Chapter 278
Yuan Ran sat on the dragon throne, one hand supporting his cheek. His posture was lazy and casual. His expression gradually shifted from excitement to calm, like someone watching a magnificent performance slowly draw to its conclusion.
But in his dark eyes, what reflected was a blazing inferno.
The flames had already reached the jade steps, yet Yuan Ran remained unmoved.
His enemies, those he despised, and even the people he once knew—were all dead. Those who hated him, revered him, or feared him were gone.
There was nothing left in the world that could rival him. Nothing could stir his interest anymore. He loathed it all, and he had grown weary of it.
He wanted to be free.
Being insane all the time was exhausting. He just wanted to die.
Gradually, Yuan Ran felt his soul drifting away from his body.
Suddenly, he thought he saw his master.
His master had never once appeared before, and Yuan Ran had assumed he had long ascended to immortality. Even during his painful quest for revenge, he never considered seeking his master’s help—because he knew he was filled with ugly hatred and had taken countless innocent lives. He no longer had the face to see his master, nor the right to call himself his disciple.
And yet, his master appeared.
“Master… your disciple is leaving,” Yuan Ran said, kneeling slowly before him in the illusion.
“My child, it is Heaven that has wronged you. Remember this—wherever the sunlight shines, there will be someone waiting for you. That person will protect you and love you. You won’t have to live a lonely, bitter life anymore. Go now. Go find that person.”
His master’s hand gently swept across his forehead, as if wiping away all the violence and bloodlust, all the madness and impulsiveness that had consumed his flesh and blood.
Yet his master’s words left him confused.
The flames engulfing the palace finally consumed the tyrant of legend, as if trying to cleanse the world of the slaughter he had brought. The fire burned for three days and three nights. The rebels probably never expected that before they could act, the tyrant would take his own life.
They declared to the outside world that they had frightened the tyrant into suicide. But everyone knew—if the tyrant had wanted to destroy them, it would’ve been as easy as crushing an ant. No one had expected he would end it all himself.
After the fire, only ruins remained. Not a single bone was found where the throne hall once stood. It was as if he had turned to ashes and scattered with the wind.
When Yuan Ran once again felt the searing pain on his body, he was dazed. As he realized he was still alive, he sensed something was off. After having experienced death, his emotions had calmed considerably.
Was this the afterlife? As he wondered, memories flooded his mind—memories that didn’t belong to him. Not only were they not his, many of the concepts in them were hard for him to understand.
So, he had been reincarnated into another body.
It felt like he had entered another world—one set thousands of years in the future.
His head throbbed, and he struggled to digest everything. But some information stunned him.
Because the body he now possessed was also named Chu Lishu, and his appearance was nearly identical to Yuan Ran after he had consumed the Tianxuan Pill. It felt like Heaven was playing a cruel joke on him. But then he remembered what his master had said before his death. Could it be… his master had seen this coming?
There was someone in this world. Someone special. And that’s why he had come here.
This Chu Lishu had grown up in an orphanage and had just finished the high school entrance exams. He was about to start high school, when suddenly a fire broke out at the orphanage.
But from Yuan Ran’s understanding, the fire was suspicious. In Chu Lishu’s memories, there had been several strange outsiders lurking around the orphanage in the days before the fire. They often picked on the orphans. It most likely had something to do with his background.
Yuan Ran sneered inwardly. No matter which world it was, the ugliness of human nature was always the same.
As he was thinking this, a conversation suddenly reached his ears.
It was a clear male voice, along with that of a middle-aged woman.
“He’s the child your aunt gave birth to after she ran away from home. His name is Chu Lishu. Then his father’s surname must be Chu?”
“I don’t know. But you need to remember—I’ve placed you both in the same hospital room. You’re responsible for taking care of your cousin.”
“Is he really my cousin, though?” The boy’s voice carried a hint of bitterness.
“What’s that supposed to mean? He’s important. This is the least you can do for me and your brother. Don’t let us down.”
“Eight years apart, and this is the first thing you say when we meet again?”
“Just focus on recovering. I’m going to find your father.”
As the sound of heels clicking faded, the woman seemed to leave. Yuan Ran could feel someone standing beside him, watching him.
Suddenly, he felt something wet touch his lips. He froze, then realized that this body was extremely dehydrated. His entire body was wrapped in bandages, making it impossible to drink water. That faint dampness was exactly what he needed most.
“Sigh… really tragic. If no one had found you, you probably would’ve lived a simple and happy life.”
The person spoke as he noticed that Yuan Ran’s pillow was a bit high. He adjusted it, and Yuan Ran immediately felt more comfortable.
It seemed this so-called cousin was quite good at taking care of others.
Listening to his voice, feeling his actions, and catching the faint scent that lingered on him, Yuan Ran didn’t feel any aversion toward this person. He just couldn’t open his eyes yet, so he couldn’t see what the person looked like. But just for this care alone, Yuan Ran would remember him.
Not long after, a few more people entered the room. The messy mixture of scents made Yuan Ran uncomfortable. It seemed his cousin had stepped away, so Yuan Ran couldn’t smell him anymore.
This group didn’t know he was awake, so they freely discussed things around his bed.
As it turned out, it was all part of an internal power struggle within a wealthy family. The mother of this body had held a share of the family’s business. After her death, the shares transferred to him. Whichever side he supported in the future would gain a significant advantage. That’s why everyone, both elders and peers, wanted to build a relationship with him and gain his favor.
From the heated debate, he gathered that the head of the Lin family was the late mother’s biological brother, so they had been close. But that didn’t mean the head of the family wasn’t a suspect in her death. After all, if he chose to support someone else, it would threaten the patriarch’s position. Even in a society governed by law—who could say what would really happen?
Still, now that he had appeared publicly, they probably wouldn’t dare try anything so easily. Once he recovered, he would take his time and play the game.
“Call someone—quick!” A woman’s voice spoke again.
“Dad.” It was his cousin’s voice.
“Yes, take good care of your cousin. I remember you have a decent personality—get along well with him.”
“Alright.”
Just moments ago, his tone hadn’t been this deep when he was talking to himself. Was he nervous around his father? Yuan Ran was puzzled.
Not long after, the person in the room finally left, and someone else came in.
“Yangyang, time for your checkup. You’ve already delayed for an hour,” a senior nurse said with a hint of complaint.
