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, with Song Qin.” Song Siheng confirmed.
Li Ke lowered his eyelids, smiling, “Forget it. It’s your family gathering. I won’t intrude.”
“What’s up? Are you dating someone lately?” Song Siheng teased.
“Do you have any conscience? I’m working hard for you every day. When would I have time for that?” Li Ke retorted, tossing the documents onto Song Siheng’s desk. “There seems to be some interest from the medical technology company in North City. I had a phone call with their marketing director this morning, and the conversation seemed promising.”
Song Siheng relaxed his shoulders. “Didn’t expect we could crack such a tough nut.”
“It’s about the financial capability,” Li Ke pointed to a line of numbers on the document. “I don’t think any company in the market would be willing to offer such a high price as yours.”
Song Siheng chuckled, no longer continuing the conversation. Li Ke picked up his water cup to leave, but he was stopped by Song Siheng.
“What competitions has the Liyuan Sports Center hosted in recent years?” Song Siheng asked out of the blue.
Li Ke was caught off guard by the sudden question. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious,” Song Siheng replied casually.
“Liyuan has hosted many competitions. In the summer, there are national competitions for swimming, diving, synchronized swimming, and in the winter, the branches have also hosted short track speed skating competitions. Do you need me to provide a detailed list?” Li Ke explained.
“Forget it, no need,” Song Siheng shook his head.
End-of-year settlement had made the company busy. Song Siheng had to deal with piles of documents every day.
Although the company’s profits for the year were acceptable, unplanned expenses for next year’s market expansion had led to a slight decline in overall revenue compared to the previous year. However, Song Siheng wasn’t worried at all.
If they could successfully obtain the qualification for medical equipment next year and expand the line of intelligent wearable devices, the company’s profits could increase tenfold.
On Friday night, Song Siheng went to the tennis club as usual. Due to recent business trips and schedule changes, he hadn’t practiced for a long time.
When he arrived at the tennis court, a few shadowless lamps were lit, illuminating the court like daylight, and the coach was sitting on the sidelines waiting for him.
“Mr. Song, long time no see,” the coach greeted him as soon as he entered.
Song Siheng nodded and put down his tennis bag without saying much. “Let’s begin.”
Side step, swing, hit the ball. Quick steps back into position, continue swinging.
The yellow-green ball flew in arcs through the air, hitting the light blue ground, bouncing back, touching the net, and returning.
Song Siheng quickly regained his training rhythm, his body remembering the landing point of each ball and the corresponding footwork.
“Your hitting quality is very high today,” the coach stood on the opposite side of the net, smiling and giving him a thumbs up.
Song Siheng shook his head to flick away the sweat from his hair and continued to hold the racket, ready to return the ball.
An hour of training passed quickly. It had been a while since Song Siheng had practiced, and after completing one session, he felt some muscle reactions in his knees and shoulders.
He put away his racket, walked to the sidelines, and picked up his usual towel to wipe away the sweat.
“We’ll stick to the old schedule on Sunday,” Song Siheng said after finishing his water, looking at the coach.
The coach stood by his side, hesitant to speak. “Um, Mr. Song…”
Song Siheng closed the bottle cap, turned to look at him, “What’s wrong?”
“Actually, I need to explain something to you today. I’m really sorry, but I signed with a new club a few days ago, and I might have to go to the north with the team later. I probably won’t be back within half a year, so I have to temporarily suspend your training sessions. As for the fees, you don’t need to worry. I’ll refund you according to the number of sessions.”
Song Siheng remained silent for a moment before finally waving his hand, “I see.”
The coach wanted to say something more, but Song Siheng had already slung his tennis bag over his shoulder and was preparing to leave. In the end, the coach could only remain silent.
Pushing open the door of the tennis court, Song Siheng turned his right shoulder a bit, then suddenly turned back, “By the way, do you have a physiotherapist here?”
The coach was a bit bewildered, pursing his lips before remembering to respond, “Yes, we do, but he recently went overseas with a professional team. If you need one, shall I make an appointment for you?”
Song Siheng pondered for a moment, “Never mind. Maybe another time.”
“Alright. Let me walk you out.”
Jiangcheng rarely saw snow, but as December approached, the temperature began to drop significantly. Ginkgo leaves scattered on the road, waiting for the municipal workers to come and clean them up. Couples hugged each other by the dim streetlights, their heads close together, seemingly kissing.
However, their figures blocked Song Siheng’s way out of the parking space.
