After the Forced Marriage, the Outcast Just Stopped Caring - Chapter 1

【Universal celebration! That famous copycat finally met his match today!】

【Decoded in a second. I heard the crash was quite severe. Do not tell me it was a DUI? It looks like heaven really does collect from the wicked.】

【Does any insider know his current status? Can we expect an obituary?】

【An insider is here with a quick update: YMY is awake. The injuries are not as bad as the rumors suggested, and his life is not in danger.】

【Unbelievable. He did not even die? Truly, ill weeds grow apace.】

【Everyone who commits school bullying deserves a miserable death!】

Malicious and vitriolic words filled the entire screen, as every sentence dripped with pure hatred.

Mingyi scrolled through the screen numbly. Word by word, he forced himself to read every insult with a near-masochistic intensity. In the eyes of others, was he really this pathetic? It seemed that no matter what he did, the final result was always being loathed by everyone.

Mingyi once again recalled the dream he had while unconscious after the car accident. In his dream, this world was a “Group-Pampered” novel. The fake young master, Yan An, was the true protagonist, while he, Yan Mingyi, was nothing more than a contrast character set up to make Yan An look better. He was a pathetic and laughable cannon fodder supporting role.

Indeed, without a dark and lowly cannon fodder, how could the protagonist’s kindness and nobility be highlighted? If the cannon fodder’s end was not tragic enough, how could the readers feel the satisfaction of justice? So, in that dream, Mingyi eventually ended up with his reputation ruined, dying alone by sinking into the sea.

As of now, Mingyi’s reputation was already destroyed. In one more month, he would die in the ocean.

Normally, Mingyi should have struggled to try to reverse his fate, but Mingyi was truly too tired. Mingyi had returned home at the age of fourteen. To gain even a tiny bit of affection from those around him, he had practically lived as Yan An’s shadow, constantly trying to please everyone.

He could have kept persevering, but suddenly a dream told him that no matter how hard he tried, everything he did would be in vain because that was how he was designed. It was so ridiculous and so hopeless.

Mingyi lightly caressed the shattered phone screen. His eyes, half-hidden behind his bangs, turned gloomy. He decided to let it end here. It turned out there was never any room for struggle in this manipulated life of his, so it was better to just end it.

Mingyi looked out the window. The weather was beautiful today. A ray of sunlight pierced through the glass into the hospital room, landing right on Mingyi’s profile. His pale skin looked almost transparent, as if he were about to melt into the excessive brightness.

When Yan Zhiheng entered, this was the scene he encountered. The pale young man leaned against the headboard. Because of the bandage on his forehead, his slightly long bangs were pushed up to reveal clear features. Bathed in the sunlight, he did not look as gloomy or unpleasant as he usually did.

Yan Zhiheng suddenly realized that Yan Mingyi actually looked a lot like their mother. His eyes were dark and moist with long lashes. It was a pity Yan Mingyi never liked looking people in the eye; he usually kept them half-closed with the corners drooping, appearing listless and dejected.

After today’s minor car accident, his eyes were finally open, and he was willing to look people in the face. Mingyi’s clear, dark eyes turned toward him. The pupils were like black lacquer, deep and bottomless. Being looked at like this made Yan Zhiheng feel inexplicably uncomfortable. He uttered a faint, mocking remark, “What, did you hit your head so hard you forgot how to greet people?”

“Brother,” Mingyi called out.

He did not try to make small talk or proactively start a conversation as he usually did. Yan Zhiheng waited for a moment, but when no further words came, his brows furrowed slightly. Attributing Mingyi’s abnormality to post-accident discomfort, Yan Zhiheng took the initiative to bring up his reason for coming, “That matter, have you finished considering it?”

Mingyi still stared at him fixedly. “Brother, did you come here today just to ask me about that?”

Yan Zhiheng felt irritated again. Although Mingyi’s tone was calm, his gaze was too sharp, cutting through the peaceful facade like a blade. Yan Zhiheng raised a hand to loosen his tie, his expression cold. “Mingyi, the family is doing this for your own good. Do you know what they are saying about you online right now? Is it not better to leave the industry for a while to avoid the storm?”

After a pause, Yan Zhiheng softened his tone. “If you are really determined to make a name for yourself in the entertainment industry, once the agreement expires, I will pour resources into you and help you return to the big screen.”

Mingyi’s gaze dimmed slightly. He was already covered in scandals. If he waited years to return, those stains would likely never be washed away.

Seeing Mingyi remain silent, Yan Zhiheng continued, “The Xie family is not an existence the Yan family can contend with. You are past the age of being immature; you should consider the family’s interests. Mingyi, marriage alliances are common. Xie Yunxie is excellent in every aspect. Entering a marriage of convenience with him is actually a good choice.”

Mingyi suddenly spoke up, “If it is so good, why not let Yan An go? Is Yan An not the one Xie Yunxie actually wants?”

Yan Zhiheng choked on his words. Mingyi answered for him, “Because Xie Yunxie has unspeakable hobbies in private and his hands are not clean. You are afraid Yan An will suffer after the marriage. Plus, Yan An cried to you and played the victim, so you wavered and decided to let me take his place. Why?” Mingyi murmured. “Is it just because I do not know how to cry to you?”

As the saying goes, the child who cries gets the candy. Mingyi had once tried to imitate Yan An, trying to complain and cry to his family. Mingyi understood the logic, but he could not do it. Yan An could act spoiled with their parents without any burden because he had been pampered since childhood. He knew he had the capital to make his family’s hearts soften. Even as an adult, his acting spoiled did not feel out of place.

But Mingyi had not returned home until he was fourteen. By then, he was already a half-grown teenager, long past the age where he could cry to adults for candy. Mingyi gave a self-deprecating laugh.

“What nonsense,” Yan Zhiheng frowned again. “An An is currently in the rising stage of his career; it is just not a suitable time for him to get married. You should not always hold such malice toward him.” Yan Zhiheng said patiently, “Your acting is poor and your reputation is ruined. You are clearly not suited for the entertainment industry. The family is looking out for you.”

It was a fine way of looking out for him.

Mingyi remained silent for a long time before asking, “What if I just do not agree?”

There was no reasoning with him. Yan Zhiheng checked his watch as he was in a hurry to get back for a meeting. He stood up and stopped trying to persuade him, coldly leaving a final sentence, “If you do not marry into the Xie family, the family will cut off your cards.”

Without a backward glance at Mingyi, Yan Zhiheng walked out. Before the door closed, Mingyi saw two bodyguards standing guard outside. To the Yan family, the Xie family was a giant. As the head of the Xie family, Xie Yunxie’s word was law. If Yan An would not go, then Mingyi had to go. Whether through coercion or bribery, even if it meant tearing away the last shred of dignity, the person in that marriage alliance had to be Mingyi.

There was no other way, Mingyi thought calmly. After all, who told him to be nothing but a universally loathed cannon fodder?

The next day, Mingyi called Yan Zhiheng and said he agreed to the marriage. An hour later, the marriage agreement was delivered to Mingyi’s hospital bed. The lawyer who delivered the document stood aside, droning on about the key clauses. Mingyi did not listen seriously. He unscrewed his pen cap and, in the signature line, signed his name stroke by stroke.

The further he wrote, the harder the pen pressed down. By the final stroke, the nib nearly tore through the paper. A powerful sense of resentment burned in his heart, mixed with a suffocating pain. But as the pen cap clicked shut, all emotions seemed to be sealed away with it, turning into nothingness.

He did not care for this miserable world anyway. He was done playing along.