Chapter 2#
Half an hour later, Ji Yang sat back down in the hall.#
He was curled up in a sofa chair, wrapped in a large white towel, looking like a bedraggled cat that had been caught in the rain and balled itself up.
A servant brought him medicine.
“Look at this sorry state. Did someone rob your prosthetic leg?”
A voice full of suspicion suddenly spoke up.
It was none other than Ji Mingyue—the only girl of the third branch among the younger Ji generation. Right now she was wearing a blue gauze dress, arms crossed beside the sofa, her expression one of utter disgust toward him.
Aside from her, sitting in the hall at this moment were the Ji family patriarch Ji Yansong, old Butler Zhao Yuan standing beside him, and Ji Chengyi, the one who had summoned the patriarch here.
You see, the Ji family’s business empire spanned hardware manufacturing, energy development, logistics management, and more. Over the course of more than a decade, they had earned the epithet “Overlords of the Sea” in Fanzhou.
A family of this magnitude had an extremely complex internal structure.
Ji Yang had truly not expected it.
Despite not putting up a fuss this time, the old man had still shown up.
And he’d brought along the Ji family’s notoriously capricious eldest young lady.
Before the patriarch could even open his mouth, Ji Mingyue’s tongue was already firing like a machine gun.
“I see those reporters outside aren’t just talking nonsense. Calling you a stray dog is doing you a favor.” Even this wasn’t satisfying enough, she jabbed right at Ji Yang’s sore spot: “You called someone else a bastard child? Right now you’re not even living as well as a bastard child!”
From Ji Chengyi’s unconsciously tightened grip on the armrest of his chair, Ji Yang could taste a thread of strained restraint.
He remembered that the book had indeed said so.
Ji Mingyue and “Ji Yang” were roughly the same age. Although they were cousins, when they were young they had been raised together as if they were twins.
This Ji Mingyue was vicious when it came to cursing people out, yet she didn’t spare Ji Chengyi either, calling him a bastard child at every turn.
Ji Yang actually found it somewhat amusing.
He hadn’t expected that, beneath Ji Chengyi’s fanatical following within the Ji family, there would actually be one who slipped through the net.
Probably seeing that he wasn’t talking back, Ji Mingyue glared at him: “Cat got your tongue?!”
Ji Yang picked up the water glass and barely swallowed the medicine down, then gave a half-hearted “mm” and said, “I’m too tired to talk. With your eloquence, just keep going—I’ll listen.”
Ji Mingyue was so infuriated by him she nearly toppled backward.
When Ji Yang said he was tired, he wasn’t lying.
God only knew how the confrontation with Nie Xu across the rain had ended.
Green tea types weren’t scary.
What was scary was when people didn’t fall for the fragile little white flower act.
Ji Yang could still recall—the deep, black depths of those eyes, the coldness of someone staring at a corpse.
And then, in the next moment, he’d lowered his gaze and said in a perfectly proper tone, “There’s no need for the Fourth Young Master to apologize. As the host of this house, you have absolute authority over everything.”
No exaggeration—goosebumps had erupted across Ji Yang’s entire body in an instant.
If he hadn’t read the book, he would have completely fallen for it.
Ji Yang immediately said, “No. I have no authority at all. And the Ji family certainly won’t grant me any.”
He was aware that this sudden flip-flopping was quite insane, but continued anyway: “You know this too, don’t you? The old master never genuinely agreed with Ji Chengyi’s proposal from the start. The reason he had you transferred to my side two years ago was because he was wary of you—wasn’t it? I can’t control what you want to do, but for you, a crippled good-for-nothing should be far more suitable than the ever-illuminated Ji Chengyi, right? Having me ’love’ you, or wanting to ‘date’—either works. The old master should be quite pleased to see that happen. Under this cover, you can do whatever you want.”
It was somewhat shameless.
But this was currently the only use Ji Yang could think of for the original body. The original’s terrible reputation at this stage should be more useful than Ji Chengyi’s.
Nie Xu’s eye-tails contracted slightly.
That question spoken through the rain carried emotions that were particularly hard to read: “Is the Fourth Young Master planning to use this to threaten me?”
