Chapter 19#
Ji Yang actually had a premonition about the phantom limb pain episode.
He was mentally prepared for it too.
Unlike the lingering ache from the previous night, phantom limb pain tended to arrive more suddenly—swift, fierce, and unbearable. The painkillers he’d taken before the banquet felt like they had done absolutely nothing at all.
In the second-to-last guest room on the second-floor corridor, Ji Yang was laid down by the bedside. He stripped off his jacket, rolled onto the bed, and quickly curled up, hugging his knees.
He lay on his side, half-buried in the covers, and seemed to hear Nie Xu on the phone.
He looked up and saw only a silhouette standing by the window.
Outside Yuming Pavilion, rain poured in torrents. The drumming of rain against glass mixed with the clamor of dispersing guests downstairs and the rumble of cars starting up.
A dim, hazy yellow light was on in the room.
Ji Yang heard him say something: “Two-year pain history… just stopped medication… mm, no one’s around, come in.”
Soon, there was knocking on the door from outside.
The person who entered was a young man Ji Yang didn’t recognize. His upturned brows and eyes gave him a rakish, carefree look. He carried a medical case and had a doctor’s equipment on him, though he didn’t look entirely like a doctor.
Ji Yang lay on his stomach, eyes open, meeting the man’s gaze.
“Ho.” The man seemed startled by him, then complained to Nie Xu: “I thought you knocked him out before calling me. Seeing a pair of pretty eyeballs pop up out of nowhere—gave me a real scare.” He spoke as he stepped forward, leaning in closer by a couple of steps toward the bed. “Young master, you’re not about to cry from the pain, are you?”
Ji Yang gripped the covers, gritting his teeth: “…Who’s crying.”
“Fierce, aren’t you.” The man said.
Ji Yang’s face twitched with exasperation.
Nie Xu: “If I told you to examine him, examine him. Cut the small talk.”
“If you say so, you say so.” The man set the medical case on the bedside, took out disposable rubber gloves, and chattered away while putting them on: “I’m just the blood bank for your bunch of men. When you need me, one phone call and I have to come running. When I’m useless, I get tossed aside like nothing. How am I so unlucky.”
His gaze swept downward and he spotted the material of Ji Yang’s prosthetic leg at a glance.
Then he whistled and commented: “Cool.”
Ji Yang pulled his leg back: “Wait till I get an LED multicolored night light installed on it someday. Even cooler.”
The man paused, then burst out laughing.
He glanced at Nie Xu, then turned back to Ji Yang: “No wonder certain someone made an exception for you for once. You do look easier on the eyes than before.”
Ji Yang’s chin was buried in the messy covers: “Making an exception proves I’m worth it.” Ji Yang asked: “Do you know me?”
“That name truly resounds like thunder.” The man took a syringe from the medical kit. “I, Qi Songqing, don’t usually treat patients—especially not members of the Ji family.” He said while gesturing: “Arm.”
Qi Songqing? He didn’t remember this character from the book.
Probably because he hadn’t finished reading it.
Ji Yang extended his arm, too weak from the pain to even rest it properly on the edge of the bed.`
This level of cooperation made the man raise an eyebrows. Without hesitation, he worked efficiently—needle went in before he spoke: “Aren’t you afraid I might inject you with something else?”
“Go ahead.” Ji Yang’s eyes were half-closed, half-dead, each word dragged out slowly: “If the lord commands death, the subject must obey. I’m already like this—two grown men can’t do anything worse than kill me and dump the body in the rain.” He was in genuine agony, yet still thoughtfully considering the other party’s interests. “The Ji family won’t actually investigate thoroughly. You can rest easy.”
The man turned to exchange a glance with Nie Xu—the look asking: Has he really turned out like this?
Isn’t he supposed to go berserk at the first sign of an episode?
Even for you as his bodyguard, it usually takes a whip to handle him.
Nie Xu looked at the person sprawled on the bed like a puddle: “No one’s that stupid. Right now, when you’ve just made such a huge stir online—killing you to silence you would be the dumbest move.”
The man pulled out the syringe and nodded in agreement: “That’s true.”
After the injection, Ji Yang immediately curled back up into himself, too exhausted to answer.
Qi Songqing glanced at him, cleaned up the waste, and turned to Nie Xu: “He’s sweating this much. His low pain tolerance is one thing, but more of it is withdrawal from the sudden cessation of medication. The painkiller I just gave him—his current condition doesn’t respond to it that well. It’s better than nothing, but not by much. I don’t have a better solution.”
