After the Sang-Style Beauty Married the Disabled Villain [Transmigration] - Chapter 1

Before him, in an exceptionally stylish hall, velvet sofas acted as an axis of symmetry, splitting the black-clad bodyguards on either side into a perfect mirror image.

On the sofa sat a man and a woman. The man was in his sixties, dressed in a formal suit and looking sharp and energetic. The woman appeared to be in her early thirties, wearing a deep red skirt suit that exuded elegance and luxury.

Shen Jiali slowly processed a question mark in his mind.

Have I… ascended to a higher plane?

Slowly turning his gears, he recalled the scene from a moment ago.

Since birth, Shen Jiali had been bound to a hereditary family heart condition. Every few days, he would find himself lying in a hospital bed, and taking leave from school was a common occurrence. He had long since grown weary of the endless medications and treatments, yearning for an early release.

It wasn’t until his caregiver, an avid fan of melodramatic BL novels, began prattling on about a plot she had just read. At the story’s climax, Shen Jiali’s lips turned blue as he gasped, “Stop reading…” The ECG monitor let out a sharp, piercing alarm, and amidst the chaotic footsteps of doctors and nurses, he had peacefully closed his eyes.

Upon opening them again, he was in this surreal setting.

A middle-aged woman approached from the side, carrying a tray. On the tray sat two green, ice-crackle glazed porcelain cups, from which the scent of tea and curling steam wafted.

“A new daughter-in-law entering the home must serve tea to her parents-in-law on the first day of marriage to show filial piety.” The middle-aged woman spoke sternly, bringing the cups before Shen Jiali.

A new daughter-in-law?

Shen Jiali was confused.

Me? A daughter-in-law?

He was a sickly wreck who had spent half his life in a hospital bed; even a dog would shake its head at him, let alone a matchmaker.

As he pondered, the woman on the sofa spoke with a beaming smile: “I know Liujing. He has always despised these dogmatic rules, so we won’t wait for him. As for you, Jiali, since you have tied the knot with Liujing, you must be more tolerant of him in all matters to ensure a harmonious and beautiful married life.”

Shen Jiali: ?

This rhetoric feels like a dream back to 2005.

Wait Liujing? The name sounded familiar.

Thinking back carefully, in the novel his caregiver had been hungrily reading before his critical condition, the gloomy and perverted arch-villain seemed to share that name.

Shen Jiali: …

I’ve… I’ve transmigrated into a book.

His mother had suffered from the same hereditary heart disease and passed away at forty-seven. Unable to leave him behind to suffer the same pain, she had specially requested a distant cousin to look after him before she died. The cousin was young, loved melodramatic “CEO literature,” and wasn’t particularly quick-witted—she had to read aloud to stay focused.

Lying in his hospital bed, Shen Jiali had heard every bitter and dramatic plotline through this little cousin: organ harvesting, “he flees, he chases, he cannot escape,” and so on. Most recently, his cousin had found a melodramatic wealthy-family BL novel titled Beneath the Sea of Commerce, featuring a satisfying “True vs. Fake Young Master” plot. She read it at his bedside every day. Shen Jiali, drifting in and out of consciousness, had followed the general gist.

As luck would have it, the “fake young master” used as a foil for the true young master shared his exact name.

In the original text, the fake young master, Shen Jiali, was arrogant, domineering, and spiteful. He believed there was nothing in the world money couldn’t solve, bullying others and making enemies everywhere. Later, when the true young master, Shen Lanqing, returned to the family, the cannon-fodder fake young master—terrified of losing everything bullied him openly and framed him in secret. This enraged his parents, who cut off his financial support and banished him to the outskirts of the city to rot.

Eventually, the Shen family faced bankruptcy. To save the company, they desperately sought a marriage alliance with the Nan family, the nation’s top conglomerate. However, the alliance wasn’t with the younger son, Nan Feiyao, but with the eldest son, Nan Liujing who was rumored to be old, ugly, gloomy, perverted, and disabled.