Yangyang? Yuan Ran’s heart suddenly skipped a beat for some unknown reason.
The name “Yangyang” stirred something unpleasant in his memory, like a disgusting recollection about to resurface—but he quickly forced it back down.
“Sorry to trouble you, big sis.”
This time, his so-called cousin answered with a smile. His tone was completely different from before—Yuan Ran could almost picture the curve of a smile tugging at his lips.
His cousin left with the nurse, leaving behind two other nurses to tidy up the ward.
The two young nurses assumed Yuan Ran was still unconscious and couldn’t resist gossiping.
“Rich families really have no sense of affection. Yangyang’s been staying here for eight years, and his parents haven’t visited even once. But now that they suddenly found this long-lost cousin, the whole family showed up. If it weren’t for that, Yangyang probably wouldn’t have even seen his parents. So heartless.”
“Exactly! They all live in the same city, but no one ever comes to visit him. It’s like they know Yangyang is dying and just decided to pretend he doesn’t exist.”
“Poor Yangyang. He’s got such a good personality and is so good-looking—how did he end up with such a family and this strange illness?”
“I heard from the head nurse that she’s been looking after Yangyang for eight years now. Back then, he was still in middle school. His health just started deteriorating for no reason, and he had to be hospitalized. They still haven’t found out what’s wrong—just that his organs are slowly failing. Light physical activity is the only thing that might prolong his life. But even so, the deterioration is still extremely painful. Yet look at him—always smiling and chatting with everyone. You’d never guess anything was wrong. Such an optimistic kid.”
“Hey, about last week’s consultation—”
“They said he only has one month left. I saw the director tell his parents just now, but they acted like they didn’t even hear it and walked right past. The director was furious.”
“A heartless father and a selfish mother. Haven’t you seen the celebrity gossip? Yangyang has so many half-siblings from different mothers—his family is like an emperor’s harem. And Yangyang’s mother wasn’t even officially recognized. So after he got sick, she immediately got pregnant and had another son—just so he could compete for the inheritance from the Lin Group later on. Since Yangyang’s health is failing, he’s been cast aside.”
“Their rich-people drama is even more disgusting than TV shows. Family love clearly means nothing to them.”
“My heart aches the most for Yangyang. Just one more month, I even saw the head nurse crying the other day. A bunch of us at the nurses’ station were wiping our tears. After all these years, we’ve been more like family to him than his actual family. In the end, I bet we’ll be the only ones to send him off. Sigh.”
Yuan Ran listened in a daze. Had he just come back to life only to meet someone who actually seemed decent—someone worth nurturing—only to find out that person was dying? Truly, a pitiful soul.
Soon, the two nurses left, and someone came in to monitor him specifically. Clearly, they were keeping close tabs on him—seemed like his life really was important to the Lin family.
Yuan Ran was naturally alert. He could never truly rest when strangers—especially those who might not mean well—were watching him. He could only endure.
Before long, that cousin of his returned.
Seeing him, everyone else said, “You guys can leave, I’ll stay with him.”
“Yes, Second Young Master.”
Yuan Ran could sense his cousin coming closer, as if checking on his condition, then sitting at a moderate distance—not too close, not too far. Every once in a while, he would dip a cotton swab in water and moisten Yuan Ran’s lips, then continue checking on him. He was very attentive and persistent.
Just… a bit too talkative.
“These lips are really nice. Perfect shape. I should sketch them, definitely sketch them.”
“Eyes look good too. Thick, long lashes—almost like a girl’s. But since you’re Auntie’s kid, it makes sense you’d be good-looking. Pfft—right now, though, you look more like a mummy.”
He seemed to be entertaining himself. Then somehow, he got his hands on Chu Lishu’s information and started commenting on it while chatting nonstop. This gave Yuan Ran a new impression of his so-called cousin—turns out he had such a lively and cheerful personality.
“Wow, you’re seriously good-looking—like a celebrity! Cousin, you’ve got to recover well. They’ve done reconstructive work on you, and if your body can’t heal on its own, you might end up disfigured. That would be terrible—no girls would like you then.”
“Nursing homes, welfare institutions, volunteering… you’re such a kind-hearted kid.”
“And you even played soccer? I used to play too!”
“Chess and painting—both award-winning? So talented, that’s amazing. If we’d met earlier, I’m sure we’d be great bros.”
“Full scholarship, and still such a top student? Total genius—no wonder you’re my cousin.”
So he had fully accepted the cousin relationship, just like that.
If it were any other time, someone daring to chatter on while he was trying to sleep would’ve ended up with a knife to the throat. But right now, his body couldn’t manage it, and mentally he was completely exhausted. After all, taking in so much all at once was overwhelming. He really needed rest. This person’s presence in the room was already the limit of his tolerance—couldn’t he just be quiet?
His consciousness slowly sank under the nonstop chatter until he finally drifted into a peaceful sleep.
He didn’t know how long he had slept, but he woke again to the sound of arguing.
“This medicine isn’t right! Why are you using this? He’s not even an adult yet—this drug is only meant for adults!”
“We had no choice. It was your father’s order.”
“No! Even if this can help him wake up sooner, the side effects are too severe for his body in the long term. You can’t just ignore his future!”
“But we’re powerless. His family said he must wake up as soon as possible. This is a private hospital—we can’t go against them.”
“Then just say it was already administered. If we don’t tell, no one will know.”
“This…”
“Please—I’m begging you. He’s already suffered so much.”
“Yangyang, why are you so protective of him? You don’t even know him.”
“Isn’t he my cousin? It’s rare to have a healthy body like his, and getting into an accident was bad enough. Don’t make it worse. He still has a future—there’s so much he can do. We can’t leave him with permanent damage.”
“Actually, that might not necessarily happen—”
Suddenly, the sound of a door being pushed open interrupted everything: “What are you all doing? Why haven’t you started the injection yet?”
“Dad, Chu Lishu is still too young. This drug—”
A sudden slap rang out. On the bed, Yuan Ran’s finger twitched. He knew that his overly kind, cheap cousin had just been slapped. A wave of inexplicable irritation surged in his chest.
“Since when did my decisions need your judgment?”
“Aiya, son, how can you be so disrespectful? Hurry and apologize to your father.”
“S-sorry, Dad.”
Clearly, the father didn’t bother to respond. The mother, on the other hand, quickly tried to smooth things over, not wanting her son to offend his father.