Nie Xu asked: “Are you certain it’s related to the medication You Li brought you?”
Ji Yang heard this from the bed and his breathing hitched for a moment.
The quality inspector You Li had found was this Qi Songqing right here?? So after all this time, he had absolutely no secrets in front of Nie Xu whatsoever.
Ji Yang felt the urge to stare at the sky and question the heavens.
Although he hadn’t intended to hide anything in the first place.
Qi Songqing: “Severe phantom limb pain affects only a minority. For him to have had it for two years with zero improvement—barring an underlying psychological inability to accept it—we can basically conclude it’s related to the medication.” At this point, he recalled Ji Yang’s comment about installing night lights on the prosthetic, rubbed his chin, and very much wanted to retract what he’d just said, so he added: “But whether it’s more pathologically drug-induced or more psychological, I’d recommend a neurological examination with professional equipment to determine.”
Nie Xu: “Understood.”
“What do you understand, understand?” Qi Songqing said sarcastically. “Can an assistant make decisions on someone’s behalf?”
Nie Xu looked at him: “I can make decisions on yours. Want to try?”
“No, no, no.” Qi Songqing surrendered. His gaze swept past Ji Yang, and he made faces at Nie Xu as if probing, deliberately saying: “Anyway, I’ve had enough of sitting in the CTO seat at Jianyuan. Get Jiang Lei and the others out of the Ji family as soon as possible. After the incident at the docks last time, I’ve been half expecting you to call me again one day—not to treat a patient, but to collect your bodies.”
Nie Xu pretended not to hear and asked directly: “How are the arrangements I asked you to make?”
Qi Songqing: “…He had no choice but to continue straight: “The people for the selection and training are already arranged. I’ll personally deliver them to Lu Li when the time comes.”
Nie Xu: “Lu Li is the watchdog the Lu family surrendered to Ji Yansong. When necessary, feed the Lu family some false intel—they have leverage over this person.”
“Gentlemen.” Ji Yang’s voice emerged again from under the covers, soft and weak: “I have leg pain, not deafness. Thank you.”
Why are you discussing what is clearly confidential strategy right in front of me?
Qi Songqing was the Chief Technology Officer of the Jianyuan Group.
And the Lu family—the one that had once rivaled the Qi family and had deep ties with the Ji family?
Ji Yang wasn’t really interested in any of this. That Lu Li they were talking about—Ji Yang had never even met him.
Hearing Ji Yang’s reaction, Qi Songqing subtly raised an eyebrow, then turned around with an expression of sudden realization: “Sorry about that, nearly forgot you were still here.”
Ji Yang smiled: “Should I feel ashamed of my utter lack of presence?”
Putting on an act, as if he didn’t know?
Qi Songqing’s lips curved upward: “That’s not necessary.” He placed a hand on Nie Xu’s shoulder as he spoke: “I heard you were bold enough to make a deal with him and play the role of fighting over a husband. Hearing a few harmless words is no big deal. But, well, seeing as we’re fated to cross paths today, let me give you a piece of advice. He never shows mercy when it comes to using people. You—”
Qi Songqing looked him over.
“The Ji family wronged you; there’s nothing wrong with wanting revenge. But don’t let fake feelings become real.”
Ji Yang blinked. The pain didn’t seem to impede his speech: “Is that so?” Instead, it had a rather good effect of distracting him. “Coming to the police station in the middle of the night to pick me up, carrying me into the car, willing to be my assistant. And now even hiring a doctor for me.”
Ji Yang looked at Nie Xu and said softly: “Brother Xu, if this isn’t love, what is?”
His nose had turned red from rubbing against the covers. His damp hair stuck messily against his pale face. Paired with a questioning, trembling voice—it was utterly convincing.
Qi Songqing was dumbfounded.
“Professional.”
Nie Xu raised an eyebrows: “The painkiller kicked in?”
“No.” Ji Yang swept the hair from his face, blinking with ruthless honesty: “Why assume I’m the only one who could develop real feelings from a fake arrangement? Couldn’t it be that you fall for me? Look at me—I look like this. Besides my leg… being crooked! What’s wrong with me?”
In this scene—the one lying on the bed, seemingly the most vulnerable, was actually the one with the most righteous indignation.
Nie Xu met his eyes for two seconds, then turned to Qi Songqing.