Song Siheng impatiently flicked the headlights, and only then did they release their hands in surprise, glanced at him, and quickly walked to the other end of the road.
Song Siheng’s phone was placed on the center console, indicating two new unread messages. He swiped the screen and opened one.
It was Li Ke sending next week’s meeting schedule. Song Siheng replied with an OK and then turned off the screen again.
The car had already started, and Song Siheng was ready to go. But before stepping on the gas, he picked up his locked phone again, opened a chat window, typed a line, and sent it.
—Tomorrow night at eight. Same place.
Recipient: Yang.
The screen remained still for a while, about seven or eight minutes. Then, a reply came with two words.
—Okay ^^
Familiar little angles indicating a pleasing smiley face.
Song Siheng exhaled a breath, stepped on the gas, and sped onto the main road.
He had booked the suite on the top floor of the hotel with his personal credit card on a recurring basis. Only he and Yang Xiaobei could swipe their cards to enter the room every weekend.
Saturday night, exactly at eight o’clock.
Song Siheng stepped into the elevator, and the display screen showed the numbers jumping, finally stopping at 18. The door of the carriage opened slowly, and Song Siheng walked out. He looked down the corridor but saw no one on the soft carpet.
He glanced at his wrist, and it was already two minutes past eight.
Yang Xiaobei was late again.
He didn’t wait for him outside the door but directly swiped the room card and walked into the room.
The living room was still the same, with two sofas facing each other and light gray walls. But there was no one there.
Song Siheng took off his coat and hung it in the closet, then sat on the familiar sofa. He placed his phone on the coffee table in the middle, and the screen remained dark.
It wasn’t until a quarter of an hour later that he heard the faint sound of the card being swiped at the door.
Beep—
Song Siheng subconsciously turned his head to look, and the door opened. A person wrapped tightly in clothes walked in.
What’s he up to? Pretending to be a big star here?
Yang Xiaobei took off his hat, scarf, and thick coat, rubbed his cheeks with his palms, then smiled at Song Siheng, “Sorry, I came by subway and was a bit late.”
He plopped down next to Song Siheng, “Not mad, are you?”
Song Siheng had passed the stage of being angry with him for everything, so he replied calmly, “Not really.”
Yang Xiaobei reached out as if to pat him on the shoulder. But Song Siheng caught a glimpse of a purplish needle mark on the back of his hand.
He asked casually, “What’s that?”
Yang Xiaobei noticed his gaze, paused for a few seconds, then smiled, “Didn’t I just come back from North city a few days ago? Probably caught a cold when I got back. I had a fever for a couple of days and coughed my lungs out.”
After saying that, he held his chest as if in pain, with big watery eyes.
Song Siheng grabbed his wrist and gave him a look.
Yang Xiaobei immediately understood, patted his chest, and said, “Don’t worry. I’m already fine. It’s not contagious, not contagious.”
Their bodies were already familiar with each other. After the main light in the bedroom was turned off, only the sound of breathing and intermittent moans remained.
But on this day, Yang Xiaobei was noticeably gentler, perhaps sensing Song Siheng’s discomfort after exercising.
The long breaths were mixed into the dim light of the night lamp. Unlike usual, after it was over this time, Song Siheng didn’t fall asleep but woke up quickly. He sat leaning on the edge of the bed and picked up his phone from the bedside table.
Yang Xiaobei leaned over, resting his head on his shoulder, “You’re really busy.”
There was even a hint of complaint in his tone.
Song Siheng glanced at him, moved his head away, and sent a voice message to someone on WeChat, “Help me arrange a meeting with coaches from other clubs. If there’s a suitable one, give me their business card.”
Yang Xiaobei leaned closer again, pressing his hand down, “A coach? What do you want to practice?”
Song Siheng casually replied, “Tennis. Can you play?”
Yang Xiaobei laughed, pressing his phone, “I don’t know how to play tennis. But I can teach you something else for free.”
Song Siheng glanced at him, guessing that this guy had some strange idea in his mind again, and didn’t respond.
“I’m serious. The kind you go to the gym for. I’ll teach you, I guarantee it’ll be more professional than the coach you hire.”
The next day, at two thirty in the afternoon, on the outskirts of Jiangcheng.
Song Siheng, with his arms crossed, stood in front of an old swimming pool and asked, “Here?”
Yang Xiaobei patted the backpack behind him, “Yes, let’s go. I’ve prepared swimming trunks for you.”