Loth to send the true young master who had already suffered so much, the Shen family “substituted the raccoon for the prince,” sending the fake young master to the villain’s wedding bed. The fake young master, unwilling to accept this, tried to kill the villain as quickly as possible to inherit his fortune. In the end, his crimes were exposed, and the villain tortured him until he was a shell of a man, wishing for death. Meanwhile, the true young master and the protagonist, Nan Feiyao, crushed the villain, seized the inheritance, and lived happily ever after.

Shen Jiali ran through the plot in his head. Though he didn’t remember every detail, he understood the situation: he was the spiteful cannon fodder, and he was about to be tortured until he was “better off dead.”

Shen Jiali: …

Send me back. Transmigrate me directly to the chapter where I stop breathing.

“Serve the tea! Why are you just standing there dazed?” The middle-aged woman, seeing Shen Jiali lost in thought, pinched his back hard with her fingertips.

“Why should I serve tea?” Shen Jiali asked, perplexed.

“After serving tea, you must change how you address them and call them ‘Mom and Dad’ starting today.”

Oh.

Shen Jiali lifted his foot and nonchalantly stepped over the woman’s instep, causing her to let out two yelps of pain. He could have walked around her, but the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. It definitely wasn’t deliberate retaliation for that vicious pinch.

Wanting only to settle things quickly, Shen Jiali picked up both cups at once. Like a teacher handing out snacks to kindergarteners, he thrust the cups into the “parents-in-law’s” hands.

“This is yours, hold it tight. This is yours, don’t grab.”

He then straightened up. “Grandpa, Auntie, drink up quickly. I’m tired and want to lie down for five minutes.”

Distinguishing titles is too much trouble. Men are all ‘Grandpa,’ women are all ‘Auntie.’

The Parents-in-law: ???

Everyone else: ?????

Presumably, the elite members of the conglomerate had never seen someone so rude and lawless; they were momentarily stunned. Who wouldn’t be desperate to kneel and lick the boots of the family to show loyalty? Yet he said… he wanted to lie down for five minutes?

The man on the sofa gave a thin, joyless smile. “What did you just call me? Grandpa?”

Shen Jiali looked puzzled. He scanned the old man from head to toe and hesitantly parted his red lips. “Old… Old Ancestor?”

At his age, he’d probably be embarrassed to even answer to ‘Uncle.’

The villain’s biological father ground his teeth until they creaked, the veins in his neck bulging.

In contrast, the woman remained calm, her smile like a still pond. “It seems the new bride is nervous about entering the home and is too shy to change her form of address. No matter; we are not practitioners of the old feudal ways. Formalities can be spared where possible.” She stood up, her pearl earrings swaying. She then smiled gently. “Come with me first.”

Shen Jiali, suffering from muscle weakness, felt dizzy after standing for so long. He only wanted to find a place to lie down. Although this woman appeared broad-minded and casual, Shen Jiali had no positive feelings toward her. She was obstructing his grand plan to “lay flat.” Moreover, if he remembered correctly, she was the villain’s stepmother and the mother of the protagonist, Nan Feiyao.

The villain’s biological mother had been a lady from a prominent family who married into the Nan house and died mysteriously at the age of thirty. Before the first seven days of mourning had even passed, the father had married his current second wife. When she entered the Nan family, she was a beautiful twenty-year-old university student with sharp wits; she seized control of the household finances almost immediately.

Tsk.

Shen Jiali followed her into the kitchen. As soon as the door opened, six or seven servants were seen working busily inside.

“All of you, out,” the woman dismissed the servants, leaving Shen Jiali alone. She rolled up her sleeves, washed her hands meticulously, and opened a cabinet. Inside were rows of various Chinese medicines, each box marked with its name, dosage, and effects.

“As you know, Liujing cannot leave his wheelchair right now. No one knows when his treatment will end, but we must always try.”

As she spoke, the woman grabbed several herbs, weighed them individually on an electronic scale, and placed them in small bowls. She then smiled at Shen Jiali. “Perhaps Liujing is still unwilling regarding this marriage, so you must indulge his temperament. Care for him, look after him, and let him see your sincerity. His attitude will slowly change.”

Shen Jiali: So?

“So, brew this tonic. When you go back, bring it to him. Don’t forget to mention that you brewed it with your own hands.” The woman smiled, her eyes curving like crescent moons.

