After the Sang-Style Beauty Married the Disabled Villain [Transmigration] - Chapter 3

After recalling the original plot, Shen Jiali closed his eyes. Boring. I’d rather spend this time finding a rag and scrubbing a dry latrine at the edge of a village.

He had a dreamless night. He was eventually woken by a persistent knocking. Checking his phone, he saw it was only 7:00 AM. A dedicated “slacker” never gets up early—that was his final line of defense.

“Mr. Shen, it’s getting late. Surely you haven’t forgotten the plan to visit your family today?”

Shen Jiali: My family is already resting in peace. Please don’t tell ghost stories in broad daylight.

“The Eldest Young Master is already waiting in the dining room. Or do you require my assistance with washing and dressing?” Uncle Li began his “sermon mode” outside the door again.

Shen Jiali felt as if a swarm of flies was buzzing around him. He truly didn’t understand; with modern technology so advanced, why couldn’t they just make a video call? Why do something as exhausting and wasteful as going out to see people? The original owner’s family likely wanted nothing more than to never see him again anyway.

With a sigh of despair, Shen Jiali propped himself up. “Stop preaching. I’m up.”

He habitually reached for his bedside table, where his internal medicine usually sat, only to realize he was in another world. He touched his chest; surprisingly, there was no discomfort.

To prevent further nagging, he slowly got dressed in yesterday’s clothes and headed downstairs. From a distance, he could see the tall man in the wheelchair ready to go. A sharp, tailored suit couldn’t hide his sturdy physique; his shirt was as white as fallen snow, ironed to perfection.

Although the novel described the villain Nan Liujing as “hideously ugly,” judging by his build alone, he outclassed 99% of the men in the country. As Shen Jiali drew closer, he noticed Nan Liujing was wearing a mask, covering half his face. His eyes were long, deep, and sharp, with cold, arrogant brows. He didn’t look “ugly” at all—likely a “mask-handsome” guy whose face wouldn’t survive the light of day.

Shen Jiali sat at the entrance to change his shoes. Nan Liujing’s gaze fell on him. He noticed Shen Jiali was wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

“Why are you wearing yesterday’s clothes?” It wasn’t a question; it was an interrogation.

“Oh, I’m wearing them tomorrow, too.” Shen Jiali felt the question was nonsensical.

Nan Liujing understood. He’s deliberately wearing wrinkled clothes to his family home so people will think I’m mistreating him. Using pity to gain public sympathy—he’s an expert at that.

“Go change,” Nan Liujing said coldly.

Shen Jiali was speechless. How can this man be so nitpicky? “Either we leave now, or you help me change,” Shen Jiali stated matter-of-factly. Never expect a “slacker” to repeat a meaningless task.

Nan Liujing let out a cold sneer behind his mask. He turned to Uncle Li. “Go bring down new clothes. I’ll help him change.”

Shen Jiali: ?

Uncle Li rushed upstairs and brought back a white shirt with a diamond orchid-shaped collar pin and dark gray trousers. Nan Liujing tossed the hanger aside and looked up arrogantly. “Take them off.”

Shen Jiali didn’t want to. Buttons were a hassle. In the time it took to unbutton and rebutton, he could have spent five more minutes lying down. Seeing him motionless, Nan Liujing sneered, “Do you need me to help you take them off, too?”

Shen Jiali spread his arms and nodded. Uncle Li was shocked! Ever since the master was six years old, no one had dared to let him serve them.

“Come here,” Nan Liujing ordered.

Shen Jiali took a step forward, but his leg caught on the wheelchair’s footrest. Inertia sent him forward. Instead of bracing himself against the armrests, Shen Jiali fell directly into Nan Liujing’s lap. His legs instinctively curled up, clinging to the man.

Shen Jiali had been standing for ten minutes—surpassing his usual limit. He was tired. If he couldn’t lie flat, “crawling flat” would suffice. Nan Liujing’s chest was firm; Shen Jiali could feel the outline of muscles beneath the thin suit. He draped his arms around Nan Liujing’s waist and peacefully closed his eyes.

Nan Liujing didn’t move. He stared at the ceiling, feeling the soft hair brushing against his neck. Shen Jiali wasn’t short—roughly 1.8 meters—but he was so thin he felt like a feather in his arms.

“You take them off. I’m going to lie here for a bit,” Shen Jiali murmured.

Nan Liujing sneered. What scheme is he plotting now? Using a ‘beauty trap’? He didn’t bother being polite. He grabbed the hem of Shen Jiali’s shirt and pulled it up over his head, tossing the old one aside.

The boy’s skin was as white as snow, with a vivid red mole on his chest—languid and decadent. Nan Liujing stared at the mole for a moment. Uncle Li discreetly turned away to “look at the scenery.”

