Trigger Warning 1: The shou is forced by the gong. The two have vastly different social statuses, and the shou engages in forceful possession of the gong, so there will be many scenes of the shou being tormented early on. (Not shou-friendly)
Trigger Warning 2: Both have kissed others under various circumstances (the gong was caught off guard and sneakily kissed by someone with ulterior motives, while the shou paid for warmth when critically ill and near death, but neither has slept with anyone else).
Trigger Warning 3: The author doesn’t think it’s particularly tragic, but judging by the comments… alright, this is probably an angst-filled novel.
Dear readers who won’t enjoy this, don’t torture yourselves—run away now. Writing this truly required pouring heart and soul, so please don’t leave negative reviews before you go, I’m begging you~ (,,.,,)
Main Text—
Yesterday evening, news of Jiang You’s critical condition spread like wildfire across the internet.
Jiang You is the CEO and Executive Director of Jiang Corporation, having recently broken into the top fifteen of this year’s list of hundred wealthiest individuals.
Among a crowd of middle-aged and elderly entrepreneurs mostly in their forties and fifties, Jiang You’s age of 27 made him stand out incongruously.
It also made people cynical.
Early morning.
Before Fu Jing could even reach the main entrance of Jiang Corporation, he was surrounded by a swarm of reporters.
“President Fu, hello! Is the news about your husband Mr. Jiang’s critical condition true?”
“President Fu, how are you feeling right now?”
“President Fu, there are rumors circulating about marital discord between you and CEO Jiang. Do you have any response to this?”
Fu Jing wore a sharply tailored suit under a black overcoat, his figure tall and upright.
His completely expressionless face made him look like a cold-blooded, merciless king of hell, causing the reporters’ voices behind him to unconsciously soften.
Fu Jing cut through the sea of reporters, taking the stairs two at a time as he entered the Jiang Corporation Empire.
With a loud ‘bang’—Fu Jing slammed his briefcase heavily onto the office desk.
“Have we managed to contact Jiang You and Zhao Linsheng?” Fu Jing sank deep into his chair, dark circles faintly visible under his eyes.
Across from him, his assistant Liang Chen frowned slightly. “We haven’t been able to reach them yet.”
“You may leave now.” Fu Jing spoke without looking up.
After Liang Chen left, Fu Jing dialed a number.
“Jiang You is in a hospital in Country R. You have one hour to have your detective agency locate him for me.”
“Oh my, what happened to Jiang You? How did he end up hospitalized abroad? Some rare disease?” The voice on the other end carried surprise tinged with delight.
“Heard he’s dying.” Fu Jing’s tone was as flat as if stating an insignificant fact.
“Oh.” The voice on the phone responded indifferently, then continued:
“Jiang You really isn’t very likable, and he’s particularly obsessive and perverted toward you. But in all fairness, he’s a good person.”
“So?” Fu Jing lowered his head and closed his eyes, phone in one hand while pressing firmly against his temple with the other.
“So, I hope that after Jiang You dies, you won’t open champagne to celebrate. If you absolutely must celebrate, please bring me along.”
The person on the other end spoke with serious solemnity, but Fu Jing knew they were probably choking back laughter.
Fu Jing opened his eyes and straightened slightly. “If Jiang You really dies, I’ll play your words on repeat a hundred times at his funeral. Just wait for him to come claim your soul.”
The other person giggled before drawling:
“Don’t worry~ If he comes soul-collecting, he’ll come for yours first. After all, you’re the one he used every trick in the book to obtain. How could he rest in peace after being married for only five years?”
“Shut up.” Fu Jing hung up the phone.
Several hours later, Fu Jing appeared at a private hospital in Country R.
When he found Jiang You, the man was sitting in a wheelchair basking in the sun.
Jiang You’s slender frame was swallowed by an oversized hospital gown, his prominent collarbones and delicate neck appearing fragile and vulnerable.
His bloodless face looked particularly sickly.
After just half a month apart, Fu Jing couldn’t understand how this person had managed to deteriorate to such a state.
Noticing the sunlight had disappeared from his body, Jiang You lazily opened his eyes.
His eyes widened when he saw the person standing before him.
Peach blossom eyes, a handsome high-bridged nose, well-defined red lips, and a clean jawline—
Wasn’t this his beautiful wife?
“Fu Jing?” Jiang You’s tone carried surprise.