“Alright, you can go now.” Nie Xu said.
Qi Songqing glanced between them and asked Nie Xu: “You’re not buckling under the pressure, are you?”
“I’m not as bored as you.” Nie Xu picked up the medical case and shoved it into his arms. “The people in the corridor have already been reassigned. Avoid the cameras on your way out. I don’t need to teach you that, do I?”
Qi Songqing grabbed the case, speechless: “Who’s more bored than you—addicted to playing bodyguard, this wooden block.”
At the door, Qi Songqing remembered something and suddenly turned back to Nie Xu: “Keep that kid You Li in line. Running around first thing in the morning, insisting I issue him some written certificate. If it weren’t for your sake, seeing as you reluctantly treat him as a younger brother, I would’ve kicked him out long ago.”
Ji Yang raised his hand, summoning the last of his strength: “I told him to ask.”
“Oh, it was you, young master.” Qi Songqing’s expression changed just as fast—he shrugged carelessly, laughing: “I’m always lenient with pretty ones. You can come find me again next time.”
The moment Qi Songqing left.
The entire room fell into sudden, heavy silence.
The rain outside seemed to intensify.
Since coming to this world, Ji Yang had started to dislike rainy days. That damp, gloomy weather—or sudden violent storms—made the pain in his body feel as if it would never end.
Ji Yang tried to continue using conversation to distract himself: “How did Qi Songqing get here so fast?”
“He was already at the banquet.” Nie Xu’s voice came from above. “Jianyuan received an invitation.”
Ji Yang’s voice was muffled, sounding sullen: “To have the Ji Corporation proactively send them an invitation, all these years without any suspicion—they’re quite impressive…” He paused at the end, because someone had handed him a small mirror from the nightstand.
Ji Yang lifted his eyelids: “What for? Mirror therapy? You know about this too?”
“I’ve seen injured people use it.” Nie Xu: “It might not work, but it’s better than you talking.”
“You just want me to shut up, don’t you.” Ji Yang was exasperated, turning his head aside: “Too lazy.”
In truth, it hurt too much and he really didn’t want to move.
“Point the mirror at your intact side. Raise the ball of your foot upward. Fifteen minutes per set, four sets total.” Ji Yang heard the sound of the mirror being set back down. “Whether you do it is up to you. I have something to handle—going out for a bit.”
Ji Yang: “Understood.”
The moment the door clicked shut, Ji Yang grabbed the covers and rolled, wrapping himself up completely.
His childhood habit for enduring pain was actually sleep. If he couldn’t fall asleep, he’d force himself to. As long as he could open his eyes the next day, he knew he had survived another day.
Perhaps the injection had some effect after all, because listening to the rain outside, he actually felt a faint drowse creep in.
It seemed like he fell into a brief sleep, or perhaps not.
When he became fully aware again, the room’s lights had gone completely dark. The rain was still falling.
The pain had actually eased by more than half.
He was no longer sweating.
Without deliberately focusing on it, it was within an endurable range.
Ji Yang fished out his phone to check—it was already four in the morning. Without potent medication, enduring the long hours was indeed more drawn out.
The phone he’d deliberately silenced—once he turned it on, the screen was flooded with trending topic notifications.
#JiYangLivestream#—after a full night, these words still sat at the very top.
Below it was more of the same.
#BanquetLivestream#
#RealFootageOfWealthyFamilyFeuds#
#JiCorporationStockFluctuation#
#JiFamilyFourthYoungest#
This was no longer the petty gossip of tabloid magazines.
This was a breakout, wide-reaching livestream that could even affect a corporate group’s stock performance.
The account “OneGentleWave”—countless people were flooding in.
By rights, such a massive public opinion event should have had someone taking the blame. But in Ji Yang’s phone, there was not a single reproach from anyone in the Ji family. Only Ji Mingyue asked him if he’d recovered, and said Grandfather told you to rest here tonight.
As expected—when a person was useful, things were different.
On the new account, there were friend requests from Fu Cheng like persistent plaster—he clearly hadn’t given up yet.
You Li also sent him two voice messages.
The moment Ji Yang played them, the high-decibel voice blasted out, startling him in the dead of night.
“Ji Yang, you’ve screwed me!”
“I just got word from Brother Lei that I’m being reassigned as a network security officer! My goal is to become a qualified bodyguard, not to spend my time scrubbing your online haters! Brother Lei said it’s a punishment—what did I do to deserve a punishment?!”
