The Sickly Beauty Can’t Escape the Obsessive Lover - Chapter 1

A long-lasting blizzard had draped the entire city of Ningcheng in an elegant and gentle tranquility.

On this rare clear day, the snow around the standalone manor by the moat had long been cleared away, leaving only a few remnants of white snow clinging to the exquisitely shaped, undulating red-tiled roof.

Through the bright, pristine white wooden window frames, a few figures stood inside the lavishly decorated bedroom, conversing in hushed tones.

“Brother Ji Yan, will Xiao Jing ever wake up?”

“That day when he fell down the stairs, it truly terrified me.”

The handsome young man standing by the bedside lowered his gaze, his expression and demeanor filled with regret.

“If only I could have caught him.”

The young man choked up, his eyes reddening.

“Rong Qing, don’t blame yourself. We all know Xiao Jing’s temperament. His fall wasn’t your fault.”

The speaker, refined and gentle in manner, was Jing Baiwei, the eldest son of the Jing family.

Hearing these words, Rong Qing slowly lifted his head. However, he didn’t immediately look at Jing Baiwei. Instead, he cautiously turned his gaze toward the handsome man sitting cross-legged in a chair.

Rong Qing’s lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to speak but hesitated.

Jing Baiwei noticed Rong Qing’s tension and followed his gaze.

The man sitting opposite them was Ji Yan.

Ji Yan appeared stern, his brows slightly furrowed. His overly fair complexion made his lips seem pale, and the silver-rimmed glasses he wore added a touch of aloofness to his features, further intensifying the somber atmosphere around him.

Jing Baiwei’s heart sank, growing increasingly unable to grasp Ji Yan’s thoughts.

Ji Yan, the newly appointed head of the Ji family, was also his younger brother’s fiancé.

Their families had long been bound by a marriage agreement, with elders from both sides maintaining close ties for decades and frequently collaborating on important corporate projects. To strengthen their alliance, they had even arranged a marriage between the younger generation.

Ji Yan had been raised by his grandfather, as his parents had died in a car accident fifteen years earlier. The tragedy had deeply affected him. After losing his parents, the young Ji Yan gradually became withdrawn and melancholic, often spending time alone in corners. As an adult, his ruthless methods and merciless demeanor left everyone in awe, and his unyielding, cold-hearted reputation was known throughout Ningcheng.

Jing Baiwei lowered his eyes, his gaze settling on his younger brother, Jing Yuan, lying in the hospital bed.

Jing Yuan had adored Ji Yan since childhood, but having been spoiled by his family, he had grown willful and domineering. After their engagement, his relationship with Ji Yan remained strained. Although Jing Yuan had forcibly moved into the Ji residence under the pretext of their families’ friendship, Ji Yan remained cold and disdainful toward him, often refusing to even speak to him.

Rumors in Ningcheng suggested that Ji Yan’s true affection lay with Rong Qing, with whom he had grown up and shared an exceptionally close bond.

As he observed Ji Yan’s gloomy expression, Jing Baiwei couldn’t help but feel a strange illusion—that Ji Yan would be pleased if Jing Yuan were to die.

The life-support monitor beeped rhythmically. Jing Baiwei looked at Jing Yuan in the hospital bed, his emotions in turmoil.

His younger brother’s temperament was indeed problematic. When they were children, Jing Yuan had often bullied him intentionally, and some of his actions could even be described as malicious.

It wasn’t just him. The household servants were frequently tormented and humiliated by Jing Yuan. Within the Jing family, Jing Yuan was like a tyrant, instilling fear in everyone.

Jing Yuan was a premature baby, born with congenital weaknesses. He had spent two months in the ICU before barely escaping death. Over the past twenty-plus years, his health had remained extremely fragile. He suffered severe allergic reactions to over a dozen allergens, had a poor physical constitution, and was constantly plagued by illnesses, both major and minor. His heart also had some issues, leaving him perpetually sickly.

