The Sickly Double Doesn't Want to Be Spoiled - Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Not without a backup…

The sky won’t fall…

Even after returning home and tucking himself into bed, Meng Yuan couldn’t snap out of the trance caused by those two sentences.

It was as if a new train of thought had been opened for him. Meng Yuan suddenly realized that perhaps he wasn’t truly that cowardly or useless by nature. Perhaps it was simply because the “old him” had never had any backup, nor any way out.

In his past life, a single wrong step could have led to eternal damnation. He didn’t dare make mistakes, so he could only live cautiously and tremulously. Thinking back on his life, he felt he had never truly done anything wrong, yet he had indeed lived a difficult and scrappy existence.

Meng Yuan lay on the bed, staring blankly at the snow-white ceiling. He felt a bit lost, a bit like crying; he felt a delayed sense of grievance that crossed a vast distance to suddenly well up in his heart.

…

Fortunately, tomorrow will be a new day.

When he got up, Meng Yuan saw the brilliant sunshine outside and felt incredibly grateful to have a second life. He absolutely could not waste it this time. Meng Yuan calculated what he wanted to do today.

The amount of activity this body could endure was very small, and his energy was poor, but for simple relaxation and fun, it should be no problem. Just thinking about it made Meng Yuan feel happy. There were still many places he hadn’t been and many fresh things he hadn’t tried.

While brushing his teeth, the “him” in the mirror suddenly had a mouth full of pink foam, likely a bit of gum bleeding again. Meng Yuan was not surprised by this scene. He had been scared at first, but now he was used to it; if it wasn’t a nosebleed, it was bleeding gums. No matter how strictly he was treated, the symptoms wouldn’t ease much.

Knock, knock! A knock sounded at the door.

“Come in!”

Qin Qing came to call Meng Yuan for breakfast. Seeing him propped up against the sink with the pink foam not yet wiped clean, she immediately grew worried.

“Bleeding again?”

“It’s fine,” Meng Yuan rinsed the toothpaste foam away with water, washed his face, and turned to look at Qin Qing with a beaming smile. “It’s normal. I don’t feel uncomfortable.”

His face was very pale, and after long-term anemia, even his fingertips lacked color, but his spirit was high and radiant. He seemed full of hope for the future.

The more Qin Qing looked, the more her heart ached. She consoled him, “Don’t be afraid, Xiao Yuan. The hospital is doing its best to find a matching bone marrow. We will definitely be able to cure it.”

It can’t be cured, Meng Yuan said in his heart.

His character only occupied a very small portion of the novel. The real plot only unfolded after his death; the ending was predestined.

“Mhm,” he smiled at Qin Qing. “I’m not afraid.”

He truly wasn’t afraid. For every day he regained, he felt very, very happy.

Today’s breakfast was steamed egg custard with shrimp and yam-red date-millet porridge, plus two small flower buns. Meng Yuan ate very contentedly.

“Sister Qin Qing, let’s go out and play,” Meng Yuan suddenly said to Qin Qing at the dining table.

“Sure!” Qin Qing’s eyes lit up. “Where does Xiao Yuan want to go?”

“Anywhere is fine,” Meng Yuan said longingly. “I just want to walk around outside more. Can we go today? Any place is fine.”

Qin Qing looked a bit troubled. “I’m afraid today won’t work. You have to go home today.”

“Home?”

It took Meng Yuan a second to realize Qin Qing was referring to the Meng family.

“Go back for what?”

According to what Meng Yuan currently knew, the original owner had moved out of the Meng house to live on his own about a year ago.

Qin Qing said, “Your eldest sister hosts a tea party at home once a month. She said she invited you several times before and you didn’t go. There are more guests this time, and many of them overlap with your wedding guest list. It wouldn’t be appropriate if you didn’t show up again.”

“I see…” Meng Yuan propped his chin in thought.

“It’s okay,” Qin Qing said quickly, fearing he might be sad. “Tomorrow and the day after are free. We can go out to play anytime.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Meng Yuan laughed reassuringly. “I can go, no problem.”

During these days at home, he had nothing to do but surf the internet every day. One benefit of being born into a wealthy family was that the internet was full of various gossip. Meng Yuan didn’t need much effort to understand the gist: although the original owner had five older siblings, they were not from the same mother, and their relationships were mediocre.

