Why did he always find her in such vulnerable circumstances? Scratching his stubble he called the stewardess over.
"Hi, I'm acquaintances with her." He pointed towards Qian Meng. "Do you mind if I switch seats with her?"
The stewardess looked bewildered. "I don't understand."
"I don't want to wake her."
"Is something wrong with your seat?" she asked, looking around. She didn't know how to handle this situation.
"The air conditioner isn't working well on this side." The stewardess looked up. Indeed, it wasn't working too well.
"I will see what I can do."
"You don't need to do anything. She seems to be cold. She won't mind." He smiled. His words made zero sense but that charming smile made up for everything. If it had been Yun Qian Meng, she would have called him out on his bullshit.
Anyway, the stewardess stepped aside and followed Mo Qingchen. He went to her side of the aisle. Sliding his hand under her back and pressing the other on her back, he raised her into his arms.
"Qian Meng, this is the second time. How are you going to compensate?" The other passengers had gone to sleep, except for a few who looked up and watched the drama unfold. Yun Qian Meng, the brat hummed as if recognizing his voice.
He walked over to his side, making sure her feet weren't touching anyone. He placed her gently on his seat and pulled the cover over her. He touched her hand when he was tucking her in.
Cold.
"Can you bring me another duvet?" The stewardess dumbly nodded and rushed to do his bidding. She came back sooner than expected and handed the duvet to him. He opened it and spread it evenly over Qian Meng's body.
He took a step back and looked at his handiwork.
'Good job.'
He turned to the stewardess, gave her a smile, and then went and sat on Qian Meng's seat. He pulled the seat up to make the bed and then covered himself.
He was used to sleeping on his side, so he turned. On one side was an old gentleman who was scratching himself in his sleep. His only option was to turn towards her. The raised handle didn't give him a view of her but he remembered looking at her face the night before.
He shut his eye and then waited.
One sheep.
Two sheep.
...
Seven hundred and eighty-two sheep.
He opened his eyes. He pulled out the noise-canceling headphones from the hidden compartment and plugged it into the system. A recording of one of his team meetings about an upcoming project came up. He listened to it for long enough that he fell asleep.
His employees spoke with such placid voices that it worked better than any sleeping pill found in the pharmacy.
- - - - -
Yun Qian Meng woke up exactly twelve hours later. It was right before the flight started to land. Most of the other passengers had long woken up and had breakfast. Yun Qian Mend remained dead to the world.
Which meant, she didn't have any food for over twelve hours. Even more considering that she forgot to eat quite often. Mo Qingchen was taking the free hours to code and make changes to some components. He looked over to her side, stared at her sleeping face for a couple of seconds before turning back to the screen.
This transpired something like this. As the sun rose, the light in the cabin changed. A red glow evaded the room and Mo Qingchen looked to the side, outside the window. The light seemed to cast beautifully over Qian Meng's face.
When he turned to see her again, this sight met his eyes. He pulled out his phone and opened his camera. He clicked a series of photographs and then casually pushed the phone back into his pocket.
No trace of embarrassment or guilt.
When she woke up, she stretched her body like a cat and mewled, pulling the eyes of others. Mo Qingchen didn't have to look over to see what the scene looked like. He continued to work.
"Why am I here?" she grumbled, her voice gravelly from her long sleep.
"Three attendants had to pull you up and place you there because you refused to wake up." Qian Meng remained silent, stewing over his words. "They didn't want you to hurt your back, I suppose. Don't thank me. I'm just a good citizen."
Qian Meng shook her head and ignored him.
The flight started to land right about the time she brushed her teeth and took a quick shower in the first-class bathroom. She changed into something more business appropriate. When she walked out, no one bothered to look at her.
"Dry your hair. You look like a wet cat."
'This man lives to make my life hell.' She was sure of it. She had dried it as much as required without damaging her hair. Blow dryers killed hair, so she never used those. The chill from the air conditioner? She would only have to bear with it for a few more minutes.
Qian Meng rushed out without looking at Mo Qingchen when the time came. She even grabbed some breakfast on her way out. When she reached the car assigned by the conference organizers, she looked at the tinted windows suspiciously.
Her luggage was placed in the bag. Seeing the size of the car, it should seat about 4 people in the back. The attendant opened the door for her.
She saw a man in his fifties sitting across from the door. She smiled at the man and slid in. She realized belatedly that there were two other people in the car. One was another gentleman, much older than them... probably in his seventies, while the other was thirty-one years of age.
Name? Mo Qingchen.
There were introductions made and pleasantries exchanged. The scoundrel didn't bother with being social, he concentrated on his laptop throughout the ride to the hotel.
"You smile too easily," he griped when the others were out of hearing range.
"Because it benefits me," she replied languidly.