The Sickly Beauty Can’t Escape the Obsessive Lover - Chapter 12

From Jing Yuan’s perspective, Ji Yan slightly raised his brows, a meaningful smile flickering in his deep eyes.

He wasn’t mistaken.

Ji Yan was indeed watching the show.

As for why he was watching? Jing Yuan had no idea.

He was a stubborn one himself. The more the other insisted he beg, the less he would yield.

So, with unyielding pride, Jing Yuan shot Ji Yan a defiant glance, turned, and strode gracefully toward the piano, like a puffed-up little kitten.

Ji Yan was in no hurry. He leisurely loosened the top button of his shirt, took a glass of wine from a servant’s tray, and savored it slowly, as if savoring the unfolding drama.

The person before him was an enigma. He knew nothing of their background or origins. The only glimpse of their character came from these past few days of interaction.

He was genuinely curious about how they would resolve this situation.

Jing Yuan had already taken his seat.

The piano before him was a handcrafted piece from Germany, its porcelain-white body blending seamlessly with Jing Yuan’s formal attire.

Lifting his wrists lightly, Jing Yuan’s gaze settled on the exquisitely crafted black and white keys. Though his silk-pale complexion bore a sickly pallor, his glass-like eyes shimmered with an irresistible brilliance.

He took a soft breath, and as his hands hovered over the keys, a fine layer of sweat instantly beaded on his temples.

The crowd waited, but the piano remained silent.

The young man who had invited Jing Yuan to play curled his lips subtly, his eyes filled with mockery. He had long suspected that Jing Yuan’s performance at the Vienna Golden Hall was nothing but a fabrication, and it seemed he was right.

From what he knew, the young master of the Jing family was nothing but a useless, sickly fool.

Just as murmurs began to ripple through the crowd, Jing Yuan suddenly turned his head. “Brother Ji Yan, I’d like you to play with me.”

His moist, gentle eyes blinked softly, his kitten-like innocence looking especially pitiful—a mix of coquettishness and plea.

All eyes shifted to Ji Yan at once.

Ji Yan stood with one hand casually tucked in his pocket, the other holding a glass of red wine. His tall, slender frame showed no sign of discomfort under the collective gaze, his expression calm and composed behind his silver-rimmed glasses.

His unreadable eyes met Jing Yuan’s for a long moment.

Jing Yuan hummed softly and reluctantly shot him a pleading look.

Ji Yan handed his glass to Chen Tian and strode up with long steps.

Instantly, the applause grew even more enthusiastic than before.

Staring at Ji Yan as he approached, Jing Yuan couldn’t help but curse inwardly.

He could have resolved this much earlier.

Yet he had to make him beg.

What a scoundrel—definitely not a good guy.

Jing Yuan parted his pale lips, his eyes brimming with anticipation. “Ji Yan, thank you for saving me.”

Ji Yan didn’t respond. He sat beside Jing Yuan and addressed the band below, “Can you accompany ‘Gaspard de la Nuit’?”

The conductor nodded slowly. “Yes.”

Ignored once again, Jing Yuan cursed a few more times in his heart. In his indignation, he was suddenly pulled closer as Ji Yan wrapped an arm around his waist, then took his hand, completely enveloping him in his embrace.

Jing Yuan had a small frame, and nestled against Ji Yan, he seemed to disappear.

“Watch the keys,” Ji Yan reminded in a low voice, then guided his fingers to dance lightly across the black and white keys. The rich bass and hauntingly full mid-tones blended harmoniously, instantly immersing all the guests in a mysterious nocturnal fantasy.

Following Ji Yan’s rhythm, memories of past performances flowed over Jing Yuan like the waters evoked by the piano piece.

Playing the piano felt like something from a distant past.

The unfamiliarity with the touch made him hesitant to show off, so he obediently followed Ji Yan’s lead in the performance.

Ji Yan’s fingertips were icy cold, sending a shiver through Jing Yuan that heightened his sensitivity. His senses seemed to amplify without him realizing it, and the air around him was filled with the scent of sandalwood and amber from the other’s suit.

With a sidelong glance, Jing Yuan took in Ji Yan’s sharp, refined features, which carried an air of aloofness. Perhaps the silver-rimmed glasses lent him a slightly gentler and more scholarly demeanor.