Shen Jiali was thin but not bony, with a slender waist and soft curves. Nan Liujing averted his gaze and helped him into the new shirt. His fingers accidentally brushed against skin that was smooth and tender. Once finished, Nan Liujing said lowly, “Are you quite finished lying there?”

Shen Jiali: “Mhm. Still lying. Tired.”

Nan Liujing felt like he had punched a bale of cotton. He grabbed Shen Jiali by the collar, hauled him up, pushed him aside, and wheeled himself away.

Shen Jiali accompanied Nan Liujing to the Shen family villa. It was a tacky, three-story building with Roman arches and a colorful glass dome very much the style of a “nouveau riche” upstart.

Shen Jiali didn’t want to go in. He hated useless socializing and sycophancy. Inside, the house was packed with people. A man and a woman the original owner’s adoptive parents—rushed to greet them. The woman, elegant as a swan, smiled at Nan Liujing. “The son-in-law is here! You must be tired. Come in and rest.”

She completely ignored Shen Jiali. Shen Jiali wanted to give her a “heart” gesture for proactively avoiding useless interaction.

The adoptive father, however, smiled kindly. “Li-li, you’re back? You look thinner.” He tried to take Shen Jiali’s hand. Shen Jiali was too lazy to dodge and let him.

In the main hall, Shen Jiali spotted a familiar woman—Nan Liujing’s stepmother, Yu Huaisu. She looked stunned to see Nan Liujing alive and well. Yesterday, she had used Shen Jiali to deliver a “tonic” that was actually lethal. She had come here this morning to wait for news of Nan Liujing’s death, yet here he was.

Yu Huaisu stood to greet them. “Liujing, you came, too? You should have told us.” She tried to push the wheelchair, but Nan Liujing moved away, maintaining his distance.

“Your brother wanted to see his new sister-in-law,” Yu Huaisu said, her smile flawless despite the snub. “Xiao Qing is also here. You young people should catch up.”

Shen Jiali sat in a corner to rest. “Brother,” a soft voice sounded from above. Shen Jiali opened his eyes to see a delicate, handsome face with watery eyes—Shen Lanqing, the “real” heir and protagonist. Behind him stood a tall, loyal-looking man—the protagonist gong, Nan Feiyao.

Shen Lanqing sat beside him. “Brother, why didn’t you reply to my messages?”

In the original novel, Shen Lanqing was the “innocent” protagonist who eventually “blackened” after Shen Jiali’s schemes nearly killed him. For now, he still held the “innocent” script and looked a bit dim-witted.

Shen Jiali: “Didn’t want to reply.”

Shen Lanqing’s smile faltered. Nan Feiyao pulled him up. “Ignore him. Let’s eat.”

At lunch, the table was crowded. Everyone knew Shen Jiali was a “fake” who had been married off to a “useless cripple.” They all flocked to flatter Shen Lanqing and Nan Feiyao instead.

Shen Jiali silently ate spring rolls. He was too lazy to reach for anything else. His adoptive father discreetly put some fish and vegetables in his bowl. “Li-li, eat a bit of everything for your health.”

Shen Jiali felt a strange, sour emotion. He actually ate the fish. But he hated fish because of the bones. A small bone immediately got stuck in his throat. He coughed, but it wouldn’t come out.

“Li-li, are you choked?” His adoptive father stood to bring him water.

Nan Feiyao smirked. “Brother-in-law is quite greedy. Slow down, no one’s taking it from you.”

Shen Jiali took a sip of water and finally swallowed the bone. “Mhm. Just like you—can’t keep your mouth shut.”

The room went silent. Nan Liujing’s stepmother, Yu Huaisu, laughed. “The new bride and our Liujing are truly a pair both have a knack for choking people. I suppose that’s called ‘two hearts beating as one’?”

Shen Jiali looked up. “Does that mean you and your husband don’t have two hearts beating as one?”

The silence deepened. Yu Huaisu’s fingers tightened around her cutlery. The adoptive father quickly smoothed things over.

After lunch, Yu Huaisu sat beside Shen Jiali with a laptop. “Jiali, could Mom ask a favor of you?”

Shen Jiali: Mom? Oh, she means mother-in-law. But I’m a salted fish.

“I need to send a file to a friend, but I’m not good with computers. Could you add him and send it for me?”

Shen Jiali: “I don’t know how to use a computer. I still use a flip phone.”

“You’re a Software Engineering major! Just help Mom, okay?”

Shen Jiali sighed. He took the laptop and logged into his WeChat to add the friend. While Yu Huaisu was distracted, he habitually refreshed the desktop and accidentally sorted the files by size. He didn’t know the original order, so he just left it.

Yu Huaisu pointed to the first folder. “This one. Send it to my friend.”

Shen Jiali dragged the folder and hit enter. “Done.”

Yu Huaisu snatched the laptop back and shut it down. She walked to the bathroom and sent a text: Do as I said. You’ll be rewarded once it’s done.

She leaned against the wall and let out a suppressed laugh.