The Sickly Beauty Can’t Escape the Obsessive Lover - Chapter 13

Hearing the familiar name, Jing Yuan’s footsteps faltered abruptly.

Ji Yan was here at Manhe too?

What kind of incredible luck was this?

Just for a moment.

As he brushed past Ji Yan, Jing Yuan hurriedly lowered his head but couldn’t resist glancing back.

Ji Yan probably hadn’t noticed him—his tall, imposing figure quickly disappeared down the corridor.

The floor manager, noticing Jing Yuan hadn’t caught up, looked at him curiously. “Stop staring, that’s President Ji.”

Jing Yuan slowly withdrew his gaze. “Oh.”

The floor manager, around thirty years old and with a decade of experience at Manhe, said meaningfully, “Even though President Ji stands out, very few dare to throw themselves at him.”

Jing Yuan was puzzled. “Why?”

The manager chuckled. “President Ji may look refined and handsome, but his temperament is actually quite extreme. Everyone’s afraid of him.”

Jing Yuan raised an eyebrow subtly.

Seems like everyone felt the same way.

The manager had a reason for telling Jing Yuan this. Ji Yan’s notoriety at Manhe stemmed from an incident two years ago.

Back then, an employee had taken the opportunity while serving drinks to brush her hand against Ji Yan’s leg, trying to flirt. Ji Yan’s bodyguards nearly broke her hand, and she was so terrified she resigned immediately, not even taking her lunchbox with her.

After recounting the story, the two of them crossed the bar’s main hall and headed to the backstage lounge to find the music coordinator.

“This is Xiao Jing.” The manager paused. “What’s your full name again?”

Jing Yuan nodded to the coordinator. “Midnight Rose.”

“Almost forgot we’re supposed to use stage names.” The manager patted Jing Yuan’s shoulder. “He’s a part-time college student, working from eight to ten every night, in charge of playing music. If you have anything to assign, just let him know.”

The coordinator, Li Mo, was dressed fashionably, around twenty-eight or twenty-nine, with silver-gray hair that fit right in with current youth trends.

Holding a cigarette between his lips, he tilted his chin toward Jing Yuan. “There are ten songs on the computer. When there’s no DJ performing, just play them in order.”

Jing Yuan: “OK.”

Li Mo studied Jing Yuan. “You’re a refined college student—why come here to work part-time?”

Jing Yuan grinned. “Work-study program.”

Li Mo scoffed. “Work-study by playing music? You’d make way more selling drinks. With your looks, getting customers to open six-figure bottles in one night wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Six-figure bottles? How much commission would that be?” Jing Yuan’s eyes lit up, and he couldn’t help rubbing his hands together.

Li Mo: “5% commission.”

“Wow.” Jing Yuan started calculating. “That’s five thousand a day?”

“Mhm.” Li Mo raised an eyebrow. “With your looks, you’d earn even more.”

Although Jing Yuan was wearing a mask, Li Mo could still make out his features upon closer inspection.

The boy was indeed strikingly handsome. No wonder he got hired for just two hours a day.

At that moment, Jing Yuan was completely swept up in visions of immense wealth.

Was selling drinks really that profitable?

Maybe he could come by occasionally to sell drinks. It could be a solid side hustle.

Li Mo stubbed out his cigarette. “Go familiarize yourself with the equipment. If you have any questions, come ask me.”

Jing Yuan put on a cheerful smile. “Thanks, Brother Li.”

The address “Brother Li” pleased Li Mo. He acknowledged it with a sound, then turned and hopped onto the stage to start mixing.

Jing Yuan’s spot was on the right side of the stage, close to the speakers. Feeling the overwhelming blast of sound from the speakers, his heart trembled, and his ears felt muffled and uncomfortable.

To cope, he put on ear protectors, and only then did his whole body relax a little.

The people on the dance floor swayed freely to the music.

Jing Yuan rested his chin quietly in his hand, his mind alternating between thoughts of selling drinks and finding Yun Shu as quickly as possible.

Manhe was a members-only club, and the guests coming and going were all exceptionally distinguished.

For instance, right now, a cheerful and outgoing girl approached Jing Yuan: “Are you new staff here?”

Jing Yuan nodded, appearing quite shy.

The girl had been observing this boy wearing a fox mask for a while. As a regular at the bar, she had never seen him before.

Although he wore a fox mask, the boy’s side profile was exquisitely defined and deep, clearly that of a handsome guy.

The girl smiled playfully: “Could you play the song ‘Lucky’ for me?”

Jing Yuan replied politely: “I’ll need to check for you.”

The girl was very generous, casually placing two hundred-yuan bills next to the computer before leaving, saying: “Thanks for your trouble, consider it my treat for a coffee.”

Jing Yuan eyed the bright red bills like a sneaky kitten, quietly reaching out and swiftly stuffing them into his pocket.

Suppressing the excitement in his expression, he continued to calmly act as a mascot.

He loved Manhe.

From now on, Manhe would be his warm home.