By the time Jing Yuan snapped back to attention, the piece had already reached its final note.

Applause filled the air around them.

Rong Qing had just arrived in the main hall and happened to witness Ji Yan holding Jing Yuan as they completed the last note.

The smile on his face froze imperceptibly.

Noticing this, Rong Bing curiously followed his gaze. Upon seeing the intimate scene between Ji Yan and Jing Yuan, he let out a soft snort. “Didn’t you say you could win Ji Yan over? Why is he getting closer and closer to that sickly Jing family heir?”

Rong Qing’s expression darkened. “Brother Ji Yan seems to have changed all of a sudden. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Rong Bing looked skeptical. “I heard the Ji Corporation is about to secure a massive overseas investment, and their growth is only going to accelerate. You’d better hurry up and don’t let the two of them actually get married.”

Rong Qing replied softly, “Mm.”

On stage, Jing Yuan was still basking in the applause, his face beaming with pride.

Ji Yan watched him with an inscrutable smile.

What was there to be proud of?

He hadn’t performed the entire piece, only a selected passage. Playing with such a light touch wasn’t suitable for such a challenging composition—a brief, delicate display was more appropriate.

Still held by Ji Yan, Jing Yuan muttered, “Not bad.”

Ji Yan withdrew his hand and adjusted his glasses. “Is that a compliment?”

Jing Yuan replied, “Oh.”

Ji Yan said, “It’s not enough. I’m not satisfied.”

Jing Yuan rolled his eyes inwardly but didn’t dare act out. Under the oppressive influence, he reluctantly offered insincere praise.

“Your piano skills are truly a masterpiece of craftsmanship.”

A knowing, cold laugh followed.

“Hah!”

Jing Yuan immediately fixed his gaze on Ji Yan, a hint of wariness in his eyes.

Ji Yan glanced at him and smiled gently. “Let’s go.”

“Oh.” Jing Yuan obediently let Ji Yan lead him away. As they passed the young man who had invited him on stage earlier, he couldn’t resist asking, “So, how was our performance just now?”

The young man was the son of the Lan family, who had been Jing Yuan’s high school classmate and had never gotten along with him.

In front of Ji Yan, how could he dare to criticize?

So Young Master Lan smiled and said, “You played very well.”

Jing Yuan raised his palm. “My performance fee is 100,000 per session. Will that be WeChat or Alipay?”

Young Master Lan’s smile instantly froze. “What?”

Jing Yuan retorted, “Which part didn’t you understand?”

Young Master Lan looked at Ji Yan in disbelief, as if seeking confirmation. “A fee?”

Ji Yan’s expression remained calm. “I don’t charge, but as for Jing Yuan, I’m not sure.”

Young Master Lan was nearly speechless. “…What do you mean, you’re not sure?”

Unwilling to participate in such an embarrassing situation, Ji Yan reminded Jing Yuan before leaving, “Remember to ask Chen Tian for the wheelchair after you collect the money. I’ll go mingle first.”

Jing Yuan gave a wink. “Bye.”

After Ji Yan left, only the two of them remained.

Jing Yuan teased him, “If you don’t pay, it’s fine. Consider it as you enjoying my performance for free.”

Young Master Lan was so angry he could hardly speak. “Who’s enjoying you for free? I invited you to perform—you went up there voluntarily.”

“Of course I didn’t do it willingly,” Jing Yuan retorted anxiously. His agitation irritated his windpipe, triggering a violent coughing fit that drained all color from his face.

“Fine, I’ll let you have this one for free.”

Clutching his chest, Jing Yuan weakly dragged himself back to his wheelchair. At first glance, his damp eyes made him look as if he had suffered immense injustice.

Young Master Lan stood frozen in place, unsure of what to do.

…

The banquet soon concluded.

Though exhausted upon returning home, Jing Yuan was in good spirits. After bathing, he wrapped himself in a Dalmatian-patterned blanket, sat cross-legged, and resumed working on his fitness plan.

His exercise regimen had been put on hold recently. But with his condition steadily improving, it was time to pick it back up.

Meanwhile, in the study, Ji Yan was working.