“Heard you were dying?” Fu Jing kept his hands in his overcoat pockets, his gaze as cold as ever, with a hint of mockery curling at the corners of his lips.
“I just caught the flu, and already people are declaring me dead?” Jiang You’s lips quirked slightly.
As he spoke, he calmly pulled a compact and a tube of lipstick from his jacket pocket, quickly applying some makeup.
“…” Fu Jing’s temple twitched.
The Jiang corporation was in an uproar, yet Jiang You still had the leisure to powder his face here.
Still, Fu Jing was hardly surprised.
Jiang You had always been like this—able to produce cosmetics from his person at any moment.
Even if the sky were falling, it wouldn’t stop him from putting on makeup before elegantly meeting his demise.
Fu Jing let out a cold snort. “That explains it.”
Jiang You thought Fu Jing might be somewhat disappointed to find him still alive.
With a faint, ambiguous smile, Jiang You put away his compact and lipstick:
“Fu Jing, our contract hasn’t expired yet. You’d better not be so eager for me to die. If I die now, you’d become a widow—and might even be suspected of bringing bad luck to your husband. That would make it harder for you to find someone else later.”
“Hah…” Fu Jing sneered. “So if you die, you’re saying it would be my fault for being unlucky?”
“You said it, not me.” Jiang You narrowed his eyes slightly.
The lipstick color was natural—just a light dab, followed by pressing his lips together, leaving them rosy and vibrant without looking garish.
It only made his face appear paler.
Normally, he’d style his hair with gel to reveal his forehead.
But being ill, he hadn’t bothered to fix it up, leaving his hair casually falling loose.
Though he lacked his usual energy, it made him look quite young.
Saying he looked young wasn’t quite right—he was still young. After his birthday this year, Jiang You would only be twenty-seven.
Fu Jing snorted but said nothing more.
“Are those flowers for me?” Jiang You eyed the sunflowers tucked under Fu Jing’s arm.
“I’m visiting a friend. I just happened to run into you,” Fu Jing said flatly.
What a remarkable coincidence, running into each other all the way abroad, Jiang You thought.
Wasn’t this fate? Too bad he was the fallen blossom with feelings, while Fu Jing was the indifferent flowing stream.
“Oh.” Jiang You wasn’t particularly disappointed.
Forget flowers—over the years, Fu Jing had never given him so much as a blade of grass. Why would he kindly bring him flowers just because he was hospitalized?
He just wondered what kind of friend could make Fu Jing travel across countries to visit.
He hoped it wasn’t some green tea bitch or little slut.
If it was, Jiang You would make sure they died more miserably than he ever would.
Anyone who dared to steal his man while he was still alive would be dragged along to accompany him in death.
The rumor about critical condition was false, but the illness was real.
Back then, Fu Jing had no choice but to marry him, and after the wedding, they signed a contract.
Fu Jing gave Jiang You eight years until they turned thirty – if Fu Jing still didn’t love Jiang You by then, they would divorce.
Eight years.
Jiang You thought to himself, even if love couldn’t grow over time, surely intimacy could?
Who would have thought heaven wouldn’t comply with human wishes? Before he could wait for love to blossom, he first encountered a deadly disease.
Jiang You wouldn’t live to see thirty.
He raised his eyes, a barely noticeable pain flickering in their depths. Jiang You looked at Fu Jing and said calmly, “Go attend to your matters then.”
His hands rested flat on his thighs, appearing quite docile. The ring on his left ring finger gleamed with a pearly white light.
In contrast, Fu Jing’s fingers were bare.
After all, their marriage wasn’t what he wanted.
Just then, a young nurse came over and said something to Jiang You. Fu Jing didn’t understand R-country language.
But Fu Jing understood Jiang You’s response – he said “okay.”Those passionate anime from back in the day weren’t watched in vain,” Fu Jing thought to himself.
Jiang You pushed the IV stand with one hand while clumsily and strenuously maneuvering the wheelchair with the other.
Suddenly, the wheelchair moved forward smoothly.
Jiang You turned back to see Fu Jing pushing the wheelchair for him.
After all, he’s my wife, Jiang You thought, lowering his head to suppress a smile, his heart filled with joy.
When they reached the hospital room, Fu Jing positioned Jiang You and the wheelchair in front of the hospital bed.
Jiang You looked back at him.
“Get on the bed. Don’t tell me you’re waiting for me to carry you?” Fu Jing said with clear impatience.
Jiang You blinked his clear, bright eyes. “Is that not allowed?”