He Could Be His Own Type of Girl

Wen Rui woke up snuggled under the blankets, which confused him. He thought he'd let his phone slip from his fingers and onto the plush bedside rug before shutting his eyes. But now, the phone was charging on his bedside table and he was nestled under the covers.

Maybe he'd been so distraught yesterday night that he forgot that he'd done some of those things. He was currently suffering from amnesia, anyway, hadn't Dr Li said that there may be new instances of memory loss if his condition worsened?

If it happens again, he'd better make another appointment to get his head checked.

For a while, Wen Rui just lay there staring at the wall in quiet contemplation. He didn't feel motivated to do anything, head and heart empty as he willed himself not to think about anything that wasn't the immediate here and now. But unfortunately, his stomach was also empty and took the opportunity to let out an enormous grumble. Wen Rui didn't feel like he had any appetite, but he had a propensity for gastritis and knew that skipping meals would be a bad idea.

In the past, he'd rarely missed meals because his mother had been around to monitor him. And after shifting into the high school dorms, his roommates, including Xu Mushen, had continued where she'd left off. He'd been the pampered one in their friend group, and even in their cohort. Everyone had known about the little prince's troublesome tummy and had gone out of their way to take care of it for him. From girls he didn't know leaving him breakfast on the desk to his close group of classmates who would queue to buy lunch for him whenever he was held up by class monitor duties.

Even Zhou Ye had, on that one occasion, tossed him a wrapped chocolate bun. He'd caught Wen Rui staying back in the student council office during dinner time to sort through the paperwork. After debating the odds of Zhou Ye faking the 7/11 packaging just so he could poison Wen Rui, Wen Rui had decided that it was most probably safe and had eaten it.

…and then had promptly regretted the next morning, when Zhou Ye removed half his VP duties from him to give to Secretary Su Jiali instead. Because of course, Zhou Ye had the right to. Wen Rui had lost the position of student council president to him by one vote, so he had to accept Zhou Ye misusing his authority just to curry favour with Wen Rui's goddess. Wen Rui had wished he'd thrown the bread into the bin right in front of Zhou Ye's annoying face.

That incident, which had happened so many years ago, was still fresh in Wen Rui's mind like it'd been just yesterday. But thinking about it now, he felt like a lot of his actions and mentality back then were just so…childish.

His stomach grumbled again, this time with a threatening acidic feeling at the top of his belly. Wen Rui gave in to its unreasonable demands and hauled himself out of bed blearily.

A matronly housekeeper was bustling about downstairs when Wen Rui peeked his head out of the door. The bedrooms of the penthouse apartment were all located on the mezzanine level, so she had a clear view of his messy bedhead and dishevelled clothes from where she stood just underneath.

"Good morning, Young Master Wen!" she greeted with a kind smile. "I've already done all the preparations to make your deep-fried dough sticks and I just need to pop them in the pan now! There's also freshly-blended soy milk, sweetened to your liking. Would you a glass of that first?"

Wen Rui was surprised by how familiar she was with his dietary preferences, which were considered unconventional for the region. SH City, where he was born, was in the south of the country. Here, it was traditional to enjoy savoury instead of sweet soy milk at breakfast, with some shrimp, spring onions, soy sauce, and vinegar even. But Wen Rui had always had a sweet tooth and preferred the style of the north.

Did he come home to this house frequently enough that the housekeeper would know what to cook for him?

He thanked the housekeeper and went back into his ensuite to freshen up. While brushing his teeth, he scrutinised his reflection in the mirror. Now that he'd seen it once or twice, his older looks weren't so shocking to him anymore. It was still a recognisable face in the mirror, just with less baby fat on his cheeks and less sparkle in his eyes.

But there were some changes too, that he wasn't sure he liked. His face seemed to have gone from cherubic pretty to breathtakingly beautiful that surpassed even gender constraints. He didn't want to admit it but, if he just grew his hair out a little more and donned a dress, he might even quite happily be his own type of 'girl'.

He looked like his mother. This was both a good and bad revelation.

[Don't. Think. About. Her.]