Chen Tian, who prepared his coffee, noticed that Ji Yan’s mood and temperament had significantly improved over the past couple of days—especially after performing with Jing Yuan that evening.

But Chen Tian didn’t dare ask too many questions. Ji Yan was inherently suspicious and sensitive, and Chen Tian worried that prying might lead to unnecessary overthinking.

“Chen Tian, look into Sand’s background for me.”

Chen Tian nodded. “Understood.”

Setting aside the draft contract, Ji Yan leaned back in his chair, crossing his long legs. His gaze carried a rare ease.

He was now certain Sand was problematic, and Jing Yuan had helped him secure the maximum profit share. His next step was to lure Sand into a trap and uncover the true motive behind Sand’s approach.

If possible, he intended to claim not only the 4 billion euros but all future profits as well.

Resting his head on his hand, Ji Yan pondered why Jing Yuan had helped him…

…

Lately, Jing Yuan had suddenly become lethargic. He either lounged in bed snacking or curled up on the sofa binge-watching dramas. If not for Chen Tian knowing there was nothing between Jing Yuan and Ji Yan, he might have suspected Jing Yuan was pregnant.

Director Li continued to see Jing Yuan for weekly check-ups. Strangely, while Jing Yuan’s pulse grew steadily stronger, his physical condition seemed to weaken day by day.

The director, with fifty years of experience, was deeply troubled. He even considered consulting colleagues to hold a joint diagnosis for Jing Yuan.

Of course, only Jing Yuan knew the real reason for his fatigue. Every night, in the quiet of his room, a slender figure could be heard panting and grunting while lifting homemade one-kilogram dumbbells.

Jing Yuan could now sustain exercise for ten minutes straight, a clear improvement in his stamina.

He hadn’t forgotten about Manhe either. After the security guard had given him the HR manager’s WeChat, Jing Yuan sent over his details and received enthusiastic approval. An interview was scheduled for that evening.

Jing Yuan was applying to be Manhe Bar’s mascot—specifically, the person in charge of playing music.

Since Manhe had high hiring standards, with appearance being the top priority, Jing Yuan’s looks easily got him through the initial screening.

That night, Jing Yuan stuffed pillows under his blankets and sneaked out using a secluded path he had discovered around the Ji estate.

Recently, he had been going to bed at 8 a.m. every morning, and Chen Tian and the others were aware, so no one usually disturbed him.

The path Jing Yuan knew well was behind the grape trellis, near a gap in the fence. The openings weren’t large, but Jing Yuan had secretly sawed off one of the bars. With his slim build, slipping through was effortless.

Moreover, the grape trellis area was rarely monitored, and the cut bar was hidden by the vines, making it nearly impossible to detect.

After arriving at Manhe without a hitch, Jing Yuan passed the interview and obediently followed the supervisor to get his makeup done.

The supervisor, seeing his delicate appearance and young age, assumed he was a college student working part-time and treated him with some consideration.

His daily work hours were two, with an hourly wage of 20. A special arrangement, as he had told HR that he was in poor health.

After all, HR was quite willing to keep such a handsome young man as a mascot for their bar.

At Manhe, everyone had to wear makeup, which suited Jing Yuan just fine. The patrons here were all wealthy young masters and ladies of Ningcheng, and it was only a matter of time before he was recognized.

So he specifically pleaded, “Could you make my makeup a bit heavier?”

The makeup artist raised a delicate finger. “No problem, pretty boy.”

Jing Yuan shuddered, changed into his uniform, and put on a half-face fox mask over the right side of his face before heading to the bar’s main hall.

As soon as he entered, a mix of strong perfumes instantly assaulted his senses.

Jing Yuan, with his sensitive airways, immediately started coughing.

The supervisor, aware of his poor health, asked indirectly, “Xiao Jing, what exactly is your illness?”

Jing Yuan replied weakly, “It’s a mix of eight or nine conditions—hard to explain.”

The supervisor: “…” This kid really has it rough.

Walking through the narrow corridor, Jing Yuan clutched his aching chest and sighed delicately. If it weren’t for his mission to find the protagonist shou, he wouldn’t be suffering here.

Just then, a few men approached them from the opposite direction.

“Ji Yan, what brings you here today?”

“Work isn’t too busy, and going home is boring anyway.”