“I told you—it’s because I love you.” The more critical the moment, the faster Ji Yang’s mouth moved. His hand picked up the key to unlock the padlock; rain fell without interruption, and under the dual torment of pain and cold, his hand trembled several times, unable to find the keyhole. “Fine, you could also call it my heartfelt repentance after a great awakening.”
Just then, Ji Yang suddenly heard the commotion from among the servants behind him, only realizing that the old master was already on his way.
As if rushing to pour salt on the wound.
The person above him gave a soft scoff—so faint it might have been an illusion.
“Repentance?”
Click. The lock opened.
Ji Yang’s strength gave out, and he collapsed directly onto the other man’s shoulder.
For the first time he knew that human muscles could be so hard—his chin hurt from the impact.
Ji Yang hissed through his teeth, frowning: “I’ve already got nothing left for the Ji family to take back. The old master is coming with ill intentions. If you could help me resolve the trouble in front of me, I’d be eternally grateful.”
Nie Xu glanced toward the direction of the commotion, then withdrew his gaze. “The Fourth Young Master’s epiphany came rather suddenly. The proposal isn’t bad—just don’t regret it later.”
Ji Yang shuddered—these were almost the exact words Nie Xu had said when Ji Chengyi had approached him about the project.
Now suddenly grafted onto a different context.
Ji Yang, like a light object still barely managing to hang on, spoke in a tone of bitter wind and cold rain, utterly spent: “I won’t regret it.”
Whether you destroy the Ji family, bury it, or burn it all to ashes—
What does that have to do with me?
Ji Yang: Weak as I am, how about you just forget about that whipping for now.
“Enough!” The elder speaking from the seat of honor had white-streaked hair and deep vertical furrows between his brows—solemn and imposing. When his gaze swept over Ji Yang’s legs, conspicuously bare of prosthetics, a flicker of displeasure passed across his face. But he turned to Ji Mingyue and said, “Is this how the Ji family raised you? Sending you to a matchmaking dinner—and you followed him here?!”
Ji Mingyue snorted coldly.
“I didn’t even want to go.”
Then she scoffed again: “I thought there’d be some great spectacle. Said to call everyone over—turns out it’s just this? Hasn’t Ji Yang been on the front pages for scandals a hundred times since he was a kid? Which one wasn’t more interesting than liking guys?”
A trace of awkwardness flickered across Ji Chengyi’s face. He handed a cup of tea to the patriarch, whose expression was equally dark, and said: “Grandpa, it was my oversight. I couldn’t hold back and we exchanged a few words, and I was afraid the matter would snowball out of control—that’s why I disturbed your peace.”
Butler Zhao Yuan chimed in from the side: “Third Young Master worries too much. There’s no need to blame yourself over such things.” Here, his words carried an implied meaning: “Even with your packed schedule, you didn’t forget to find a renowned doctor for the patriarch’s insomnia. Outrageous behavior like this is simply not something someone of your character would do.”
Zhao Yuan then turned to Ji Mingyue: “Eldest Young Lady’s childhood bond with the Fourth Young Master is understandable, but this concerns the Ji family’s reputation. It’s not something to treat as a game.”
This old man who had followed the patriarch for an entire lifetime—his attitude, in many cases, represented Ji Yansong’s attitude, and could influence countless others beneath the Ji family hierarchy.
His subconscious deference toward Ji Chengyi was a message to everyone: Ji Chengyi had the patriarch’s recognition. The Blue Bay project he had taken over was restarting after two years, and soon he would gain the Ji family board’s approval, truly stepping into the center of the Ji family’s power.
Even if Ji Mingyue couldn’t see everything clearly, she had long sensed it.
This made her even more furious with Ji Yang.
He’s truly hopeless—mud that can’t even be plastered onto a wall!
When she instinctively glared at him, she noticed that the person who in the past, under such disparities, would either fly into a rage and smash things or already have gone upstairs and locked himself in his room, was now idly dabbing at his own hair.
He’d fluffed his entire head into a wild mess—strands sticking straight up—and he was still sitting there rubbing and rubbing!
