Chapter 9: The Sickly, Possessive CEO Is Quite Fun When He Sleeps

“The same old, nauseatingly familiar scent of green tea.”
Looking at the message she sent, it seemed cute at first glance, but beneath it was that self-important tone of command.
Did she still think I was the same lapdog as before, rushing over whenever she tossed a bit of sweetness my way?
With one hand tapping the keypad, I replied with just two words: idiot.
That felt good!
Then I exited the chat, deleted her from my contacts on WeChat and QQ, blocked her phone number, and even blacklisted her email—no more letting her indulge in her self-satisfied ramblings and waste my time.
After finishing all this, Chen Luo finally felt at ease and began to plan his next steps in entrepreneurship.
He glanced at the time on his phone: September 29th, 2013.
He closed his eyes and leaned back on the sofa, starting to organize all the business knowledge and information he had accumulated in his previous life.
This point in time was actually quite awkward. The golden age of traditional e-commerce had already passed; entering now wasn’t ideal. Sure, there was money to be made, but for Chen Luo’s current situation, there wasn’t enough capital to stock up and invest.
In the future, Chen Luo made money in e-commerce by riding the wave of live-stream sales during the short video boom, but right now, short videos were only just beginning, and he couldn’t possibly pour in enough funds to launch such a platform himself.
As for other avenues like online education or something similar to Baidu’s document library or encyclopedia, they weren’t impossible, but they required substantial technical support and weren’t suitable as a way to accumulate his first bucket of gold.
“Hmm, is there any other entry point suitable for building my first fortune?”
As Chen Luo pondered with his eyes closed, he suddenly felt a dampness on his chest.
He opened his eyes and looked down, only to see Wen Wan’s mouth slightly open, a trickle of drool at her lips.
“So even the most aloof goddess drools in her sleep? That contrast is strangely adorable.”
A smile unconsciously appeared on Chen Luo’s lips. He reached out and gently pushed Wen Wan’s chin so her lips would close.
“Mmm!” Wen Wan murmured softly as her chin was touched, her head instinctively tilting back just a little.
Her enticing red lips were only inches from Chen Luo, and her unguarded expression stirred something in him.
He recalled the kiss they shared in the car, the fierce and dominant hunger in it, how utterly intoxicating it had been. Now, seeing Wen Wan so quiet, he wondered if those lips tasted differently.
No! Chen Luo, snap out of it!
He hurriedly shook his head. In his previous life, he’d been bewitched by Tang Xiwei, that wretched woman, and never had intimate contact with any other woman.

He’d always been busy with business, rarely home, and even after marrying Tang Xiwei, their intimacy was sporadic and lackluster—she wouldn’t let him touch here, wouldn’t let him kiss there, the whole experience was pointless.
That’s why, now, after two lifetimes, Chen Luo felt so raw and awkward in the face of Wen Wan’s initiative and closeness.
“Mm, Chen Luo, don’t go, don’t leave.”
As Chen Luo shook his head, his body trembled slightly, and Wen Wan, still sleeping, seemed to sense his movement. Afraid he might leave, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and buried her head into the crook.
Her warm lips brushed gently against his Adam’s apple, strands of hair teasing his skin, sending shivers through him and making his heart itch with a strange tenderness.
“All right, I’m not leaving. I’m not leaving.”
Drooling in her sleep, clinging to someone for security, even talking in her dreams—these were the traits of a supposedly ice-cold goddess when she slept, and the contrast was striking.
“You really are adorable when you’re asleep.”
Chen Luo propped up Wen Wan’s back with his left arm, gently patting her. Soon, Wen Wan relaxed, her grip loosening as she slipped back into deep sleep.
Good, time to get back to planning.
At present, he didn’t even have enough funds for proper startup capital, so he needed something with exponential returns—but those kinds of projects usually landed you in prison.
There had to be a way.
“Buzz!” The phone vibrated again. He picked it up and saw a message from Liu Hao.
[Bro Luo, the dorm’s curfew is coming up. Are you coming back or not?]
Chen Luo glanced at Wen Wan sleeping soundly and replied,
[I’m spending the night outside. Don’t bother keeping the door open for me.]
He sent the message and was about to browse financial news for inspiration when a flood of QQ notifications began popping up.
He opened it to see Liu Hao had sent him a barrage of messages.
[Holy crap! Bro Luo! Are you spending the night with that gorgeous goddess?]
[We agreed to stay virgins until graduation, and now you’re graduating from virginhood tonight!]
[That beauty absolutely crushes Tang Xiwei—she’s in a whole different league! I’m so jealous I could cry! Why don’t good things like this ever happen to me?]
[Take it easy, Bro Luo! If she drains you dry, remember to call 911!]

(☆▽☆)(☆▽☆)(☆▽☆)
Looking at Liu Hao’s barrage of jealous, envious, and resentful emojis, Chen Luo was utterly exasperated.
[I am with her, but not spending the night together!]
[Bro Luo, no need to be shy! Have fun tonight. If a teacher checks the dorm, I’ll cover for you!]
[No, really. It’s not like that!]
[Got it! I understand. Tomorrow you won’t be a virgin anymore.]
Chen Luo had no idea how to explain. He couldn’t exactly say, “I’m not coming back tonight, the goddess is sleeping in my arms, and I’m not doing a thing.”
If he sent that, it would sound utterly ridiculous—no one would believe it, and Liu Hao’s imagination would run wild with all sorts of scenarios.
Ah, what a ridiculous plot twist, like something straight out of a romantic anime.
Wait—anime?
The second dimension?
At that moment, Chen Luo’s eyes lit up. He opened his browser and began searching for information on the current state of the anime industry.
He vaguely remembered that 2013 was a pivotal year for the domestic anime scene. After this, the industry would explode in growth, especially with “Little Broken Station” still in its early days—now was the time to get in.
Anime plus self-media was not only low-cost, but could quickly attract commercial deals and build a solid fan base for future growth.
Luckily, in his previous life, he’d spent plenty of idle hours at university scrolling through Little Broken Station, and he still remembered some of the hottest video formats. He had a good grasp of the platform’s audience.
If he could build a million-follower account in the early days of Little Broken Station, he could ride the wave of the anime industry and take off in no time.
All right, this would be his first project—the start of his fortune. Next step: research and planning.
Time to get to work!
Chen Luo, cradling Wen Wan in his arms, began feverishly planning his entrepreneurial project.
Meanwhile, in the dormitory building at Hangzhou University, Tang Xiwei was busy drumming up votes.
“Come on, everyone! Today marks a month since we became classmates, and tonight I’m treating everyone to milk tea—one for each person!”