President Ji’s Cat - Chapter 18

Ji Chufeng was greatly looking forward to her dinner with Fu Sixue—an anticipation reflected in the fact that she made a special trip home after work to change her clothes.

She traded her restrictive business suit for casual wear.

The temperature in Yanjing had dropped significantly. She wore a turtleneck sweater as a base layer with an overcoat on top, which made her figure look even more slender. She intentionally adjusted her makeup, choosing a warm-toned lipstick so she wouldn’t look too cold, adding a touch of warmth to the winter night.

She thought she had arrived early enough, but she found Fu Sixue already waiting in the private room. When the door opened and Fu Sixue saw her, a flash of surprise crossed the actress’s eyes.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Ji Chufeng said as she took her seat.

“You aren’t late; I arrived early.” Fu Sixue pushed the menu toward her. Ji Chufeng noticed that the utensils in front of her had already been sterilized with hot water and set out.

“Even so,” Ji Chufeng offered a graceful smile, “I feel bad making a lady wait for me.”

“…” A gentlemanly touch at just the right moment always made Fu Sixue feel that the other woman was a master at flirting. She didn’t bite, instead steering the conversation toward ordering.

Before dinner, Fu Sixue had clearly done her homework, recommending several signature dishes. Two of them happened to be favorites of Ji Chufeng, which made the President even more pleased.

After ordering, Ji Chufeng was about to find a topic of conversation when she saw Fu Sixue pull a white paper bag from the chair beside her.

Just as Ji Chufeng was excitedly wondering if it was a gift prepared for her, Fu Sixue spoke, inadvertently dousing her with a bucket of cold water.

“President Ji.” Fu Sixue pushed the bag toward her. “This is your blazer.”

Ji Chufeng took it and peeked inside. It was indeed her white suit jacket. The fact that it wasn’t a gift left the President feeling a twinge of disappointment.

Fu Sixue continued: “I’ve already had it cleaned.” Yesterday, she had intended to have her assistant return it, but she noticed a small smudge of unknown origin that was quite conspicuous against the white fabric. Unsure if she had caused it accidentally, she sent it out to be cleaned just to be safe.

Ji Chufeng instinctively assumed: “You washed it for me?”

Just as she was about to praise the “little cat” for being domestic, Fu Sixue replied matter-of-factly: “I sent it to the dry cleaners.”

“…” Fine then.

The jacket smelled of fresh laundry detergent. She couldn’t help but let her inner thoughts slip out: “It doesn’t have your scent on it anymore. What a pity.”

“…” Fu Sixue looked at her, a hint of disdain appearing in her calm eyes. “Are you a pervert?”

“No,” Ji Chufeng replied solemnly as she set the bag aside. “I just think your perfume smells very nice.”

She couldn’t quite identify the notes in Fu Sixue’s perfume; she only knew it was comfortable, smelling sweet without being cloying.

The food at the restaurant was excellent, and the presentation was impeccable. Ji Chufeng thoroughly enjoyed the meal. They chatted intermittently about work, and it was clear that Fu Sixue was still reserved. Ji Chufeng wasn’t in a hurry, guiding the conversation step-by-step to create a comfortable dining atmosphere while quietly observing her companion.

She had re-watched Fu Sixue’s debut work a few days ago. Back then, Fu Sixue was only sixteen but already remarkably striking. That unique maidenly purity had hit Ji Chufeng through the screen all over again after many years.

A decade later, Fu Sixue’s face seemed barely changed, possessing a high level of distinctiveness compared to the increasingly cookie-cutter “influencer faces” of today. Her temperament had grown more steady, and every gesture radiated composed elegance.

Today, she also wore a turtleneck. The collar extended from her collarbone to her chin, completely veiling her beautiful clavicle and swan-like neck, much to Ji Chufeng’s regret.