Jing Yuan didn’t keep the tip for nothing; he scurried over to Li Mo to ask if they could play the song as a temporary insertion. Li Mo glanced at the song title and nodded.

After playing the girl’s requested “Lucky,” Jing Yuan continued to space out, keeping an eye on every corner of the hall.

Manhe’s nightclub was vast; the area of the regular seating alone was equivalent to three football fields.

He slowly scanned the room, and his gaze suddenly fell on the sofa right in the center of the stage.

That seat had a minimum spend of 100,000 per person for the night.

Just moments ago, three men had taken their seats there.

All three men had extraordinary presence, each standing around 185 cm tall.

And Ji Yan was sitting in the middle, smoking.

Jing Yuan tightened his mask, feeling curious.

Someone of Ji Yan’s status should be in a private booth discussing multi-million deals, shouldn’t he?

What was he doing in the main hall?

Just as he was lost in thought, one of the men beside Ji Yan suddenly started walking toward him.

Jing Yuan tensed up, pretending to bend down and pick something up.

He obediently crouched, fumbling around here and there, stalling for time until Ji Yan’s friend passed by.

Unexpectedly, a pair of black leather shoes stopped in front of the table.

“Excuse me, could I request a song?”

Jing Yuan held his breath.

Three seconds later, a face wearing an Ultraman mask cautiously peeked out.

Chen Jifeng was taken aback: “Are you staff?”

Jing Yuan clung to the edge of the table, nodding sneakily.

Chen Jifeng handed him a card: “Could you play a song for me?”

Jing Yuan took the card and typed a few words on his phone: “I’ll ask my supervisor for you.”

Chen Jifeng nodded politely: “Thank you.”

Before leaving, Chen Jifeng curiously glanced at Jing Yuan a couple more times. Were they hiring people with disabilities at bars now?

…

After getting Li Mo’s permission, Jing Yuan started playing the song Chen Jifeng had requested.

Fortunately, he was quick-witted and found an Ultraman mask under the table. Otherwise, the half-face fox mask definitely wouldn’t have been enough to cover his face.

As he played the music, Jing Yuan felt utterly exhausted. There was still an hour left until his shift ended; he had to endure a little longer.

With the Ultraman mask on, he began to scrutinize Ji Yan without restraint. From the moment Ji Yan sat down, he maintained the same posture. A cigarette held between his fingertips, not laughing or joking with his friends. His expression was silent and melancholic, as if burdened by heavy thoughts, only occasionally responding with a few words.

When they met in the hallway, Ji Yan had mentioned that going home wasn’t interesting, hadn’t he?

Jing Yuan grew resentful.

A man’s words are as deceptive as a ghost.

Ji Yan claimed to love him every day, yet he still didn’t want to come home?

He crossed his legs, wiped the cold sweat from his temple with his sleeve, and leaned back in his chair, narrowing his eyes.

On the other side, Chen Jifeng and Xie Lin sat on either side of Ji Yan, discussing Jing Yuan.

“Should I give Ultraman a tip too?”

Xie Lin, holding a wine glass, smiled. “Probably.”

Across from them, Ultaman didn’t seem to know what he was doing—propping his chin up, amusing himself, and occasionally resting his head on the table when he got tired.

Chen Jifeng gestured and said a few words to the person beside him, and his assistant immediately approached Jing Yuan.

“He seems to be disabled and can’t speak.”

Xie Lin chuckled in surprise. “HR probably hired him for tax exemptions.”

Chen Jifeng muttered, “Crafty businessman.”

As the owner of Manhe, Xie Lin didn’t involve himself in the finer details, especially for positions like Jing Yuan’s, which he rarely bothered with.

Throughout it all, Ji Yan never lifted his gaze, showing no interest in their conversation.

…

Soon, the Ultraman across from them stood up and looked in their direction.

Xie Lin waved at Jing Yuan, signaling him to come over.

Jing Yuan, who had only been playing music, was caught off guard and felt instantly flustered. He walked hesitantly and cautiously, taking very small steps.

When he reached the sofa, Chen Jifeng pulled out a few bills from his wallet. “This is your tip.”

Jing Yuan froze.

So, they were giving him money?

Obediently, he made a small heart gesture over his chest, pretending to be too reserved to step forward and accept it, while sneaking a glance at Ji Yan, who was still looking down at his phone.

Perfect, just keep looking down.

Thinking Jing Yuan had reservations, Chen Jifeng added, “Take it. Your boss Xie has approved.”

Jing Yuan abruptly froze.

Ji Yan’s friend was actually the owner of Manhe?

His mind wandered for a moment, and as he took the money, he felt dazed and acted a bit recklessly.

A loud clatter echoed.

Jing Yuan immediately looked to his left—the wine bottle he had knocked over was tipping toward Ji Yan.

In just two seconds.

Ji Yan’s suit pants were soaked through.

Before Jing Yuan could process it, his slender arm was suddenly gripped by Ji Yan’s hand.

What met his eyes were a pair of indifferent, cold brown eyes.