“Enough. Don’t you also need an injection? Go back to your bed.”
Meanwhile, the father’s attention was completely fixed on Chu Lishu.
“Go ahead with the injection. Are you sure he’ll wake up in three days?”
The director, who had accompanied them, quickly assured him, “Three injections over three days—he will definitely wake up.”
Yuan Ran more or less understood that the injection would indeed bring someone out of a coma, but the drug was far too potent. It would definitely harm the body. Right now, no one could protect him—he had to protect himself. His mind was clear, but his body still felt like it was in a coma. He couldn’t move at all, not even open his eyes.
As he felt the needle pierce his skin, Yuan Ran sneered inwardly. Who would’ve thought that in this new life, he’d still experience the same powerlessness—nothing but a fish on the chopping block. In this world, he was still alone. If he wanted to survive and avoid harm, he could only rely on himself.
He began to meditate, trying to practice internal martial arts. He thought maybe if he had a foundation in martial arts, it might help him compensate for his current condition. But to his surprise, the moment he started, internal energy flowed out of nowhere, as if being pulled in from another world. It was so easy that he didn’t even need to cultivate it—he only needed to fuse with it and increase his proficiency. With this inner strength as a foundation, he should be able to awaken this body very soon.
This discovery made Yuan Ran genuinely happy.
After the injection was finished, the people in the room quickly left, leaving only the nurse in charge of injections to tidy up the bottles and equipment.
Only when the room fell completely silent did the nurse finally speak: “Yangyang, how could you be so foolish? Even though you’re an adult now, this medicine still has a big impact on your body. Do you want to die?”
Her voice was filled with anxiety.
Yuan Ran was stunned by what he heard.
“It’s fine. The nutrient injection could’ve been given to anyone. I wasn’t going to live long anyway. Doing a good deed before I die might give me a better chance in my next life.”
The nurse seemed choked up by his words.
“Big Sis, please, I’m begging you—for the next two days, give us the injections together. They can’t tell the difference between the syringes. You just need to switch them.”
“You—”
“Please, I’m begging you, good sister.”
“Sigh… fine, fine. I hope that kid will be grateful to you in the future.”
“No need. He might wake up and I’ll already be gone. Just make sure he stays cautious around the Lin family. But judging by his file, this little cousin of mine is not only kind-hearted, but also very smart. He should be fine.”
“Forget about him, Yangyang. If it hurts too much, press the call button—I’ll give you a painkiller.”
“Mhm, don’t worry. You go ahead.”
The nurse quickly left, but Yuan Ran’s heart was far from calm.
They had switched the syringes. That cheap cousin of his had saved him.
Someone had actually taken the initiative to save him—not a loyal subordinate, not a devoted follower, not someone trying to gain benefit or glory from him. Just a cheap cousin who used his own remaining lifespan to trade for Yuan Ran’s health.
This guy must’ve been an idiot.
Yes, definitely an idiot. But since he was the kind of idiot who protected him, Yuan Ran had to repay the favor—at least make sure that idiot got something in return during his short life.
Yuan Ran immediately began circulating his inner energy, trying to wake himself up as fast as possible. But his body wasn’t cooperating. He still couldn’t wake up, so the second and third injections ended up going into that poor cousin’s body instead.
Yuan Ran could hear his cousin’s suppressed sounds of pain from the next room. The kind that came from biting down on something and enduring the pain in silence. The painkillers didn’t work on him—he could only grit his teeth and endure. The sound made Yuan Ran so agitated he wanted to kill someone. He nearly lost control of his inner energy and went berserk just to accelerate the process.
The day after the third injection, the Lin family finally lost their patience. The director, sweating bullets, was in the room scrambling for excuses.
“Enough already. Just give him another injection. If it doesn’t work, we’ll just accept it and wait,” someone suggested.
“That’s not okay. Three injections are already the limit. The body isn’t fully developed yet. A fourth shot could cause heart failure—it could kill him!”
“Heart failure? Don’t you people know how to resuscitate?”
“Uh—this, this, this…”
After a heated discussion, the director had no choice but to compromise and prepare for emergency treatment.
”Head nurse, get ready.”
Suddenly, a voice rang out.
”Sister, I need my nutrient shot too.”
As soon as those words were spoken, whispers broke out around the room. People seemed to be scoffing at him for trying to attract attention, meddling too much, pretending to be noble, or deliberately playing the victim. Some of the louder comments even reached Yuan Ran’s ears.
But Yuan Ran’s attention was focused on something else—this cheap cousin of his had already received his nutrient injection that morning, yet now he wanted to take another one… just to save him again.
Taking one shot himself was no big deal. But all four?
Forget it. If a nobody died for him, that could be considered a kind of honor. Later, he would personally help him get revenge on this entire family.
As he thought this, his internal energy once again began circulating on its own.
The head nurse pushed the cart in slowly, sluggish in her movements. She was sternly urged several times before she finally picked up the syringe.
“Sigh… these two syringes look exactly the same. Can you even tell which is which?”
Someone finally noticed.
But the nurse calmly replied, “Of course I can.”
She was just about to inject Chu Lishu when the arm she was holding suddenly twitched.
Startled, the nurse immediately exclaimed with joy, ”He seems to be waking up!”
Sure enough, not long after, the heavily bandaged Chu Lishu—his face wrapped so that only one eye and his mouth were visible—slowly opened his eyes.
Seeing with only one eye was inconvenient, but he could still see clearly. The first thing that came into view was the head nurse’s face, filled with surprise and delight. Many people had gathered around, all unfamiliar faces. Yet it was obvious to Chu Lishu that not a single one of them belonged to that so-called cousin of his.
He didn’t come to see me.
Doesn’t he care about his younger cousin at all?
Maybe he was in the bed next door and couldn’t come over. Chu Lishu himself couldn’t move either, so he could only deal with the fools in front of him for now.
As soon as he woke up, the people around him immediately began putting on a show—a heartwarming scene of long-lost relatives reuniting. Chu Lishu played along with their little act. All their talk boiled down to one goal: making sure he recovered in time to attend the board meeting one month later. A major collaboration project related to the future of the Lin Group required his vote. Although they made it seem like he could decide after fully understanding the situation, it was clear that the group had split into two opposing camps, each eager to gain his support. His vote would determine the winner. They even arranged for their personal assistants to come explain the project details to him in a few days.