“…” Realizing her thoughts were a bit rude, Ji Chufeng quickly pulled herself away from her reverie. She cleared her throat and found a random topic: “Shen Tang mentioned she found a variety show for you. She wants you to show your face there first.”

“The contract is to be signed next week.”

Ji Chufeng continued: “The show has a good reputation. It’ll be good for you to go on and build up some popularity.” She paused, then asked: “When was the last time you were on a variety show?”

She expected Fu Sixue to say a few months ago, or perhaps a year or two.

She didn’t expect her to say: “This will be my first time.”

“???” Doubt nearly overflowed from Ji Chufeng’s eyes.

In the dozen years since her debut, Fu Sixue had never been on a variety show. In the past, her management felt her popularity was high enough that she didn’t need variety shows to get exposure; besides, there was the risk of malicious editing by the production crew. Later, after she joined Xingyao, she wanted to take them, but as her popularity declined, the invitations stopped coming.

Sensing her confusion, Fu Sixue said: “I used to have so many assignments I couldn’t keep up. I turned down many variety programs.”

Ji Chufeng nodded. She knew Fu Sixue had few assignments now, but she hadn’t realized it was that few. “It’s fine. Shen Tang will go with you. If anything happens, find her.”

Fu Sixue gave a soft “mm,” her expression unreadable. Just as Ji Chufeng was about to speak, the phone on the table rang. It was an unsaved number. She hesitated for two seconds before answering.

It was the hospital. The moment the caller identified themselves, Ji Chufeng’s face darkened instantly, and the atmosphere in the private room turned heavy.

Feeling the drop in pressure, Fu Sixue couldn’t help but look up. Ji Chufeng’s expression was grim—a complete 180 from before the call. She gathered that it was about Chairman Ji.

Fu Sixue had learned a bit about Ji Chufeng’s background over the last few days—how she had lived abroad and only returned because her father was critically ill. She had assumed they were close, but it seemed that wasn’t the case.

Ji Chufeng didn’t try to hide the conversation, so Fu Sixue continued eating quietly while the words drifted into her ears.

The hospital staff said Ji Shengjun was emotionally unstable, constantly calling Ji Chufeng’s name and hoping his daughter would come see him. Hearing this, Ji Chufeng let out a cold laugh, as if she had heard a hilarious joke.

“I’m busy,” she said coldly, her voice practically freezing through the receiver.

Ji Chufeng wasn’t lying; she was busy—busy eating with Fu Sixue. Between her father and Fu Sixue, she felt the person in front of her was far more important. As for that man, she didn’t even want to spare him a glance. If he hadn’t discovered that Ji Chengye wasn’t his biological son, would he be this persistent? She hadn’t forgotten how he called her an “ungrateful wretch.”

The doctor didn’t give up, pressing her to come to the hospital just so he could complete his task. Ji Chufeng shifted her posture, propping her hand under her elbow, and suddenly wore a playful smile.

That smile was more frightening than a scowl.

“Fine, I understand.”

She hung up after hearing a sigh of relief on the other end. She then deftly sent a message to the butler, telling him to send Ji Shengjun’s “legally wedded wife” and “biological son” to visit him instead.

From hanging up to sending the message, less than two minutes had passed. She then placed her phone back on the table and leisurely took a sip of soup, acting as if she had no intention of leaving.

Fu Sixue looked at her. Seeing she wasn’t leaving, she couldn’t help but say: “President Ji, if you have business, please go ahead.”

“It’s nothing major,” Ji Chufeng said dismissively as she set her bowl down. She knew Fu Sixue had overheard the call and expected the actress to persuade her to go.

But Fu Sixue only gave her a few complicated looks and ultimately said nothing. This was for the best; Ji Chufeng didn’t want Ji Shengjun’s affairs to ruin their evening. She proactively changed the subject: “Have you never been to this place before?”

“This is the first time.”

“Then what do you usually eat? Do you have any recommended restaurants?”