His svelte waistline and slender soft arms also triggered deep feelings of dismay. They didn't look like they'd changed much since 18, would still fit into the same basketball jersey size. In other words, he would still swim in stupid Zhou Ye's stupid jersey, because Wen Rui was a slender little prince and Zhou Ye was everyone's teenage wet dream, with his lean and sinewy muscles that, according to the girls gushing at the courts, 'were justttt right for a possessive hug'.

'JUSt rIghTtTtT.' He'd privately called Zhou Ye 'Goldilocks Ye' in his head for the entire year after that.

A polite knock on his bedroom door interrupted his musings.

"Young Master Wen? Breakfast is ready in the dining room!"

He called out his acknowledgement and headed over to the walk-in wardrobe.

Yesterday, he hadn't been in the right frame of mind to explore his room properly, so he hadn't been in there yet. But judging by the nightmare hoodie-jeans combo Zhou Ye had presented him with for the hospital trip, Wen Rui didn't have any high hopes.

…to be honest, he wasn't in the right frame of mind today either. Once upon a time, his mother had been the Anna Wintour of his life, editing his fashion sense via her black credit card until her precious son was literally and figuratively en Vogue. As in, he'd been asked to model for the country's edition of the magazine because he was an icon of the country's high society circles.

But back then, Wen Rui had refused, not wanting to put himself on display for the scrutiny of the public eye.

How times changed.

The selection of clothes inside the 4 x 4 walk-in turned out to be less horrific than Wen Rui had expected, but only just barely. There were more than just eye-searing neon hoodies, though, so either Zhou Ye had just waltzed in and grabbed the first two things his hands touched yesterday, or he'd purposely dressed Wen Rui in the most hideous outfit he could find.

After a long pause, Wen Rui grabbed a Dior white silk dress shirt ornamented with a bright floral print in hues of reds, oranges, yellows, blues, and purples. It was really loud but still elegant, and was a piece that he would have been happy to wear even at 18. He paired this off with a pair of loose black slacks for a more casual vibe. Checking himself out one last time in satisfaction, he pulled his hair into a small ponytail at the nape of his neck and walked out.

The housekeeper beamed at him when he entered the dining room. She didn't comment on how long it'd taken him to find the place, and he wasn't sure whether she'd been informed that he was amnesiac or if she was just that patient with all dilly-dallying young masters.

"Here you go! Please enjoy."

The food was still piping hot. She'd outdone herself making sure that he'd been delivered the best, even if it were for something like a simple breakfast that could be bought at the cost of spare change from a roadside stall.

Although, given the state of Wen Rui's life savings, perhaps he shouldn't be so disdainful of roadside stalls anymore. That might very well be his go-to for meals in the future, once Zhou Ye divorces him.

Yes, Wen Rui was convinced that this marriage had to be the product of a business alliance that the older generation had forced upon them. He'd been planning on asking his mother for information, but now that…that wasn't possible anymore, and his father was even less of an option by the sound of it, there was only one other party that he could speak to.

But to do that, he had to catch hold of Zhou Ye first. And he'd no idea where the man had gone. Wasn't it a Saturday today? But the prodigious grandson of the Zhou Group's founder probably had more important things to do than laze around in the common areas of his house like a bum. Like…well, like Wen Rui.

"Auntie?" he called out. He wished he could remember her family name at least but nothing came to mind.

"What is it?" she said kindly. "Would Young Master Wen like another helping?" An entire glass jar of soy milk seemed to materialise out of nowhere as she aimed for his cup with a precision that would put some FPS game streamers to shame.

He quickly stopped her from refilling it. This was his third—no, fourth round of soy milk already, the housekeeper managing to top it up without him noticing a couple of times.

"That's okay," he said, "I'm really full, thank you for the lovely meal."

"Aiya, Young Master, you're still too skinny! I—"

"Auntie, did Zhou Ye leave for work already?"

The housekeeper's well-meaning tirade on his weight was successfully deflected. "Hmm, I didn't see Young Master Zhou this morning," she said with a growing frown. "He's usually done with his morning gym routine by now. Perhaps he stayed overnight at the office?"