There were strict requirements for the order in which the herbs were added. The woman prattled on, introducing them one by one.

Shen Jiali was speechless.

So much trouble. It’s really too much trouble. Why brew medicine? Will a bowl of this stuff make the villain leap out of his wheelchair and run a marathon for the province? Why do something so pointless?

Without giving him a chance to refuse, the woman walked out. “I have guests to attend to. Just turn off the heat in three hours. Good luck.”

From the corner of her eye, she glanced back at the bowls of herbs, her red lips curling. This family could only have one heir, and the appearance of this Shen Jiali was truly perfect timing.

After the woman left, Shen Jiali stared at the herbs, lost in thought.

What was the order she just said? I only remember the last one was some kind of root.

Can’t remember. Not going to think about it. Don’t make life hard for yourself.

He grabbed a few handfuls of the root-like herbs, tossed them into cold water, stirred them once with a chopstick, and then went to a corner to sit down. He hugged his legs and closed his eyes. In the pot, a few unknown roots floated in clear water; even during a famine, the rations were probably better than this.

Small blue flames danced beneath the pot. From the corner, the rhythmic sound of Shen Jiali’s breathing could be heard.

Just then, the kitchen door opened quietly. A middle-aged man with a square face and greying hair slipped inside. He stepped softly toward Shen Jiali and looked down at him.

The sleeping youth leaned crookedly against the wall. The soft strands of hair on his forehead were beautiful, resting against the corner of his porcelain-white eyes like the delicate patterns on a blue-and-white vase.

The square-faced man couldn’t help but sigh inwardly: Truly a rare beauty. Features like a painting, shaded by long lashes. Even his fingers are exceptionally beautiful, translucent like jade. His skin is so thin you can see the faint blue veins in his neck.

Exquisite things always attract a long gaze. The square-faced man looked for a long time before remembering his primary purpose. After a final, lingering glance, he walked to the small pot and turned off the fire.

“Mr. Shen, wake up. Why are you sleeping here?”

Shen Jiali was shaken awake. He opened his eyes to see a determined, square face.

Who?

Whatever. It doesn’t matter who it is. Ideally, he won’t introduce himself; remembering names is a hassle, and getting them wrong is awkward.

“Hello, please allow me to introduce myself. I am the eldest young master’s butler. My surname is Li; you can call me Uncle Li.” The man introduced himself warmly.

As luck would have it, there are always people who disregard the feelings of others and force greetings as a matter of politeness.

“I asked the Madam, and she said you were in the kitchen brewing medicine for the eldest young master. I’ve turned off the fire for you. The eldest young master will be home soon. Please tidy up and come home with me.” Uncle Li’s tone dripped with sincerity.

Shen Jiali took the thermos Uncle Li handed him. Inside was the “medicine” he had just made from unknown plant roots.

In the luxury car, Shen Jiali sat in the back holding the thermos. The sun was bright outside, so he reached out and pulled the curtains shut. He also pulled the curtains on the opposite window for good measure. Having spent half his life in hospital rooms, he was accustomed to a gloomy, lightless environment; sunlight was a burden to him.

Driving the car, Uncle Li looked at Shen Jiali through the rearview mirror and smiled. “It’s been raining constantly in Jinhai City lately. Everyone felt sticky and miserable. We finally have some sun today; why don’t you open the curtains and soak it in, Mr. Shen?”

Shen Jiali leaned against the backrest, eyes downcast. “No,” he said indifferently.

Uncle Li was startled but maintained his polite smile. “Why is that?”

“Moldy smells and ‘Sang’ people are a better match.”

Uncle Li: ?

Uncle Li didn’t know the soul inside had changed. He assumed Shen Jiali was just in a bad mood because he had to serve tea to his elders alone on his first day of marriage. He explained incessantly:

“The eldest young master just took over as CEO; it’s his busiest time. That’s why he went to the company early this morning. I hope you can be understanding.”

Shen Jiali gave him a faint glance.

So, what is there to miss about a world made of people who talk to themselves and are obsessed with their own consciousness?

Besides, in the original story, the villain was old, ugly, and had a perverted, gloomy personality.

Nostalgia points: -10,086.