“No,” Fu Sixue answered bluntly. She didn’t do social engagements and had no dating life; she had only been to a handful of restaurants in this area.

Hearing this, Ji Chufeng was visibly stifled for a second. To show she wasn’t just evading the topic, Fu Sixue added: “I rarely eat out.”

Ji Chufeng’s interest was piqued. “You cook at home?”

Fu Sixue gave an “mm.” Ji Chufeng quickly smiled and said: “It would be wonderful to taste your cooking sometime.”

To this, Fu Sixue only gave a polite smile and remained silent—a subtle refusal.

Ji Chufeng didn’t push. They chatted about other things before calling for the check. When they reached the cashier, they were told the bill had already been settled.

“The lady beside you already paid.”

“…” Fu Sixue looked genuinely surprised. She turned to Ji Chufeng. “When did you…”

She was about to ask when she paid, then remembered Ji Chufeng had stepped out for a moment during the meal, still holding her phone.

Coming out of the restaurant, the two stood by the roadside, away from the interior noise. Fu Sixue said: “President Ji, wasn’t I supposed to be the one treating?”

She was very confused. This person had clearly told her to treat, yet she settled the bill herself. What kind of move was that?

Ji Chufeng looked at her under the streetlights. Fu Sixue was slightly frowning, clearly unhappy about the bill situation.

“Since it’s our first dinner, it’s better if I treat,” Ji Chufeng said.

Whether it was the first time or the hundredth, President Ji wanted to be the one to pay. It just depended on whether the person in front of her would be willing to eat with her again next time.

Fu Sixue admitted that the person before her had a charming smile and that the act of paying was gentlemanly. However, one thing was one thing; she didn’t want to owe anyone.

“I’ll treat you next time,” she said stubbornly, determined to pay back the meal.

“Sure,” Ji Chufeng smiled. “Next time, let’s not eat out. Cook for me instead.”

“…” For a moment, Fu Sixue felt she had been played. “We’ll see,” she replied, without giving a definite answer.

Ji Chufeng didn’t press her. She took her car keys from her coat pocket. A silver-gray sports car parked ahead of them slowly opened its doors, like two metallic wings rising into the air. “I’ll take you home.”

Fu Sixue hadn’t driven tonight, but she didn’t want to take Ji Chufeng’s car. Who knew what would happen? She always felt that being alone with Ji Chufeng was dangerous. She made up a random excuse: “I still have errands to run. I’ll take a taxi back myself.”

Ji Chufeng heard the rejection in her voice and didn’t force it. She proactively stood by the roadside with her to wait for a taxi.

“President Ji, you should head back. I can manage on my own.”

“It’s fine,” Ji Chufeng said. “I’m not comfortable leaving you alone.”

If she were recognized, it would inevitably cause a stir—in which case Ji Chufeng could still toss her into the car and drive off. Even if she wasn’t recognized, a random drunk passing by would be a headache.

Fu Sixue wanted to say that the world wasn’t that dangerous, but seeing Ji Chufeng’s persistence, she fell silent. After a short wait, a taxi arrived and stopped in front of them.

Fu Sixue reached for the door, but Ji Chufeng grabbed the handle first, opening it for her. “Get in.”

Her movements hesitated for half a second. Her raised hand retracted, and she bent over to sit inside. As she got in, she noticed Ji Chufeng used her hand to shield the door frame to prevent her from hitting her head. It was a very thoughtful gesture, but who knew how many women she had been this considerate to?

Fu Sixue composed herself. Facing President Ji, who was waving goodbye through the window, she only slightly raised her hand.

Before the car pulled away, she heard Ji Chufeng say: “Be safe. Message me when you get home.”

The car slowly started, and the scenery outside began to recede. Fu Sixue sat in the back, staring at the back of the passenger seat for a few seconds. She quietly turned her head to look back.

Ji Chufeng was still standing there, her posture as straight as ever. For some reason, Fu Sixue thought she looked a little lonely.