The Sickly Beauty Can’t Escape the Obsessive Lover - Chapter 18

The sudden encounter left both Ji Yan and Ning Jin momentarily stunned. Ning Jin, in particular, wore a hesitant and probing expression, unsure whether Jing Yuan had overheard his confession.

Ji Yan’s gaze remained calm as he approached Jing Yuan, a faint smile curling his lips. “Just as well. Saves me the trouble of telling you myself.”

Jing Yuan looked up at Ji Yan, his fingers tightening slightly on the wheelchair’s armrests as regret washed over him for his impulsive decision.

He had been enjoying his meal when Chen Jifeng and the others, noticing Ji Yan’s prolonged absence, asked about him. To show his concern for his fiancé, Jing Yuan reluctantly bid farewell to his lobster, wiped the corners of his mouth, and hurriedly wheeled himself over to find Ji Yan.

Coincidentally, he had unintentionally overheard Ning Jin questioning their impending marriage.

And he had also heard Ji Yan’s response.

Jing Yuan lowered his eyes, filled with frustration.

He shouldn’t have made his presence known.

If he had stayed silent, he could have pretended he hadn’t heard anything.

Ji Yan loved him so deeply—what if he called off the wedding and Ji Yan turned hostile?

His health hadn’t fully recovered yet; even working for two hours at Manhe left him exhausted. If he tried to run away, Ji Yan’s resources would likely track him down swiftly.

Most importantly—

His wallet was still far from full.

Ji Yan watched Jing Yuan’s conflicted expression intently, his gaze unwavering.

“Yuan Yuan, what’s on your mind?” Ji Yan crouched down, meeting Jing Yuan at eye level. “We’ve been engaged for two months now. It’s time we discussed our wedding.”

Jing Yuan was panicking internally but managed to force an eager smile, clasping his hands together with feigned excitement. “Of course! I hope we can have the most perfect wedding ceremony.”

Ji Yan observed Jing Yuan’s theatrical display with a low chuckle, taking his hand gently. “I’ll make sure you’re completely satisfied.”

The affectionate scene unfolding before them made Ning Jin feel awkward, especially in light of the conversation he and Ji Yan had just shared, which now felt particularly ironic.

Suppressing his disappointment, Ning Jin maintained his polite demeanor. “Congratulations.”

Jing Yuan smiled stiffly.

He just wasn’t sure what exactly there was to celebrate.

…

After lunch, Jing Yuan felt exhausted.

He lay sprawled on the soft, comfortable bed like a boneless little snake, replaying Ji Yan’s confession in the restroom.

He acknowledged his own considerable charm and interesting personality.

But was Ji Yan really this infatuated with him?

Was he truly this eager to get married?

Jing Yuan sighed softly, propping his chin on his hand as he sat up cross-legged. He picked up his thermal cup, filled with a brew of astragalus, goji berries, and codonopsis, and took a leisurely sip.

Just then, his phone buzzed with a WeChat notification.

[Jing Baiwei: I’ve got news about what you asked me to look into.]

Jing Yuan quickly replied, “Did you find a suitable place?”

[Jing Baiwei: Yes, at No. 12 Baijin Street in the city center. The total area is 3,000 square meters, and it has excellent foot traffic, so the monthly rent is 200,000.]

Jing Yuan: “Great! Thanks, big brother! Cat sending hearts emoji.”

Jing Baiwei’s reply seemed to lag, taking a while before he responded: “No need to thank me. We’re family.”

The location Jing Yuan had asked Jing Baiwei to scout was for his tea house. If the tea business took off, he could sell it later for a tidy profit—a solid investment for his future escape plan.

His current liquid assets amounted to just over 11 million. While that would be enough to invest in the tea house, adding in costs for renovations, labor, and raw materials for the next six months would stretch his finances thin.

He hadn’t touched the credit card Ji Yan had given him. Though he hadn’t hesitated to ask for it, actually spending five million on setting up the tea house felt too embarrassing.

Jing Yuan pulled out the black card, his delicate and handsome brows slightly furrowed.