Chu Lishu feigned shock at discovering his own identity and claimed he needed time to process it. That way, they couldn’t keep pestering him. Instead, they started sending in his so-called peers—cousins, male and female alike. Just as the gossip had said, this uncle of his had fathered many illegitimate children. No wonder he didn’t care about that cheap cousin of his.
Chu Lishu had no interest in pretending to be close to them. After greeting them one by one, he just kept waiting for that cousin to show up.
Finally, he heard that familiar woman’s voice. She brought her youngest son over for a reunion. The boy didn’t seem too bright and looked utterly bored. It wasn’t until that moment that the woman seemed to remember she had another son. She hurriedly said, “Why aren’t you coming over to say hello? You’re staying in the same hospital room. You need to be a good older cousin, you hear me?”
“Got it.”
Chu Lishu, who had been squinting drowsily, suddenly opened his eye wide. There was even a trace of anticipation, curiosity about what that cousin would look like.
“Come here, Lishu. This is your second cousin, Lin Qingyang. I hope you two get along well from now on.”
Chu Lishu’s pupil shrank abruptly. His whole body began to tremble uncontrollably.
Lin Qingyang.
As that somewhat familiar face appeared, Chu Lishu’s eyes almost popped out of his head in shock.
Was the heavens playing a joke on him?
Lin Qingyang—he was here too.
Chu Lishu glared at Lin Qingyang with his one good eye, filled with hatred.
When Lin Qingyang approached, he looked slightly surprised. Maybe it was because Chu Lishu had just woken up, but his eyes seemed bloodshot.
“Hello, cousin. I’m Lin Qingyang,” Lin Qingyang said gently, as if afraid of disturbing him.
But Chu Lishu’s eyes were already brimming with murderous intent.
He was going to kill Lin Qingyang—even if this wasn’t the same person.
Still, they were both second cousins, both named Lin Qingyang, and their facial features had similarities. One had been bloated and disgusting, the other thin and sickly. It was as if the same person had lost weight, changed their aura, and styled their hair differently. If Chu Lishu didn’t have a photographic memory and a keen eye for detail, he probably wouldn’t have recognized him.
But since he did, Lin Qingyang was simply unlucky. With so many similarities, Chu Lishu had more than enough reason to take revenge once again.
Lin Qingyang was the last to greet him. Only after that did the others slowly begin to leave.
Soon, only the two of them were left in the room.
Lin Qingyang couldn’t help but scoot closer again. Finally, the room wasn’t so lonely anymore—he had a cousin to keep him company. It felt nice.
But when he looked over, he found his cousin already asleep. He was probably exhausted.
Lin Qingyang could only continue caring for Chu Lishu the way he had before. But Chu Lishu felt utterly repulsed, so much so that goosebumps broke out all over his body.
From Chu Lishu’s point of view, with all these eerie similarities, Lin Qingyang might even have the same sexual orientation.
Maybe all those compliments and caring gestures Lin Qingyang had shown him before were just another instance of him falling for Chu Lishu’s face. Even if their personalities were completely different, just imagining that possibility made Chu Lishu feel sick to his stomach. This wasn’t a new world at all—it was a nightmare repeating itself.
Chu Lishu had no choice but to desperately focus on his recovery. It seemed that once he broke through the first stage, his internal energy began circulating more smoothly.
By the time he opened his eyes again, it was already nighttime. His body felt lighter—he could move now.
Chu Lishu turned his head slightly and looked at the bed next to his. The man was lying there, fast asleep, completely unguarded. Though he couldn’t get out of bed yet, he had observed earlier that if he removed the IV and used the needle to strike Lin Qingyang’s brain, he could kill him on the spot without anyone noticing.
With a flick of his wrist, Chu Lishu pulled the IV needle out and held it between his fingers, ready to aim it at Lin Qingyang.
Suddenly, a muffled groan broke the silence. Lin Qingyang turned over, and Chu Lishu froze on instinct.
Lin Qingyang’s face was deathly pale, drenched in sweat, his entire body trembling and curling up in pain. He looked like he was suffering immensely. Finally, he bit into the blanket to stop himself from making a sound.
What was this?
Chu Lishu paused, a hint of memory rising above his hatred. He couldn’t bring himself to throw the needle.
This person was different.
But they were just so similar.
While he was still hesitating, Lin Qingyang across from him seemed to have endured the pain and slowly opened his eyes. Chu Lishu knew the timing was wrong—if Lin Qingyang moved recklessly, he couldn’t be sure of his aim in his current condition. He had no choice but to release the needle and give up.
Suddenly, the call button in the room rang. Chu Lishu frowned slightly. Maybe Lin Qingyang was in so much pain that he called for a nurse—but even if a nurse came, it wouldn’t help, right? He must have been muddled from the pain.
But when the nurse arrived, Lin Qingyang, panting heavily, said, “Quick, look at him. His IV needle fell out. He’s bleeding.”
Chu Lishu’s hand twitched slightly.
After the nurse replaced the IV needle, Lin Qingyang didn’t mention his own pain at all. He just let the nurse go.
Soon after, steady breathing came from beside him. Chu Lishu slowly opened his eyes and looked over—this time, Lin Qingyang was sleeping soundly.
If he were to make a move now…
Chu Lishu slowly closed his eyes. Forget it. He protected me for three days, so I’ll return the favor—three days of life. After three days, once I can move again, it won’t be too late to act.
But after making that decision, Chu Lishu regretted it the very next day. Lin Qingyang seemed to be someone who rarely found a person willing to accompany him around the clock. Once he started talking, he was practically a chatterbox—overly friendly, as if they really were close cousins.
Every time Lin Qingyang got close, Chu Lishu wanted to slap him to death. He couldn’t stand this guy invading his space.
“Why doesn’t he talk at all?” a nurse asked curiously.
“Maybe his throat’s not doing well.”
“But didn’t he say a bunch of stuff when he first woke up?” the nurse asked, puzzled.
Lin Qingyang was confused too. He had been talking to himself for three whole days, and all Chu Lishu ever did was occasionally open his eyes and give him a warning-like glare. He never said a word. To Lin Qingyang, that look was just a stranger’s guardedness. He didn’t take it to heart. Honestly, just having someone around was already comforting enough.
But in the next second, when the nurse instinctively started to say, “This IV drip is—”
“Speed it up,” Chu Lishu replied.
The nurse froze.
