QT: The Rescue Of The Miserable Bigshots-Chapter 340 - 11.13

"What’s the name of your novel? I want to read it too."

Zhou Mushen asked casually, clearly looking for a legitimate way to bring up novels.

"It’s called... QT: The Rescue of the Miserable Bigshots. You want to read it? It’s a BL novel."

Jiang Jiamian raised an eyebrow. He knew exactly what Zhou Mushen was doing and deliberately avoided mentioning his current work, A Drunken Song of Swords, to prevent him from steering the conversation there.

Oh? Pretending you don’t know?

Keep pretending.

Sure enough, Zhou Mushen, who knew very well what Jiang Jiamian was writing, was genuinely stunned.

"Rescue of the Miserable Bigshots?" He repeated.

Had this guy secretly started a new book?

Jiang Jiamian repeated calmly, "QT: The Rescue of the Miserable Bigshots. Pen name: Lone Commander. Will you support me? Welcome, welcome!"

Zhou Mushen: "..."

So he really was supposed to keep A Drunken Song of Swords completely to himself?

However...

Zhou Mushen’s gaze darkened slightly.

This Rescue of the Miserable Bigshots, why did just hearing the title make his heart tremble? A strange sense of familiarity flashed through his mind.

He felt an inexplicable longing.

He even felt impatient to read it. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

"Which website?" He asked.

Zhou Mushen was certain that since Jiang Jiamian had changed pen names and genres, he must have switched platforms as well. After all, the site where A Drunken Song of Swords was published didn’t focus on hosting BL novels.

Jiang Jiamian looked at him and said clearly, "Chrysanthemum Novels."

Zhou Mushen lowered his eyes, silently repeating the words."Chrysanthemum Novels... alright. I’ll remember that."

Jiang Jiamian shrugged, crossed his legs, and leaned back lazily. "It’s useless even if you remember it. I’m still drafting. It hasn’t been published yet."

A trace of genuine disappointment flashed across Zhou Mushen’s face, but he quickly seized another opening.

"So what about now?" He asked. "What book are you serializing? I heard your voice call with the editor yesterday. Who plagiarized you?"

Jiang Jiamian: "..."

Really straightforward.

He coughed lightly. "Why do you care so much? Is this part of your professional ethics?"

Zhou Mushen replied calmly, "I also like reading novels. I read whoever’s. Since you’re my employer, I might as well support your work."

Jiang Jiamian: "..."

Support my ass.

If you have spare money, you might as well transfer it directly to me and save the platform from taking a cut.

Why are you so stubborn? Jiang Jiamian thought. If you really want to support me, just send me the money.

He said it shamelessly.

"Alright." Zhou Mushen chuckled softly at his skinny logic. "But I can’t spend money without reading the book. You still have to tell me the title."

Jiang Jiamian’s lips twitched. "A Drunken Song of Swords. Go read it."

Zhou Mushen’s smile deepened as he looked at his barely concealed face. "Okay, okay, I will definitely support your career and contribute to your novel. By the way, I’m really looking forward to your new book, ’QT: The Rescue Of The Miserable Bigshots’. Just by looking at the title, you can tell the Miserable Bigshot must be pretty unfortunate. And who will rescue them? Your protagonist?"

Jiang Jiamian’s expression twisted slightly, "No. I misspoke. The real title is Miserable Bigshots: Every Day a Way to Die. What do you think?"

Zhou Mushen: "..."

A chill ran down his spine.

Some deep, instinctive survival mechanism made him laugh dryly. "Pretty good. Pretty good. Even better than the last one... though it doesn’t sound very realistic."

Jiang Jiamian only smiled maliciously, as if some things didn’t need to sound realistic to eventually become real.

"Cough, cough... cough, cough..."

Night fell once more, and Zhou Mushen’s coughing grew so severe it sounded heart-wrenching.

Jiang Jiamian raised an eyebrow. "What’s wrong with you?"

Zhou Mushen frowned lightly. "I probably caught a cold last night. I didn’t get a chance to rest today either, so it got worse... I feel very hot. I might have a fever."

Jiang Jiamian replied expressionlessly, "A fever? Then you should go to the hospital for a checkup. Also, if you keep working here while sick, first, it’s easy to infect me, your employer, and second, it’ll make me look like a heartless capitalist who forces employees to work even when they have a fever."

He paused, then concluded decisively, "I’ll contact your company and have you replaced. You go back and rest."

Zhou Mushen’s eyes flickered. He raised a hand and touched his forehead. "It doesn’t seem very serious... I don’t think the fever is high. If there’s a comfortable place where I can get a good night’s sleep, I should be fine by morning. I can continue providing you with comprehensive, top-quality service."

Jiang Jiamian knew exactly what he was planning.

He turned and walked toward the bedroom. "Sofa or a makeshift bed. Pick whichever’s more comfortable. Ah, probably the sofa."

Zhou Mushen followed immediately. "The makeshift bed. I’ll sleep on the floor beside your bed. That way, if you need anything at night, I can provide full-time butler service anytime, anywhere."

Jiang Jiamian: "..."

How do you manage to say something so shameless with such a serious, weak, and delicate face?

Jiang Jiamian chuckled. "Whether I’ll experience your all-around service, I don’t know. But one thing is very clear."

Zhou Mushen asked weakly, "What is it?"

Jiang Jiamian pointed to the outer side of the bed. "When I get up to use the bathroom at night, I’ll definitely step over you. I’m half asleep when I wake up, and I forget things easily. There are only two outcomes: either I step on you, or you trip me."

Zhou Mushen blinked, very reasonable. "I see your bed is quite wide. How about we squeeze in?"

Jiang Jiamian raised his chin and walked into the room first. "Fine. I’ll reluctantly agree, only because you’re sick tonight. Tomorrow, once you’re better, buy yourself a blanket and go back to sleeping on the sofa."

Zhou Mushen followed obediently, smiling silently.

He understood.

This cold and fever was definitely not getting better tomorrow.

A serious illness like a cold can last a year or two, right?

Yeah.

Very normal.

Extremely normal.

Then Zhou Mushen, whose mind was already racing ahead, froze as Jiang Jiamian walked to the bedside and swiftly drew an imaginary vertical line across the bed with his arm, from head to foot.

A nonexistent boundary split the 1.8-meter-wide bed into two parts: about 50 centimeters on the outside, and 1.3 meters on the inside.

Jiang Jiamian put his hands on his hips and smiled brightly, eyes crinkling. "You sleep on the left. I’ll sleep on the inside. This is your space. If you dare move even one centimeter over, you won’t even have a sofa tomorrow."

Zhou Mushen stared at the narrow strip of bed, his expression stiffening slightly. "But... this space... even if I lie flat, I might not fit."

Jiang Jiamian looked indifferent. "If it’s not enough, then there’s no space. You can sleep on the floor. But to avoid you tripping me at night, you’ll have to sleep in another room. The villa has plenty of empty rooms, don’t be shy."

Zhou Mushen didn’t hesitate for a second. He immediately sat down on the bed.

Anyway, he’d take the bed first and worry about the rest later.

Today it was fifty centimeters.

Tomorrow, maybe sixty.

The day after... perhaps twenty more.

He wasn’t in a hurry.