It was precisely because of Jing Yuan’s lifelong frailty and poor health that their parents had doted on him so excessively.

However, due to their father’s mismanagement, the Jing family had been on a downward spiral in recent years. Last year, the group’s capital chain suffered a severe blow, leaving it almost indistinguishable from bankruptcy.

Thus, even though Ji Yan treated Jing Yuan so poorly, their parents never once considered bringing Jing Yuan back home.

Jing Baiwei sighed silently, his gaze fixed on the ventilator.

Not long ago, Jing Yuan had accidentally fallen down the stairs, hitting the most fragile parts of his head multiple times. According to the doctor, his chances of waking up were only 1%, making him no different from a vegetative state.

“Brother Ji Yan.”

Rong Qing’s voice pulled Jing Baiwei’s thoughts back to reality.

“Brother Ji Yan, you haven’t slept well these past two days. Would you like to rest?”

Rong Qing’s voice was gentle, his eyes sparkling with a flattering smile.

Ji Yan seemed not to hear him, leaning lightly against the chair with a furrowed brow, his expression complex as he stared intently at Jing Yuan on the hospital bed, utterly absorbed.

Rong Qing followed Ji Yan’s gaze, his eyes faintly concealing jealousy and confusion.

Before, Ji Yan had found even a glance at Jing Yuan repulsive, so why was he suddenly so concerned about him today?

Could it be because Jing Baiwei was present?

But the Jing family had long since fallen into ruin. Ji Yan shouldn’t even spare Jing Baiwei a second thought.

Moreover, Jing Baiwei and Jing Yuan didn’t get along well; he often witnessed Jing Yuan bullying Jing Baiwei.

Rong Qing frowned, his cold gaze settling on Jing Yuan’s face, masking a trace of malice.

It had to be admitted that Jing Yuan was indeed blessed with good looks. Even with his pale, sickly complexion in slumber, his striking features remained undeniable.

But what did it matter?

Wasn’t he just a sickly weakling, worthless aside from his appearance?

No one would likely ever find out that he was the one who pushed Jing Yuan down the stairs that day.

Rong Qing’s lips curled slightly, his discontent easing a little.

At noon, a beam of light slipped through the blinds, landing precisely on Jing Yuan’s long, delicate eyelashes.

Bathed in the morning light, Jing Yuan’s already fair skin resembled flawless, unblemished jade, perfect in every way.

At the same time, Jing Yuan’s pinky finger twitched slightly, and his delicate, refined brows furrowed faintly, quickly drawing the attention of the three people in the room.

Shortly after, those beautiful brown eyes quietly opened.

Rong Qing jolted, instinctively frowning and stepping back in panic.

“Xiao Yuan!” Jing Baiwei hurriedly called for the doctor, utterly astonished by what was happening. “You’re awake? How do you feel?”

All three people in the room were focused on Jing Yuan.

Faced with everything, those brown eyes trembled slightly, and then his lively pupils brimmed with a helpless, gentle smile, like a pure white peony suddenly infused with vitality and life.

Jing Yuan lifted his lips, smiling apologetically.

These three were far too talkative. If he hadn’t just crossed over and been holding in his urge to pee, he wouldn’t have wanted to interrupt. Who knows—he might have overheard some juicy high-society secrets.

Jing Yuan was a transmigrator into a dog-blooded novel. As a newcomer, “Sweet Love in a Wealthy Family: Deep as the Sea” was the book he had crossed into.

But before he could delve into the novel’s plot in detail, he had inexplicably found himself transported here.

Fortunately, the original host’s memories had slowly returned to him. He had skimmed through the book’s synopsis and the comment section, giving him a rough grasp of the storyline.

He, Jing Yuan, was a minor cannon fodder in this book. Though a supporting character, he had plenty of screen time, committing almost every evil deed imaginable.

Jing Yuan sighed inwardly.

This manner of death seemed to be borrowed from Andersen’s fairy tales.