Just then, Ji Yan returned to the room after chatting with friends.

Seeing Jing Yuan clutching the credit card with a conflicted expression, Ji Yan asked softly, “What’s on your mind?”

Jing Yuan didn’t hide it. Sooner or later, Ji Yan would find out about the tea business anyway.

“I want to start a business, but I’m short on capital.”

“You? Starting a business?” Ji Yan raised his cool, elegant eyebrows, intrigued. “What kind of business do you want to run?”

Jing Yuan beckoned him over. “Come here, and I’ll tell you about my grand ambitions.”

Staring into those bright, excited eyes, Ji Yan leisurely removed his wristwatch and, as he walked over, casually unbuttoned his shirt collar.

Jing Yuan at that moment resembled a kitten wagging its tail.

Lazily settling into a chair, Ji Yan crossed his long legs. “Go on.”

Jing Yuan straightened up, pulled out the materials he had prepared in advance, and began explaining everything enthusiastically to Ji Yan.

He had been planning this for a long time.

He even knew which remote mountain villages produced the most fragrant tea leaves.

Moreover, the original host of his body had majored in finance in university, so he had a slight understanding of business operations.

After finishing his explanation, Jing Yuan slid the proposal over to Ji Yan. “What do you think?”

Ji Yan didn’t know Jing Yuan’s true origins, but from his ideas, he could tell there was still a childlike essence inside.

He said calmly, “Your market analysis is fairly accurate, but there are gaps in the research data.”

Jing Yuan leaned in closer to Ji Yan. “So, do you think my tea business has competitive potential?”

Ji Yan replied, “Positioning it as a high-end tea house isn’t bad. But—” He curved his lips into a slight smile. “It requires a strong network of connections.”

Jing Yuan paused for a moment, then lifted his face. “Connections? You mean making sure all the wealthy people in Ning City know about my tea house?”

Ji Yan said, “More or less.”

Like a wriggling little earthworm, Jing Yuan propped his chin on his hands as he lay by the bed, gazing at Ji Yan. “Then, could you lend me some money? I can’t even afford labor costs upfront, let alone promotion.”

Ji Yan tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest, his gaze falling on the black card in Jing Yuan’s hand. “That credit card has a limit of ten million. Isn’t that enough?”

Jing Yuan was stunned for a couple of seconds. “Oh, it is.”

He understood that Ji Yan’s implication was: why not just use the credit card instead of borrowing money from him?

“But business is business. I don’t want to take your money for free.”

This statement took Ji Yan by surprise.

In his eyes, Jing Yuan was an out-and-out little money-grubber.

“You want me to invest?”

“Not invest—lend me a loan.”

Jing Yuan was quite clear-headed in this regard.

If Ji Yan really became an investor, he would surely catch wind of it immediately if Jing Yuan ever decided to sell the tea business in the future.

Ji Yan picked up the proposal again, his tone meaningful. “How much does Yuanyuan want to borrow from me?”

Jing Yuan did some quick calculations and held up six fingers. “Six million.”

Ji Yan countered, “What about the interest?”

“Interest?” Jing Yuan mumbled shamelessly, “There has to be interest?”

Ji Yan didn’t back down. “How can there be a loan without interest?”

Jing Yuan frowned. “How do you want to calculate it?”

Ji Yan said, “10% annual interest.”

That figure was actually quite reasonable.

Much more conscientious than loan sharks.

Jing Yuan pursed his lips. “Deal.”

Ji Yan didn’t understand why Jing Yuan suddenly wanted to open a tea house and thoughtfully voiced his curiosity.

To this, Jing Yuan gave a vague explanation: “A man should have his own career, you know?”

Ji Yan gave a strange smile, as if the person who had confidently declared he was only responsible for spending money that day wasn’t Jing Yuan at all.

However, he didn’t mind this. As long as Jing Yuan trusted him and helped him fulfill his wish, he could do whatever he wanted.

“We’re going to the back mountain this afternoon to play live-action CS. Do you want to come?”

Ji Yan studied Jing Yuan’s flushed cheeks, the scene from the surveillance footage that night resurfacing in his mind.