So did Lin Qingyang.
After the awkward nurse left, Lin Qingyang finally said, “So you can talk. You just didn’t want to talk to me. Do you hate me? I don’t actually mean any harm, you know.” He figured, based on the files, that Chu Lishu was very intelligent—surely he could tell the Lin family meant him no good. So it made sense that he would be wary of a cousin like him.
But there was still no reply. Lin Qingyang grew a little disheartened and chose to stay quiet. “Then I won’t bother you anymore.”
Chu Lishu slowly closed his eyes. Three days were up.
That night, once Lin Qingyang was asleep, Chu Lishu slowly got up. Even though most of his body was still wrapped in bandages, he could move now.
He walked to Lin Qingyang’s bedside and looked down at him for a while. If he reached out now, he could easily end this existence that disgusted and repulsed him. But… they really weren’t quite the same. Should he still go through with it?
Chu Lishu hesitated. But in the end, he couldn’t suppress the discomfort in his heart over how much Lin Qingyang resembled someone else. Besides, this person wouldn’t live long anyway. He was in constant pain. Maybe ending things would be a mercy.
Just as he was about to act, Chu Lishu suddenly sensed movement near the door.
Someone was there.
Chu Lishu quickly returned to his bed and pretended to be asleep.
Soon, someone walked in—and came straight to his side. He could feel the hostility from that person. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to react at any moment.
But in the next second, a strange clicking sound echoed—it wasn’t something Yuan Ran would’ve recognized. Chu Lishu had a vague guess based on his own worldview, but lying in bed, he didn’t have time to react.
Right then, Lin Qingyang, awakened once more by the pain, became aware that someone was in the room. As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw a man dressed in all black, wearing a mask, pointing a gun at the bed next to his.
Startled, Lin Qingyang shouted and, without thinking, threw his blanket at the assassin as he turned around.
Two muffled shots rang out, but Lin Qingyang had already jumped onto Chu Lishu’s bed, dodging them, and was trying to pull Chu Lishu away to escape.
By then, Chu Lishu had opened his eyes. He saw someone lifting the blanket and pointing a gun straight at them.
Chu Lishu instinctively understood—this was a deadly weapon. The intruder was definitely here to kill him.
“Ah!” Lin Qingyang cried out in panic as a bullet grazed his arm and knocked him off the bed.
The attacker had already fired three times. Chu Lishu counted the pauses and, just as the gun turned toward him again, he dodged swiftly. A bullet barely missed his hair. That speed made Chu Lishu realize—no matter how good he was at martial arts, he couldn’t beat this.
He felt the threat of death. His internal energy surged, but he was still unfamiliar with using it—it was already too late to dodge the second shot.
At the last possible moment, a figure lunged forward, shouting for help, and blocked the shot in front of Chu Lishu.
Chu Lishu watched as Lin Qingyang’s abdomen instantly became soaked in red. His body fell like a raindrop, powerless and without resistance.
Chu Lishu froze, staring in disbelief at Lin Qingyang lying on the floor, watching the blood pooling beneath him, staining the white tiles red.
In that moment, Chu Lishu felt a sudden tightness in his chest.
Because of Lin Qingyang’s earlier scream, the previously negligent Lin family bodyguards finally arrived. They rushed in, but in the chaos, the assassin still managed to escape.
Due to the gunfire, the entire hospital became a scene of chaos. The head nurse saw that Lin Qingyang had been shot and rushed him into emergency treatment. The Lin family was notified and immediately sent people to protect Chu Lishu. But by the time they all came to their senses—Chu Lishu was gone. He had clearly still been there when Lin Qingyang was wheeled away. So how had he disappeared in the blink of an eye?
Meanwhile, in the morgue downstairs, a wounded assassin clutched his side and slipped out of the cold storage room. He was injured and planning to use the empty area to make his escape—when he suddenly realized his gun was missing from his waist.
As he bent down to look for it, a click sounded above him. The assassin looked up nervously—only to see the very boy he had tried to kill calmly sitting on a table, aiming the gun right at him.
The assassin couldn’t believe a normal kid would know how to use it. He immediately tried to snatch it back—only to hear a soft pop. The loaded gun fired straight into his thigh, hitting a tendon. The pain forced a groan from his throat as he collapsed to one knee. That leg could no longer support him.
“So this is how it’s used. It really is a great weapon.”
Though his voice still sounded young and inexperienced, the words he spoke were chilling. The assassin looked at Chu Lishu in disbelief. It was his first time using a gun.
Then he saw the black muzzle aimed right at his forehead. The assassin no longer dared to move.
“Tell me—who sent you? Why do you want to kill me? Was the arsonist from your group too?”
“Heh, kiddo, guns aren’t toys,” the assassin sneered, still shocked but trying to bluff with his experience. He wasn’t going to be intimidated by some teenager.
“So you don’t plan on telling the truth. Have you ever heard of the Zhou family’s ten most brutal tortures?”
“What?”
“So it really wasn’t the same timeline,” Chu Lishu muttered, a little disappointed, then continued, “No matter, you’ll understand soon enough. No one escapes the torment of these tortures unscathed. I just hope you can last a bit longer—don’t let me find out the truth too easily.” As he spoke, Chu Lishu moved with eerie precision, dislocating the assassin’s jaw to keep him from screaming. Just that one move was enough to terrify the man. By the time he realized this was no ordinary person, it was already too late.
During the three hours in that morgue, the assassin probably would’ve preferred being an actual corpse.
Once he got the answers he wanted, Chu Lishu left. At that point, the Lin family had arrived and practically turned the hospital upside down before finally finding Chu Lishu outside. He pretended to have been kidnapped, claiming the assassin had lost too much blood and passed out, which gave him the chance to escape.
When they eventually found the assassin, they were surprised to see he had indeed died from excessive blood loss—but judging by the condition of the body, he had suffered agonizing torture before death.
For the time being, the matter was left in the Lin family’s hands. As a result, they doubled their security around Chu Lishu. But they still had no idea who was really behind the attack. Their suspicions lingered among close relatives, unaware that the true culprit was someone else entirely.
When Chu Lishu returned, Lin Qingyang was still undergoing emergency surgery. The Lin family surrounded Chu Lishu with expressions of concern, speaking to him for a long while before urging him to rest. Once they left, he effortlessly avoided surveillance and snuck out of the room—only to find that outside the operating room, there were only medical staff and not a single member of the Lin family in sight.