Little Match Girl Jing Yuan?

After recalling his short life, Jing Yuan’s clear, moist eyes slowly scanned the few people by his bedside.

The young man standing farthest away was probably Rong Qing, Ji Yan’s childhood friend.

Also, the one who had pushed him down the stairs.

Seeing the other’s guilty and cautious expression, Jing Yuan suddenly felt a mischievous urge to tease him.

It was understandable to be this frightened when a comatose patient suddenly woke up.

So, with great difficulty, he raised his terrifyingly thin wrist and shakily pointed at Rong Qing.

It wasn’t that he was doing this on purpose. The original host’s body was truly weak, leaving him completely feeble and powerless.

Rong Qing immediately jumped in fright, his expression as if he’d seen a ghost.

Jing Baiwei frowned and quickly stepped forward: “Xiao Jing, wait a moment, the doctor will be here soon.”

Just as Jing Yuan was about to say something, he couldn’t suppress a coughing fit from his chest, his lips growing increasingly pale. At first glance, he resembled a white jasmine flower swaying in the wind—frail and innocent.

The original host’s body was quite helpful; he didn’t even need to pretend.

With this physique, trying to live comfortably under the watchful eye of the major villain Ji Yan was no joking matter.

Soon, the doctor arrived.

Upon seeing Jing Yuan, the doctor wore an equally astonished expression. The patient’s brainstem had clearly suffered irreversible death—how could he have suddenly woken up?

After a tense physical examination ended, the doctor asked some important questions, removed Jing Yuan’s ventilator, and said gravely, “He should be fine, but Young Master Jing hit his head. His memories from the day of the accident might be temporarily inaccessible.”

Hearing this, Rong Qing breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed.

Thank goodness he couldn’t remember. If Ji Yan found out he had lied, he would definitely turn against him.

He secretly glanced at Ji Yan, only to find that Ji Yan’s attention was entirely focused on Jing Yuan, though his expression was grim.

He quietly took a breath, his face displeased.

Freed from the constraints of the ventilator, Jing Yuan instantly felt relieved. His pale little face coughed lightly, but his exceptionally bright and lively eyes sneakily fixed on Rong Qing.

Rong Qing grew somewhat frightened under that gaze, afraid that Jing Yuan would remember what happened that day, and began to feel anxious again.

“That day… it was you…”

Jing Yuan’s voice was very soft as he raised his hand toward Rong Qing.

In an instant, Rong Qing’s heart leaped into his throat.

Could it be that Jing Yuan remembered?

Jing Baiwei looked puzzled, quietly waiting for Jing Yuan to finish his sentence.

“It was you who said you owed me one million and hadn’t paid it back.”

Jing Yuan’s voice was soft and gentle, much like a wronged little kitten. His palm-sized face was pitifully pale, and he appropriately gasped a couple of times.

He had just transmigrated here, and the book mentioned that Rong Qing and Ji Yan seemed to be on good terms. He didn’t dare recklessly expose him. Keeping this card up his sleeve might come in handy later.

Rong Qing immediately relaxed, then retorted, “When did I ever owe you one million?”

Jing Yuan pursed his lips, his almond-shaped eyes slightly furrowed: “Then let me think again… The day you said you’d pay me back seemed to be the same day I fell down the stairs…”

Rong Qing stared at him, his breathing quickening.

Jing Yuan pressed his temples, his beautiful and delicate brows slightly furrowed. “I asked you for money, then walked over to the staircase railing, and then you…”

“Ah! I remember now!” Rong Qing hastily interrupted. “I owe you a million. I’ll pay you back right away.”

Jing Yuan’s eyes curved slowly. “I’ll send you my bank account number later.”

After settling accounts with Rong Qing, he turned his gaze to Jing Baiwei. Jing Baiwei was his elder brother, though their relationship wasn’t particularly good. Of course, the main reason lay with the original host. With the original host’s sharp-tongued personality, it was a mercy that Jing Baiwei hadn’t thrown him into a pond when he was young.