Jing Yuan’s health seemed to be improving.

Jing Yuan’s eyes lit up, clearly interested in the game. But he hesitated, worried that his physical condition wouldn’t allow for intense movement and that he’d lose the match. “I can’t run. I’ll definitely lose.”

The original owner had organic heart issues—though the symptoms were mild, only involving myocardial ischemia and a ventricular septal defect—the doctor still advised against strenuous exercise.

Ji Yan said, “This game tests marksmanship and agility. Not being able to run won’t affect it much. Participation is what matters most.”

Jing Yuan pursed his lips. “So, you want me to go?”

Even Ji Yan was momentarily caught off guard by this twist of logic.

“Of course,” he replied after a moment’s thought, his voice low.

Jing Yuan immediately knelt in front of the pillow, hiding his wallet underneath. “Alright, let’s go together.”

Ji Yan glanced at the hiding spot and slowly curved his lips into a smile.

…

The back mountain of the resort had many thrilling adventure activities.

When Jing Yuan leisurely arrived in his wheelchair, he noticed many familiar faces.

Rong Qing, along with the lackeys who had cornered him that day, were all there.

Seeing Jing Yuan, Rong Qing’s good mood instantly vanished without a trace. He had been delighted to hear that Ji Yan was coming, but he hadn’t expected this clingy nuisance to tag along.

Wasn’t he so sick he had to use a wheelchair? What was he even doing here?

Rong Qing’s disgust for Jing Yuan was palpable. Fortunately, the young master of the Ming family beside him held him back, and his expression softened slightly.

“Brother Ji Yan,” Rong Qing greeted Ji Yan proactively.

Ji Yan merely nodded and pushed Jing Yuan toward Chen Jifeng.

As they passed Rong Qing, Jing Yuan’s dark eyes curved subtly. He lazily rested his chin on Ji Yan’s arm as he pushed the wheelchair, his gaze innocent and naive.

Rong Qing’s face turned pale with anger. “Green tea.”

…

There were nine people playing CS.

The rules were simple: one person would be chosen as the king, and the remaining eight would form two teams of four. The red sensor on their chests would record hits—accumulating more than four hits would result in elimination.

The king didn’t belong to any team and operated alone. The team that eliminated the king first would win outright.

Alternatively, if the king accumulated more than four eliminations, the king would win directly.

After the draw, Ji Yan was chosen as the king, while Jing Yuan was grouped with Ning Jin, Chen Jifeng, and the young master of the Ming family.

In the toolbox, CS weapons lay quietly, crafted with striking realism.

It reminded Jing Yuan of the one in Ji Yan’s drawer.

Seeing everyone gather to pick their preferred weapons, Jing Yuan didn’t rush forward. Instead, he leisurely wheeled his chair to a quiet spot nearby to take in the full view of the CS battlefield.

He had to admit, the setup was meticulously done, almost indistinguishable from a real rainforest. It promised to be quite thrilling.

Jing Yuan loved this kind of game but worried his stamina wouldn’t hold up. Just before heading into the battlefield, he chewed on some ginseng slices to replenish his energy.

At that moment, a mocking laugh sounded beside him.

“You’re already this sick, yet you still insist on coming to such a remote place. Are you afraid someone will steal Brother Ji Yan away?”

Jing Yuan held the ginseng slice in his mouth, his tone soft and sweet: “Ji Yan was the one who brought me here.”

“What?” Rong Qing clearly didn’t believe it, his face flushing with anger at the remark.

Jing Yuan didn’t want to argue with him. Winning every time was getting boring.

He adjusted the direction of his wheelchair, preparing to slip away.

“Jing Yuan! Don’t think that just because you’re engaged to Ji Yan, he’ll distance himself from you because of me. We grew up together, playing side by side when you were probably still playing in the mud somewhere.”

Rong Qing’s emotions were unstable, thoroughly provoked by Jing Yuan’s indifferent attitude.

Jing Yuan, feeling the cold, buried his chin in his collar: “Oh.”

That single “Oh” instantly ignited Rong Qing’s temper.