When the others noticed him, they were shocked and tried to persuade him to return to his room. Chu Lishu hesitated. He didn’t see a reason to care so much about Lin Qingyang. After all, the man had gotten hurt trying to save him. Still…
At this point, Chu Lishu had already abandoned the idea of killing Lin Qingyang. Anyone willing to risk their life to save him had to be a completely different person. He decided to treat it as just a moment of being disgusted and to get to know this version of Lin Qingyang anew.
In the end, Chu Lishu did go back to rest, but he couldn’t sleep no matter how hard he tried. It wasn’t until the nurse came in the next day to administer an IV drip that he finally asked,
Lin Qingyang’s surgery had gone well. None of the injuries were in critical areas. If it had been anyone else, they would’ve already returned to a regular hospital room to recover. But his body had long been at its limit, barely holding on. Now, he had been transferred to the ICU, and no one knew if he would ever come back. The nurse couldn’t help but shed tears as she spoke.
After the nurse left, Chu Lishu got up. He paced around, clearly restless, but eventually found himself walking toward the easel by the window. He had often seen Lin Qingyang there, drawing and painting.
Curious, he stepped closer to take a look. The first painting was of the garden outside the window. Even though there was no sunlight out there at the moment, the painting itself seemed bathed in warm, radiant light, so vivid it gave off a comforting glow.
He remembered one of his teachers from art class saying that paintings reflect the artist’s inner world. Chu Lishu thought that perhaps this Lin Qingyang from this world was just like this painting—filled with sunshine and warmth.
He turned to the next piece—and froze.
One painting. Two. Three. They were all of him. One showed him wrapped in bandages like a mummy on the hospital bed, another was a study from a photo, and there were also detailed sketches of his facial features.
This guy had actually been secretly drawing him.
The brushstrokes were gentle, filled with kindness, and yet they made Chu Lishu incredibly uncomfortable.
As he expected, this Lin Qingyang was just like the one from before—a pervert with a crush on him. Why couldn’t they just like normal women? Why did it have to be men?
No, wait. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions so fast. Maybe Lin Qingyang had just been bored and sketching for fun.
Chu Lishu struggled with himself for a while before managing not to tear the drawings apart. Further in the sketchbook, he even found portraits of the head nurses, but the feeling those drawings conveyed was clearly different. That made Chu Lishu even more suspicious of Lin Qingyang’s feelings toward him.
He sat down, sulking, but silently told himself that Lin Qingyang didn’t have many days left anyway. They wouldn’t be seeing each other again. There was no point worrying about it.
That night, Chu Lishu forced himself to sleep. But the quieter it got, the harder it was to fall asleep. It was like the first night all over again—only when that person was by his side could he drift off peacefully.
Late into the night, the hallway leading to the ICU passed by the director’s office. The light was still on inside, and there were voices coming from within.
“We’ve checked three times—there’s no mistake. Chu Lishu has no blood relation to the Lin family. Either there was a mix-up along the way, or the late Miss Lin lied to the orphanage. This child was never hers.”
“Alright, I understand. Keep this strictly confidential until the next board meeting. If anyone dares leak even half a word—”
“I understand. I won’t say a thing. Oh, right, President Lin—your son probably only has a couple of days left. Do you want to visit—?”
“No need. Just inform my secretary to handle the funeral arrangements when the time comes. He’s not bad. Helping his father one last time before dying—thanks to this act, regardless of whose child Chu Lishu is, as long as he can help me, that’s all that matters.”
With that, President Lin left the director’s office.
Unbeknownst to him, someone had heard everything clearly from outside.
That person was none other than Chu Lishu. He hadn’t thought the information he got from the assassin was already amusing enough—but now, it turned out there was something even more entertaining.
In this country, there were a few prominent families with long-standing histories. The Lin family was one of them. Another was the Yuan family, their old rival.
The late Miss Lin had been a woman madly obsessed with love. After clinging to a man from the Yuan family, she got pregnant. But the man already had a legal wife and children. He refused to divorce and just wanted to be a scumbag. Years ago, an accident took his life—and that of his legitimate son. The wife had sought revenge. After several investigations, she traced things back to the orphanage. She believed the child in the orphanage was Miss Lin’s illegitimate son, the one who had destroyed her family and indirectly caused her husband and son’s deaths.
Chu Lishu had also believed that Madam Yuan wanted to kill him out of a simple desire for revenge.
But he had never imagined—he wasn’t even Miss Lin’s son.
Miss Lin would have had no reason to leave behind an innocent child just to take the fall for revenge. That would have been utterly meaningless. If she had wanted to take revenge, the most likely scenario was that he was actually Madam Yuan’s son. The child who died in the car crash with the man from the Yuan family might have been Miss Lin’s. After all, it was a baby who died in a car crash—who could tell who was who?
He hadn’t expected it at all, but now it seemed… he might have to change his surname to Yuan.
And he really wasn’t related to Lin Qingyang by blood after all.
Chu Lishu wasn’t particularly shocked—he just found it all ridiculously funny. Like clowns jumping around on a stage. No matter whose child he was, those who had hurt him… he would make sure they paid.
Chu Lishu went to the ICU. Through the glass, he could see Lin Qingyang’s profile. That face looked even paler than the last time he saw it—pale as death itself.
Chu Lishu opened the door and stepped inside. He stood for a while, looking down. He could feel how faint Lin Qingyang’s breathing was, like he could stop breathing at any moment. He muttered to himself, “Are you really going to die?”
Chu Lishu drew in a quiet breath. Ever since he found out who Lin Qingyang really was, he had felt nothing but revulsion. He never wanted to even catch his scent. Every time he got close, he practically held his breath. But just now, he had breathed in naturally. That familiar scent washed over him—not only did it not disgust him, it actually felt comforting. They really were different.
Chu Lishu hesitated, then finally reached out and grabbed Lin Qingyang’s wrist. He just wanted to check how much longer Lin Qingyang had left. That was all.
Suddenly, Chu Lishu stiffened, frowning slightly. This was an internal injury.
Someone had forced a surge of inner energy into Lin Qingyang’s body—strong, concentrated internal force—trapped there with no outlet, slowly destroying his internal organs from within.
But wasn’t this world supposed to be one where no one truly knew martial arts?