Ji Mingyue should have been even angrier, but for some reason, seeing him look so completely detached from whatever they were saying, that surge of fury seemed to suddenly deflate, as if someone had poked a hole in it.
It was only now that she realized—something about Ji Yang was different.
Those eyes that had always looked so gloomy seemed unusually bright today. He didn’t even care about Grandpa’s thoughts. More importantly, he was truly allowing his disabled legs to be exposed, without the slightest sign of wanting to cover them up.
Ji Mingyue was rendered momentarily speechless.
The moment she stopped talking, Ji Yang noticed the silence.
Ji Chengyi timely addressed the patriarch: “Calm down, Grandpa. Mingyue’s not that old—the matchmaking can wait.”
The patriarch’s expression eased by two degrees.
He flicked the teacup’s lid. “Running her mouth day in and day out—marrying into the Qi family is already punching above her weight.”
“Her weight?” Ji Yang suddenly spoke up.
His voice still carried the half-dead quality of phantom limb pain: “That’s true. Who knows—maybe one day she’ll beat Qi Yiming’s little fourth and little fifth miscarry their children, and then another slip-up and she’ll catch him cheating at an entertainment venue and end up on some gossip magazine. With her personality, marrying into the Qi family isn’t just punching above her weight—it’d have to cross the entire steppe.”
Ji Chengyi frowned: “The person Grandpa personally selected surely wouldn’t be that sort.”
Ji Yang looked at him lazily from the corner of his eye: “Third Brother seems so certain. Have you been hiding under their bed?”
Ji Chengyi froze, chose not to continue speaking, but his expression might as well have stated outright that Ji Yang was spouting nonsense.
In the book, so many people who admired and liked Ji Chengyi had mostly surrendered to his so-called preserved goodness, his white-moonlight-like charisma.
But to Ji Yang, excessive goodness was just hypocrisy.
Otherwise, why would he—while believing that “Ji Yang” wouldn’t let this go—insist on summoning Old Man Ji? And why, when Ji Mingyue resisted, would he conveniently speak up on her behalf?
He earned goodwill everywhere, but in reality, the capricious Eldest Young Lady Ji still became a marriage tool driven by the power-and-profit-obsessed Old Man Ji, with an end no better than his own—death without a whole body.
When Ji Yang had been reading the book, he’d felt that with Ji Mingyue’s personality, she shouldn’t have ended up dead with child in her womb, not even getting a decent burial plot.
This was exactly why Ji Yang, on the recommendation of viewers in the livestream, had gone to read this book—cursing as he read, and once “himself” had died, he couldn’t be bothered to continue.
He even liked villains like Ji Mingyue.
Maybe he was born to play the wicked villain?
While Ji Yang’s thoughts had wandered to this point, a phone suddenly rang on the scene—it was Zhao Yuan’s.
From the faintly audible words, things like “dock” could be made out, something about it being “moved up unexpectedly,” and Nie Xu’s name was mentioned.
Outside, the rain had yet to stop.
When Ji Yang gazed out from the hall, he could see that open ground, and his thoughts naturally drifted to the person who had been kneeling there earlier.
He hadn’t crossed paths with the old man and the others earlier, so by now they should have already taken action.
Sure enough, five minutes later.
Zhao Yuan whispered two sentences in the patriarch’s ear, and the old man suddenly looked at Ji Yang, then at his legs, a hint of calculation added to his gaze.
Finally, he left behind a single sentence: “I’ll continue to leave the person with you. But Nie Xu isn’t just your bodyguard—he doesn’t have that much free time to humor your antics. I don’t want last night’s incident to happen a second time.”
Then he departed hastily with Zhao Yuan.
They’d arrived in grand fashion, but left without warning.
Ji Chengyi seemed completely caught off guard, staring unblinkingly at Ji Yang: “What did you do? How could Grandpa suddenly let this matter go?”
Ji Yang raised an eyebrow: “You guess? I’m more curious—do you actually care about Nie Xu as a person, or is it that he can’t become an asset for your project?”
Ji Chengyi was briefly stunned.
“Does that matter?”