The internal competition in the Meng family was very severe, while the original owner was an outsider drifting on the edge. Therefore, it didn’t seem to matter if he “blew his cover”; no one would care. Going anywhere to play was still playing, and visiting the Meng house was the same. Speaking of which, he was also curious about the environment the original owner grew up in.

In Qin Qing’s eyes, this look made him seem like an unloved yet optimistic child, so sensible it made one’s heart ache. The affection in Qin Qing’s eyes was almost overflowing. “Don’t be afraid when you go home. Straighten your back. You have Lu Cong backing you up now—no one dares to bully you!”

Meng Yuan pursed his lips. Backing me up?

He remembered what Lu Cong said last night: “Our reputations are tied together,” “You being bullied is equivalent to slapping my face!”

That air of arrogance… he was completely like a proud peacock with his head held high. He hadn’t felt it then, but thinking back now, it was strangely a bit funny. Meng Yuan couldn’t help but laugh, quickly using his hand to press down the corners of his mouth.

“I know, Sister Qin Qing,” he obediently patted his chest and promised. “I won’t be afraid!”

…

In the afternoon, the car taking him to the Meng house stopped at the door. He might have to stay overnight, so Meng Yuan brought a change of clothes, checked his medications one by one, packed them into a specialized bag, and headed out with his luggage.

The business van door opened automatically. The driver reached out to protect his forehead. Meng Yuan had just stepped one foot in when he stopped.

Inside the car, the “proud peacock” shot a glance at him. Seeing his luggage bag, Lu Cong frowned:

“Are you planning to move back?”

Meng Yuan didn’t understand. He got in and put the luggage aside. “No, it’s just a change of clothes for one night,” he said honestly.

Lu Cong looked at this and felt somewhat uncomfortable. Although Meng Yuan was twenty and would be a “family man” in a couple of days after they registered their marriage, the guy looked too young. Sometimes he seemed a bit dazed—obedient, yes, but always a bit “clumsy.”

For example, right now, Meng Yuan had carried his own luggage onto the car, buckled his seatbelt, and sat obediently in his seat with his legs together and hands on his knees. He looked exactly like a high school dropout going far from home to work for the first time. His large eyes looked toward Lu Cong, clearer than a college student’s, making Lu Cong feel like a bastard committing marriage fraud.

Lu Cong considered himself to have a bad temper, low bottom lines, and a “profit first” mindset, but even he wasn’t so low as to scam such a little fellow.

“In the future, let the driver or assistant carry things for you,” Lu Cong said. “Don’t huff and puff carrying big bags yourself.”

As he spoke, he continued to scrutinize Meng Yuan’s attire today. Without a stylist’s design, this guy had transformed from the center-of-attention little prince at yesterday’s banquet into a “dull goose” T-shirt, shorts, and canvas shoes. Who still dresses like this these days?

Meng Yuan followed Lu Cong’s gaze and looked himself over from top to bottom, his toes nervously pressing together.

“Is something… wrong?”

Did he look very bad today? But the original owner’s shirts were all loud and gaudy, which Meng Yuan couldn’t appreciate. He had put together an outfit according to his own aesthetic. He thought it was okay, actually quite nice.

“Not quite okay,” Lu Cong said heartlessly.

Meng Yuan: “…”

“In the future, I’ll arrange for a stylist to come over. He will coordinate your daily outfits for you,” Lu Cong said.

Meng Yuan lowered his head. “Oh…”

“Unhappy?” Lu Cong watched his expression.

“No,” Meng Yuan shook his head, then looked up expectantly. “Is my taste really that bad?”

Lu Cong fell into a sudden silence. His right hand rested naturally on his thigh, his fingertips tapping thoughtfully as if in deep deliberation.

“Not entirely,” he said. “Sometimes, you can burst forth with startling judgment and extraordinary aesthetic sense.”

Meng Yuan’s eyes lit up. Like a small animal seeking praise, his fluffy head nudged closer to Lu Cong.

Lu Cong took the opportunity to pat his head. “For instance, choosing me as your marriage partner.”

Meng Yuan: “…?”