Chu Lishu’s expression shifted rapidly. Gradually, he began channeling his inner energy through the wrist he had grabbed, helping to relieve Lin Qingyang’s condition.
Lin Qingyang’s complexion visibly improved at a speed one could see with the naked eye.
Chu Lishu frowned slightly. Lin Qingyang wasn’t beyond saving. As long as someone with powerful internal energy consistently helped relieve him every day, over time, the conflicting energy inside him could be dissolved. After a period of nourishment, he would naturally recover his health.
However, this method was extremely troublesome and exhausting. After so many years, the Lin family hadn’t been able to cure him, clearly unaware of any powerful expert who could help. They certainly wouldn’t go out of their way for Lin Qingyang, and even if they tried, it would take time—and Lin Qingyang didn’t have that long. He likely wouldn’t last more than a few days. As for himself, Chu Lishu had no intention of going to such lengths. Not killing him was already the first act of mercy he had shown in this new world.
Just then, the wrist through which he was transferring energy suddenly moved, snapping Chu Lishu back to his senses—but he forgot to let go.
“Cousin,”
Chu Lishu stiffly turned to look and met a pair of slightly teary, misty eyes. Those clear, luminous eyes made it instantly clear—this was a different Lin Qingyang, a completely new person.
“Cousin, are you hurt? How’s that assassin?”
Chu Lishu regained his composure and said, “The assassin was caught. I’m fine.”
“That’s good… Where is this place? Am I about to die?” Lin Qingyang chuckled foolishly. “Didn’t think it would come early after all.”
“You did it to save me,” Chu Lishu said in a flat tone, merely stating the fact.
Lin Qingyang smiled. “Yeah, so you have to remember me. Come visit my grave sometime.”
Chu Lishu couldn’t understand how he could still laugh. Not only was he laughing softly, but the more he looked at him, the more exaggerated the laughter became.
Chu Lishu frowned. “What are you laughing at?”
Lin Qingyang replied, “Cousin, did you even look at yourself before stepping out? You look exactly like a resurrected mummy. If someone saw you, they’d definitely be scared to death! Hahaha.”
Chu Lishu tried to recall what a mummy was and looked at Lin Qingyang with a hint of speechlessness.
“Hey… weird, why do I feel so energetic?” Lin Qingyang was stunned for a moment, then his expression went blank with slight embarrassment. “Is this what they call a final burst of energy before death?”
Chu Lishu frowned and was just about to let go when Lin Qingyang grabbed his hand in return.
Chu Lishu instinctively felt repulsed. He couldn’t accept being held like this—especially not by a man, and especially not one who looked somewhat like him, who was also called Lin Qingyang.
“Don’t go, cousin. Don’t go… I don’t want to face this final moment alone. It won’t last long. Just stay with me for a bit. Consider it repayment for saving your life.” Lin Qingyang had originally thought he would face death alone. He hadn’t been afraid before, but now that someone was here with him and about to leave, he found himself terrified.
He gripped Chu Lishu’s wrist tightly. Only when he felt Chu Lishu stop resisting and realized he wouldn’t pull away did he finally breathe a sigh of relief.
“Cousin, you have to be careful from now on. The people in the Lin family are all no good. I know you’re a good person, so you have to protect yourself. Be wary of others, understand? If you get the chance, stay far away from them.”
Chu Lishu didn’t understand why Lin Qingyang was worrying about him at a time like this. Maybe he was just trying to find something to talk about.
“I’ll be leaving this world soon. There are still so many things I haven’t done. I haven’t even gone to high school or college. I’ve never lived in a dorm, I haven’t… I haven’t even fallen in love, I—”
“Why are you telling me this?” Chu Lishu suddenly felt uncomfortable. What did his lack of romantic experience have to do with him? Why say it to him specifically?
“Oh, right… I still have a few things in my hospital room. If you don’t mind, just take them. I’m not going back anyway. As long as you don’t find it too shabby.” Lin Qingyang gave a dry laugh and continued talking nonstop, afraid that if he didn’t, he might not get another chance.
But Chu Lishu was starting to lose patience. Seeing that Lin Qingyang was clearly forcing himself to stay awake just to talk, he said, “Enough, you need to rest.”
“No… I can’t… I don’t want to die yet.”
“Who said you’re dying? I promise, you’ll be back in your hospital room by tomorrow.” The words slipped out of Chu Lishu’s mouth, and he instantly regretted it. But when he saw Lin Qingyang’s silly, dazed face, blinking those wide eyes at him and asking, “Really?”
Chu Lishu hesitated for a long while before finally replying, “Mm, really. Now sleep.”
“You’re not lying to me?” Lin Qingyang asked, though his eyes were already starting to close.
“A gentleman never goes back on his word.”
Lin Qingyang murmured, “What kind of weird phrase is that… haha, cousin, you’re really something…”
And with that, Lin Qingyang drifted off to sleep.
A quiet sigh echoed through the room. The next morning, everyone was surprised to find that Lin Qingyang’s condition had actually improved. He might even hold on for a while longer.
Seeing how much better he looked, they soon transferred him back to his room.
Lin Qingyang was wheeled back on a mobile hospital bed. As soon as he saw Chu Lishu also lying in bed receiving an IV, he immediately raised his arm with excitement to wave hello—only to forget that his arm had also been grazed by a bullet. He let out a loud howl.
Chu Lishu frowned in annoyance.
The head nurse immediately scolded him, and Lin Qingyang could only apologize obediently and return to his own bed. But the moment he got back, he turned himself toward Chu Lishu and started talking again.
Once the nurses left, Lin Qingyang quickly said, “Cousin, did you come see me last night because you were worried about me? From now on, we have to get along as real brothers.”
Chu Lishu gave him a light glance and responded with a simple “Mm.”
Now that he had decided to save him, he wouldn’t hesitate. As long as this kid didn’t do anything to upset him, he would grant him life. Consider it a blessing for his new beginning in this new world.
“Then call me ‘Cousin,’ okay? No one’s ever called me that before.”
Chu Lishu’s brow twitched. Was this guy already trying to push his buttons? Did he have a death wish?
Chu Lishu ignored him. Lin Qingyang didn’t mind. In his eyes, his cousin just had a cold exterior but a soft heart. Otherwise, why else would he sneak in to see him last night, especially when he hadn’t fully recovered and wasn’t supposed to be out of bed?