“Of course it matters.” Ji Yang leaned back against the chair, smiling in a way that truly looked like a villain. “After all, the reason you called Grandpa over was to watch me lose miserably, wasn’t it?”
As Ji Chengyi’s expression cooled, Ji Yang sat up straighter, leaned forward slightly, and spoke softly.
“You didn’t get what you wanted, Third Brother.”
“The moment I apologized to Nie Xu, he felt sorry for me.”
Ji Chengyi’s shoulders went rigid, his stare fixed on him: “Impossible.”
Ji Yang continued on his own accord: “He also said he knows.”
Ji Chengyi was involuntarily pulled off course, frowning as he asked: “Knows what?”
Ji Yang: “I told him he’s not allowed to go anywhere except by my side. He said, ‘I know.’”
Ji Chengyi’s face changed completely.
Ji Yang recalled that sentence of his—“There has never been any sordid relationship between me and Nie Xu, as you imagine”—and felt that this popular protagonist shou was not only full of contradictions but also an expert in self-deception.
Watching a person like this break down was the most entertaining thing in the world. Even his mood, tormented by pain, improved.
The truth was, the above conversation was pure fabrication.
What actually happened on the scene—
Apart from the storm and chaos of that moment, only Ji Yang knew.
—
Fanzhou Today.
Shocking revelation! The Ji family’s Fourth Young Master is a total GAY!
Two heirs of a wealthy family fight over the same man—selfish desire or hidden truth?
Third Young Master Ji drinks himself drunk late at night—career success, romantic failure!
When Ji Yang saw these unfounded gossip headlines, he was applying a poultice to his leg.
The speed at which this news updated was even faster than his transmigration.
Ji Yang didn’t see a single member of the Ji family again from that day until nightfall, when most of the discomfort from his phantom limb pain had subsided.
After eating dinner alone, he sat in the small living room, tossing herbal medicine packets into the foot-soaking basin in front of him while staring at the flat-screen TV, subconsciously trying to figure out which media outlet had such a sharp nose.
To the point that passing servants looked at him like they were observing a rare animal.
In the end, Ji Yang was the only one focused on his phone.
He figured that since the other party had made his move, it was necessary for him to reconnect with the person he supposedly “loved.”
He took a photo of the TV screen, then opened his messaging app and scrolled to the contact labeled “In Training.”
He’d guessed that the original body had been deeply influenced by that messed-up training group, but he hadn’t expected—opening it up to find:
Still “In Training”?
This was less “in training” and more flat-out bossing people around.
February 29, 22:00
Cloud Lounge! Two idiots are cursing me out—get your ass here in ten minutes!
March 1, 14:33
Call the international courier company for me. If my prosthetic leg still hasn’t arrived tomorrow, sue that company into bankruptcy for me!
March 2, 09:18
[Image][Image][Image][Image]
Why aren’t you responding?
Aren’t these torture instruments my buddy sent? Pretty intense, huh?
March 3, 23:21
Live up to the mad dog the old man raised!
You’re truly loyal!
Nie Xu—you’ve got guts!
Whatever—your life belongs to the Ji family now. Just you wait!
The whole history was nothing but commanding, harassment, raging—everything under the sun.
And not a single reply.
Ji Yang surmised that the reasonable requests were probably all fulfilled on time, and as for the rest—when Nie Xu actually saw them, he probably just wanted to shove Ji Yang’s head into a toilet bowl.
Ji Yang truly couldn’t bring himself to type a message in this chat. He just felt the account was too filthy.
He thought about it, then spent two minutes creating a new account.
The avatar was a cartoon little sheep, very similar to the one he’d used in his previous life.
First attempt: no response.
Second attempt, he added a line: It’s Ji Yang. Still no response.
Third attempt: Where are you? Dorm? No response.
Fourth attempt: How are the injuries? Want me to give you two more days off? No response.
Until the fifth attempt: Brother, brother, I love you.
After a moment, a reply came.
It still didn’t accept the friend request—just a single line typed back in the request box: Use the old account if you need something. I’ll handle it when I see it.
Ji Yang glared at that sentence for a good long while.
He thought: So all those things I just said were for nothing, huh?