Chapter 49: I Don't Want to Manage You, I Only Want to Be Managed by You

Ying Jing leaned toward his seat.

"What time did you go to sleep that night!" She had already been in bed when she woke up, and she felt quite refreshed.

By that time, Wen Fucheng was no longer at home; he had already gone to the company.

The man, who had been in a light slumber, opened his eyes upon hearing her speak.

He looked at the delicate girl beside him.

"If you feel guilty, lend me your shoulder to lean on."

As the words fell, Wen Fucheng’s head was already tilted, resting on Ying Jing’s left shoulder.

Ying Jing immediately straightened her back so he could lean more comfortably.

The carriage fell silent instantly.

Ying Jing replied to Ying Zenan’s message, saying she was already on her way.

An hour later, the car stopped inside the villa estate.

Luxury cars were gathered all around, and the stars were shining bright.

The setup was quite impressive.

There were many reporters guarding the outside of the villa; it was said that many artists were coming tonight to show their support.

Xie Weisi was the first to recognize Wen Fucheng’s car.

Ying Jing glanced at the sleeping man, feeling conflicted about whether or not to wake him.

She looked at Zhang Yang with a pleading gaze, but Zhang Yang spread his hands helplessly, using his eyes to silently tell Ying Jing that he couldn't do anything either.

After that, he opened the car door and slipped away faster than a rabbit.

Along the way, he grabbed Xie Weisi, who was already walking toward the parking lot.

In the cramped space, only the two of them remained, their proximity so close that their breathing was intertwined.

After staying there for a while, she felt a bit hot.

She shifted her body somewhat unnaturally.

The ticklish sensation of hair brushing against her neck made Ying Jing clench her small hands tightly; she almost tore the leather of the car seat.

"Wen..."

*Cough, cough.* Damn it, why was she getting social anxiety at a time like this?

Her mouth didn't seem to belong to her; she brewed over it for a long time but didn't know how to start.

"That..."

*Ahhhhh...* She just couldn't say it!

Sleep, just sleep. She would close her eyes and sleep too.

Let’s just both give up and rot together!

Just as Ying Jing was about to close her eyes, a soft chuckle came from her side, and a scorching breath landed on her ear, spreading across her entire neck.

She felt like a shrimp about to be boiled in a pot.

"You were awake the whole time?"

A moment of silence, until he said

"I never fell asleep."

Ying Jing wanted to find a hole to crawl into.

When he was busy, the car was one of the few places he could rest; occasionally, he would look at documents or handle some matters.

But to truly fall asleep, that was still not quite possible.

With Ying Jing there, it seemed he didn't need to hold on so tightly. Her shoulders weren't broad; one could even say they were very thin. Yet, that tiny little space was truly enough to support his entire being.

He leaned back again, this time changing his posture.

His forehead rested gently against Ying Jing’s shoulder, easing the headache that hadn't fully healed.

"Is it still very uncomfortable?"

"My head hurts a little."

"I’m never drinking milk tea again." At least, not at night.

In some matters, she was like a disobedient bad child, knowing full well what shouldn't be done yet doing it anyway. But he not only indulged her, he was even willing to accompany her.

"You can discipline me; I’ll listen to you."

Wen Fucheng was likely extremely uncomfortable, but he didn't want her to worry, so he just slowed his speech, pausing slightly before speaking to think about his wording.

"Is that so! But, that’s a bit hard to handle."

"What?" Ying Jing didn't hear the whole sentence clearly and leaned her ear closer—so close that Wen Fucheng could kiss her little ear the moment he opened his mouth.

"I said..." He was very uncomfortable and wanted to be close to her. Closer, until he buried himself in the crook of Ying Jing’s neck, greedily smelling the faint scent of perfume on her. "I said, I don't want to discipline you; I only want to be disciplined by you."

Ying Jing’s "wolf claws" were already struggling to contain themselves.

She couldn't take it anymore; someone get her a ventilator, fast.

If she had known Wen Fucheng was this good at acting spoiled, she would have slept with him in her past life, even at the risk of dying a hundred times over to kill the original novel's male lead.

"I’m a bit of a mess, and you’re more serious. It’s easy for you to learn bad habits by following me."

A long time later, Ying Jing bit the corner of the quilt and whimpered—who exactly ended up being corrupted?

Leaving the land of gentleness, Wen Fucheng resumed his usual expression.

He got out of the car and walked to the other side to open the door for Ying Jing. Ying Jing stepped out in five or six-centimeter heels, her skirt swaying...

Many people around had already noticed them.

Pointing and whispering continued incessantly.

Ying Zenan had been in the lobby, held up by someone for a chat, and just happened to bump into Ying Jing walking gracefully alongside Wen Fucheng as he came out.

Someone tell him how these two ended up together.

Stupid sister, why are you standing so close? Your hands are about to touch. Wen Fucheng, can’t you walk faster! Create some distance, hurry up and create some distance.

Ying Zenan wailed in his heart.

On the surface, he still had to pretend he didn't care.

"How did you two come together?"

Ying Jing had changed her clothes; it wasn't the outfit from before, and combined with the darkness of the night, he almost didn't recognize her if not for the streetlights.

At a glance, he felt something was off.

"We met on the way. Mr. Wen is handsome and kind-hearted, so he gave me a lift. Brother, you wouldn't mind, would you?"

With this said, if Ying Zenan were to say he minded, he would be labeled by the group of people around him as being at odds with Wen Fucheng by tomorrow. Word spreads fast, and since his company had such a large collaboration with the Wen family, there were plenty of people who were jealous of them lately.

Ying Zenan had to show the appropriate magnanimity.

"How could I? I should be thanking President Wen."

Upon hearing this, Ying Jing happily took Ying Zenan’s arm. "I knew it, Brother is the best. Brother often tells me that the person he admires most is Wen Fucheng, right?"

When had he ever said such a thing?

Was this sister intentionally digging a pit for him to jump into?

Yet, under the gaze of everyone, he still had to answer with a smile.

"Of course, President Wen is so outstanding." After saying this, Ying Zenan hurriedly pulled Ying Jing toward the lobby; if they stayed any longer, his family secrets would be overturned, and who knows what kind of things he might say that he’d regret later.

Ying Jing followed Ying Zenan, and while her brother wasn't looking, she glanced back inadvertently and gave a playful wink to the person still standing in place.

"Why didn't I see you wearing the outfit you had on earlier?"

"Oh, I accidentally snagged it on the way home, so I changed."

"When did you buy this one? I’ve never seen you wear it."

"Why are you asking so much? Of course you wouldn't know how many different styles of clothes a girl can stuff into her closet."

No matter what Ying Zenan said, Ying Jing always had a different excuse.

"Grandpa Ye and Uncle Ye were just asking about you earlier. Come with me to go say hello."

Ye Qingyu was standing beside his parents. His grandfather held a high position, and many people had come to offer birthday wishes. As the future heir of the Ye family, he stood by their side to thank them, taking the opportunity to introduce him to many people in the circle and expand his connections.

Seeing Ying Jing arrive, his thoughts were clearly no longer on that.

"Happy Birthday, Grandpa Ye. I wish you happiness as vast as the Eastern Sea and longevity as high as the Southern Mountains, may you live to be two hundred..." Ying Jing had a sweet mouth, coaxing the old man into a beaming smile.