He had asked the nurse sister—since entering intensive care, not a single person had come to visit him. Only his cousin had cared. Lin Qingyang was genuinely happy. Even if his cousin was just feeling guilty or acting out of gratitude for saving his life, it still made Lin Qingyang happy. And this kind of happiness was different from the friendly relationships he had with the hospital staff.
It was the kind of happiness that made Lin Qingyang feel completely content inside—so sweet and fulfilling that even if he were to die soon, he wouldn’t have any regrets.
“Cousin, how did you know I’d be back yesterday?”
“I just said it randomly.”
“Hahaha, I figured as much. Oh right, I heard you’ll be able to take your bandages off in a few days. How’s the recovery going?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“By the way, you’ve always been so good-looking—do you have a little girlfriend?” Lin Qingyang asked with a mischievous curiosity.
Chu Lishu gave him a long, meaningful look. “I do.” So, whatever budding feelings you might be having, just drop them. Even if you’re like that scumbag and into guys, don’t even think about having any designs on me.
Lin Qingyang laughed. “I thought so too. Then you’d better hurry up and get better—don’t make her worry.”
Chu Lishu was momentarily taken aback. Seeing Lin Qingyang’s straightforward and graceful manner, he thought it wasn’t so bad. As long as he knew when to back off.
A few days later, the bandages on Chu Lishu were removed. Thanks to the highest-level treatment and cosmetic reconstruction, his appearance was almost completely restored. However, his skin had become very sensitive—especially to ultraviolet light.
Lin Qingyang sat on the hospital bed, staring blankly at Chu Lishu, who had just been brought back. He looked even better than in the photos, so striking that Lin Qingyang couldn’t help wanting to draw him.
Many members of the Lin family were gathered around. A few younger girls even blushed when they saw Chu Lishu. Once everything was confirmed and arrangements for the upcoming meeting were settled, the Lin family members left. Chu Lishu still needed to continue recovering in the hospital room.
When Lin Qingyang’s parents saw that their son was still alive, they were a bit surprised. But they didn’t say much—just told him to take care of Chu Lishu, to which Lin Qingyang nodded.
It wasn’t until everyone had left that Chu Lishu turned to look at Lin Qingyang, expecting him to be watching. Instead, he found him staring blankly out the window.
He was watching the direction in which those people had left.
Before, one of Chu Lishu’s eyes had always been covered, so he’d never looked at Lin Qingyang with both eyes. It was the same scene, yet for some reason, it felt slightly different now.
On the bed near the window sat a pale, slender boy. Only half of his delicate features were visible in profile—soft and finely shaped. But he was far too thin, revealing a clear sense of illness. The sunlight on his body looked like it had sprinkled a layer of golden dust over him, making him seem unreal, almost like a phantom.
Chu Lishu’s face twisted slightly with impatience. He had been transferring his inner energy to him every night to keep him alive, yet the boy seemed to care more about those people who didn’t even take him seriously. Chu Lishu coughed, breaking Lin Qingyang’s daze.
Lin Qingyang turned his head and immediately grinned, giving him a thumbs up. “You really are good-looking. Like, next-level handsome.”
Chu Lishu let out an almost imperceptible snort. “Mm. Now my girlfriend won’t have to worry.” Just a reminder—it’s not your face to admire.
Lin Qingyang thought his little cousin was missing his girlfriend and couldn’t help but laugh. “Young love affects your studies, you know… though, with your grades being what they are, I guess I don’t have much to say. Just don’t let the teachers find out.”
Chu Lishu tilted his head back and stopped responding to him.
But, as expected, it didn’t take long before Lin Qingyang started talking again. He kept trying to pull him into watching movies, playing chess, or gaming together. Chu Lishu was fine with all of that—it helped him adjust to this world—but there was one thing he absolutely refused.
“Why can’t I draw you? Just be my model once. You look amazing!”
“No,” Chu Lishu rejected flatly.
Lin Qingyang stared at him in frustration, then said, “Then let’s take a selfie together!”
The word caught Chu Lishu off guard. It was unfamiliar—he needed a second to process it. But in that one-second delay, Lin Qingyang had already raised his phone from his position on the bed and framed Chu Lishu into the shot. He made a peace sign with his fingers and, before Chu Lishu could react, shouted, “Look here and smile!”
The shutter clicked. The image froze. Two boys in hospital gowns—one older, cheerful and radiant in front of the camera; the other younger, caught behind with a pure, slightly confused expression. Yet his beauty outshone even the sunlight.
A few months later, Chu Lishu was discharged from the hospital. Because he had taken a firm stand on the Lin family’s ruling side during the board meeting and followed his uncle’s every instruction, General Manager Lin was very pleased. He thought this unnamed “nephew” was much easier to control. After all, once the relationship was confirmed, it would either mean continuing to pursue the actual nephew—rendering his shares void as a neutral vote—or confirming the real nephew was dead, which would require the sister’s shares to be evenly redistributed. So the fake nephew was preferable.
As a result, the Lin family head personally brought Chu Lishu home. Officially, it was to “care for him,” but in truth, it was surveillance.
However, Chu Lishu made one request: he wanted Lin Qingyang to be discharged with him and move back to the Lin residence together.
Over the past few months, Lin Qingyang’s health had significantly improved. Although his medical reports still showed multiple organ issues and he technically should’ve remained hospitalized, he agreed to leave the hospital the moment Chu Lishu brought it up.
Because Lin Qingyang knew the hospital hadn’t done anything substantial to treat him—his condition had improved on its own. He didn’t know why or how long he had left, but if he had the chance, he didn’t want to die in a hospital. He wanted to live freely in the outside world.
Before, it was the Lin family who had forbidden him from leaving. Now that he had the choice, he would choose discharge without hesitation. Even if it meant going back to the Lin household, he didn’t feel afraid anymore—because he had his cousin with him.
He also didn’t feel comfortable leaving that cold-faced, soft-hearted cousin alone in the Lin house, where people would devour him down to the bone. In his limited time left, he wanted to help however he could. At least then he would’ve done something meaningful.
Just like he had said—if he died, at least his cousin would be the one person who would genuinely visit his grave and remember him. That was enough.
So, the two of them moved back together, into rooms side by side. What Lin Qingyang didn’t know, though, was that every night, Chu Lishu would quietly enter his room, hold his wrist, and transfer inner energy into him.
All Lin Qingyang could feel was that his body was gradually getting better.
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