Finally.

Jing Yuan discreetly glanced at the man closest to him.

This, he supposed, must be the super villain Ji Yan from the book.

Ji Yan’s skin was pale, his eyebrows traced a cold line from start to end, and his dark pupils were focused and calm, exuding an air of noble melancholy.

From a meter away, Jing Yuan caught a faint scent of amber.

It was a pleasant fragrance, carrying a bitter almond note yet mingled with sandalwood.

He recalled the readers’ evaluation of Ji Yan in the book—a maddening yet captivating villain.

Thinking that his future circumstances were closely tied to the man before him, Jing Yuan felt a mix of emotions in his heart.

Given Ji Yan’s current attitude toward him, turning the situation around would be exceedingly difficult.

Jing Yuan lifted his head, his innocent, kitten-like eyes gazing pitifully at Ji Yan, looking especially pitiable.

He vaguely remembered that the original host had provocatively entered Ji Yan’s room in sexy pajamas late at night the previous month.

The original host’s words had been sharp.

“Ji Yan, is it just me you can’t handle, or is it everyone?”

Jing Yuan’s heart was filled with complexity as he weakly raised his thin arm to shield his forehead.

Maybe he should just die.

But before that, he planned to spend the million Rong Qing had given him.

He just didn’t know if Ji Yan would take advantage of his weakened state to harm him.

At that moment, he noticed Ji Yan’s gaze darken.

The slightly aloof look seemed to see right through him.

Jing Yuan quickly averted his eyes and wrapped himself tightly in his blanket. But he really needed to use the bathroom, so after a few seconds, he tentatively lifted a corner of the blanket and peeked at Ji Yan.

He still had the strength to lift the blanket, but trying to sit up using his back muscles was currently impossible.

He feigned a few weak movements, wondering if his cheap brother Jing Baiwei would come to help him.

But after a minute of pretending, he realized he had misjudged their fraternal bond.

Jing Baiwei had no intention of helping him.

Jing Baiwei was also conflicted. His younger brother disliked being touched by him, no matter the circumstances. Since they had been discussing matters earlier, the caregiver had been asked to wait outside temporarily. Jing Baiwei intended to call the caregiver in to assist Jing Yuan to the bathroom.

But as he reached the door, he suddenly heard Rong Qing’s voice: “Brother Ji Yan?”

Jing Baiwei turned around and saw that Ji Yan had, at some point, stood up and lifted Jing Yuan into his arms.

The height difference between the two was noticeable, and Jing Yuan was so thin that his waist was almost entirely covered by Ji Yan’s broad palm as he nestled in his arms.

Jing Yuan was equally surprised, his brown pupils looking at Ji Yan with confusion, much like a timid kitten afraid that Ji Yan would toss him into some deserted corner to be quietly disposed of.

He wasn’t wearing shoes or socks, and his slender legs were suddenly exposed to the air, so pale they were almost blinding.

Jing Yuan didn’t understand—why had Ji Yan suddenly become so gentle? Just moments ago, he had been looking at him with such coldness.

Ji Yan didn’t notice his unusual behavior, thoughtfully helping Jing Yuan into the wheelchair and draping a blanket over him. With one long leg slightly bent, he crouched down and gazed quietly at him: “I’ll take you to the restroom.”

His words seemed deliberately slowed.

Even tinged with a trace of concern.

Jing Yuan couldn’t fathom what Ji Yan was truly thinking, pursing his lips: “Mm…”

Ji Yan’s eyes were also brown, but lighter than Jing Yuan’s. When fixed directly on someone, they carried an inexplicable depth and an indescribable pressure.

The wheelchair rolled softly across the expensive vintage carpet. With his back turned to everyone, Ji Yan adjusted his glasses, a peculiar smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

Perfect.

It seemed he had truly been reborn five years into the past—back when Jing Yuan hadn’t yet had the chance to destroy everything he had.