He blurted out recklessly: “Jing, haven’t you heard the saying ‘a newcomer can never compare to a childhood friend’? Our Rong family’s status is on par with Ji Yan’s. Don’t get too cocky! It won’t be long before you’re kicked out. Then you can join your bankrupt parents in running from debt collectors.”

Rong Qing’s incessant chatter gave Jing Yuan a headache.

He sighed silently, accidentally inhaling a mouthful of cold air. His windpipe suddenly ached, and he couldn’t suppress a coughing fit.

“Cough, cough, cough…”

Seeing the other person cough until his face turned pale, Rong Qing sensed trouble. When he looked up, he noticed everyone in the distance turning to stare in their direction.

His expression sharpened, and he suddenly felt a pang of guilt.

Seeing Jing Yuan clutching his chest, Ji Yan quickly strode over, followed by Ning Jin and Chen Jifeng.

As the group approached, Rong Qing hurriedly tried to clear himself: “Brother Ji Yan, I didn’t do anything.”

Hearing Ji Yan’s name, Jing Yuan struggled to lift his head.

But he had no time to speak to Ji Yan. His furrowed brows looked exceptionally frail, and he coughed as if he could barely catch his breath.

The cold air seemed to swirl in his windpipe, chilling his entire chest with pain. His eyes were noticeably red-rimmed.

Ji Yan had initially thought Jing Yuan was acting, but as he drew closer, his expression turned grave: “Jing Yuan.”

He raised an arm and gently patted Jing Yuan’s back.

Jing Yuan weakly lifted his head, his slightly damp eyes fluttering faintly. Then, as if reassured, he leaned against Ji Yan’s arm and closed his eyes weakly.

That one gulp of cold air had nearly been the death of him.

Chen Jifeng and the others had all gathered, glancing between the frail Jing Yuan and Rong Qing.

It was clear something had happened between the two.

Ji Yan’s tall frame half-crouched beside Jing Yuan, his fingertips gently wiping the tears from the other’s eyelashes.

“Rong Qing, what happened?”

Ji Yan turned to look at Rong Qing. Behind his silver-rimmed glasses, his dark pupils were focused and calm, but a stern edge traced the line of his brows.

Rong Qing hurriedly defended himself: “I didn’t do anything! He suddenly started coughing like this.”

By now, Jing Yuan had caught his breath. He secretly glanced at Ji Yan, his eyes regaining their liveliness as he quietly contemplated something.

“Ji Yan, just now Rong Qing said that ‘a newcomer can never compare to a childhood friend’ and that you’ll eventually grow tired of me.”

After saying this, Jing Yuan covered his chest and coughed lightly again.

“He also said you’ll stop caring for me soon.”

Jing Yuan spoke with increasing grievance, wrapping his arms around Ji Yan’s neck and whimpering softly like a spoiled child.

The accused Rong Qing instantly grew nervous.

“I—I was just quoting an old saying!”

Rong Qing’s voice grew more uncertain as he spoke.

Jing Yuan, who had just managed to calm down, grew emotional again. His glass-like eyes gazed innocently at Ji Yan: “Is that saying true?”

Ji Yan met Jing Yuan’s gaze and suddenly smiled meaningfully.

Chen Jifeng, Xie Lin, and the others grew increasingly curious about the unfolding scene before them, exchanging glances as they awaited Ji Yan’s answer.

Rong Qing, at this moment, looked toward Ji Yan, his hands tightly clutching the hem of his clothes, hoping that Ji Yan would spare him some dignity in light of their years of shared affection.

With so many people present, if word got out, he would likely become the laughingstock of their social circle for a year.

In an instant, Rong Qing’s cheeks flushed with heat and embarrassment.

“Of course not,” Ji Yan leisurely rose to his feet, lowering his gaze to meet Jing Yuan’s wandering eyes, knowing full well that the other was no longer in any real distress.

Letting Jing Yuan lean against his waist, Ji Yan rested his palm on the nape of his neck and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“It depends on the person.”

“For me, a destined encounter is what truly matters.”