Chapter 16: Meeting The Core Unit
"Tonight, you stop working at ten," Pei Hanchuan announced like his words were to be taken as law. In his defense, they pretty much were.
Zhiyi turned her head to look at Hanchuan. "Even if I’m not finished?"
"Especially if you’re not finished," he replied.
The pressure beneath her ribs increased at the thought of abandoning another incomplete calculation.
"What time should I begin again?"
"After you’ve slept for eight hours and eaten breakfast."
"That could delay the calculations until tomorrow afternoon."
"It will delay them until tomorrow afternoon."
Hanchuan’s answer closed the possibility of negotiation before Zhiyi could determine whether he intended to allow one or not. He normally didn’t. That was one of the most reassuring things about him.
He reached for her bag and removed the notebook. The ruler remained between the pages, preserving the exact point where her alarm had interrupted her. Hanchuan placed it on the low table beyond her reach.
"You can have it back after the meeting," he said, looking at her face.
"I need it for the meeting."
"You need breakfast first."
A covered tray occupied the end of the table. Hanchuan uncovered it, selected a sandwich containing egg, meat and no visible vegetables, then removed the paper wrapper before placing it in her hand.
Zhiyi looked at the sandwich.
"Eat," Hanchuan grunted.
She took a bite.
Across the room, Zeyu lowered his energy drink. "Is this how the two of you usually communicate?"
"Yes," Hanchuan replied, his eyes never leaving Zhiyi.
Zhiyi swallowed. "Sometimes I tell him what to do."
"Does he listen?"
"Yes."
"No," Hanchuan said at the same time.
Zhiyi looked back at him. "You do when the instruction is correct."
"That wasn’t the question he was asking," Hanchuan said, a soft smile on his face.
"Oh," she replied with a nod. She didn’t understand social cues or conversations with more than one meaning. But Hanchuan didn’t mind. He translated whatever she needed to know and that was more than enough.
Qinghe’s mouth moved, although he prevented it from becoming a full smile. He rose from the sofa and crossed the short distance between them.
"May I check your pulse?"
The request specified both the action and the person performing it. Zhiyi shifted the sandwich into her left hand and offered him her right.
Qinghe placed two fingers against the inside of her wrist. His touch was light and professional. He watched the second hand on his watch while Hanchuan kept one arm around her waist.
"Your pulse is elevated," Qinghe said. "When did you last drink water?"
"I’m uncertain when this body last had water. It has been seventeen hours since I woke, and I haven’t had any since then," Zhiyi replied after thinking about it for a moment. Was dehydration a condition that transcended rebirth? If so, he might be detecting that.
Qinghe’s fingers became still against her wrist.
Hanchuan reached for the water bottle on the tray before he could respond. He opened it and placed it in her hand while taking back the sandwich so that she could have a free hand.
"Drink."
Zhiyi drank.
Qinghe continued counting her pulse until she lowered the bottle. "How much coffee have you had?"
"None."
"There’s a cup for her," Hanchuan pointed out, looking at the table.
"Take it away," replied Qinghe, not looking over.
Hanchuan moved the coffee to his side of the table.
"I didn’t say I wanted it," Zhiyi told Qinghe.
"You were looking at it."
"I was identifying what Hanchuan moved."
Qinghe’s attention returned to her face. "How old are you?"
"Nineteen."
His gaze shifted to the arm secured around her waist.
"Finish the water before you drink anything containing caffeine," he said. "You also need food and at least eight hours of sleep."
"Hanchuan already provided those instructions."
Qinghe gave her a strange look that almost bordered on concern. "You know you don’t need him to decide when you’re allowed to eat or sleep."
"He didn’t tell me when I was allowed to sleep. He told me when I had to stop working."
"That isn’t better."
"It’s more precise."
Qinghe released her wrist and looked directly at Hanchuan.
"She isn’t one of your employees."
"I know."
"Then stop issuing orders as though every part of her day belongs to you."
"If I leave the endpoint open, she won’t stop."
Qinghe’s expression tightened. "How long have you known her?"
Hanchuan picked up the water bottle and returned it to Zhiyi’s hand.
"Finish it."
"Hanchuan."
"I’ll explain after she eats."
The refusal did nothing to improve Qinghe’s opinion of the situation.
Zhiyi didn’t understand the source of his objection. Hanchuan’s first instruction had been incomplete. He’d recognized the error and corrected it by supplying a stopping time.
That was useful.
Qinghe looked at her. "If you don’t want to follow one of his instructions, you don’t have to. He won’t hurt you. I promise you that."
Zhiyi was even more confused then every, her brows furrowing as she looked at the man. "I know."
Her immediate agreement appeared to surprise him.
"If an instruction is incorrect, I tell him," Zhiyi added.
"And if you simply don’t want to do it?"
The question opened into an undefined number of possible situations.
Which instruction?
Under what conditions?
Did not wanting to complete an action include physical pain, inconvenience or disagreement with the intended outcome? Was the action necessary for survival? Would refusing it transfer the responsibility to someone else?
Zhiyi stopped with the bottle halfway to her mouth.
Hanchuan’s hand moved once against her waist, pulling her out of her spinning thoughts. "Don’t answer that."
Qinghe’s jaw tightened.
But what he didn’t seem to understand was that Hanchuan wasn’t being abusive or domineering, he was simply preventing her from becoming trapped inside the question.
Qinghe saw only that he’d answered for her.
Zeyu leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "I’m beginning to think my questions about why she’s sitting on your lap won’t receive answers either."
"No," Hanchuan said.
"At least you’re consistent."
Zhiyi finished the water. Hanchuan accepted the empty bottle and replaced it with the sandwich.
She took another bite while looking across the room.
Zeyu’s appearance was less polished than the photographs in her stepsister’s bedroom. His hair hadn’t been arranged to appear disordered. It was genuinely disordered. His shirt remained fastened, although the upper buttons were open.
The photograph printed on the pillow had used a different shirt.
More precisely, it hadn’t used one.
Zeyu noticed her attention.
"Have we met?"
"No."
"Then why are you staring at me?"
"My stepsister sleeps with you."
Zeyu had started to take a drink before Zhiyi had responded, and the second she answered him, the energy drink left his mouth before he managed to swallow it, spewing out in a mist in front of him.
Shichen moved his coffee and Zhiyi’s notebook out of range as the liquid sprayed across the low table. Jingwei stepped away with enough speed to suggest he’d anticipated the possibility. Qinghe turned his face aside, but the sound that escaped him couldn’t be mistaken for a cough.
Zeyu coughed into his hand.