Ji Yang laughed out loud looking at his phone.
His guess was that You Li had used internal connections but failed to grasp the severity of the situation.
Ji Yang had just woken up, his voice hoarse from the pain. He replied: “Is being my online scrubber really that bad? Thinking about it—you have such a strong internet presence. Being a bodyguard really isn’t your calling.”
You Li, of all hours, was still awake.
Instant reply: “I’m not being your bodyguard because I want to be! Whoever has eight lifetimes of bad luck ends up being your bodyguard.”
Ji Yang: “Your brother?”
You Li: “Shameless.”
Ji Yang: “What’s shameless about it?”
You Li: “You’re just trying to get close to the prize by proximity. My brother isn’t that kind of person. Save your breath.”
Ji Yang: “Someone who submits to intimidation? But he carried me tonight—in front of a crowd of people, including my third brother whom you like even better. Wouldn’t that just make you furious?”
You Li gritted his teeth: “Does late night make people thick-skinned?”
Ji Yang: “Probably.”
The other end went completely silent. Ji Yang guessed You Li probably wouldn’t be sleeping tonight—and the thought made him even happier.
His foot accidentally bumped against the bed edge with a thud, reminding Ji Yang he hadn’t removed the prosthetic before falling asleep. He thought about it, then decided to get up and take it off so he could sleep a bit longer.
He lifted the covers and realized he was in dress pants—couldn’t roll them up very far.
So he simply stood up on the bed.
His hand found the waistband, fingers closing around the zipper—when suddenly something felt off.
What felt off?
Ji Yang looked up instinctively, and was genuinely startled. “Fuck!” slipped out before he could stop himself.
In the chair by the window, a figure sat there—half his body hidden in the pitch-dark night, a cold glimmer in his hand. Only those long legs stretched out, creating the illusion of having nowhere to extend beneath the small round tea table in front. It wasn’t until the man leaned forward by a couple of inches that Ji Yang could make out half a profile—and what he held, silently turning in his hand, was actually a fruit knife. Surely something that had been on the tea table to begin with. But somehow, on that ordinary fruit knife, Ji Yang felt an overwhelming, piercing chill.
Perhaps because the person holding it was so nonchalant, the feeling grew even more pronounced.
“Brother Xu?” Ji Yang soothed his racing heart and asked: “Why are you still here?”
Nie Xu’s voice rang out in the darkness: “On duty.”
These two words doused Ji Yang like a bucket of cold water—numbing him completely.
Since transmigrating, he’d never spent a night outside.
Nobody had told him that a personal bodyguard on duty would share the same room.
Ji Yang remembered—hadn’t he just been voice-chatting with You Li? Wouldn’t every single word have landed in this man’s ears?
Ji Yang probed: “Don’t you sleep?”
Nie Xu said: “I was asleep.”
Meaning—Ji Yang had woken him up?
Though he stood high, Ji Yang felt as if he’d never escaped the man’s field of vision, an oppressive weight bearing down. He said slowly: “Then I really am… sorry about that.”
Nie Xu’s gaze swept over his hand: “No need. Or do you need me to exercise my assistant’s privileges and give you a hand?”
“A hand?” Ji Yang hadn’t quite caught on yet.
Nie Xu: “Four in the morning—getting up in the middle of the night to take your boss’s pants off?”
Ji Yang instinctively let go of his hand on the pants.
The next second, he replied with suspicion but full confidence: “If you’re trying to seduce your way up to the top through your leader, I should say—I’m not that strict about my virtue either. Understandable, right? After all, it’s me—I’m very popular now.”
It wasn’t that he was after a handsome face. Truly not.
In the dark came a soft snort of a laugh—almost like an illusion.
Nie Xu rose from the chair and walked to the bedside: “Just the pants?”
Ji Yang realized he was serious.
If he agreed, the man would absolutely reach out and do it.
That wasn’t serving a leader—that was stripping. Ji Yang suspected he’d lose a layer of skin.
“My underwear is white,” he said immediately.
Emphasizing: “Boxer briefs, at that.”
Nie Xu: “So?”
Ji Yang: “Only for my husband to see.”
Nie Xu’s gaze flicked down, then he commented: “Meh, nothing special.”
Me. Meh. Noth. ing. Spec. ial.
Just four words, and Ji Yang was incensed.
Where was the cold, emotionless revenge machine they’d agreed on? On what grounds was he even more vicious than this vicious villain—him?!