After Transmigrating into a Sadistic Novel, the Socially Anxious Sickly Beauty Just Wants to Sleep - Chapter 2

Yan Zhimuo had never imagined that he was a character in a novel.

The world he lived in was actually a “sadistic novel,” and he was the “scumbag lead.” He was destined to enter a contract marriage with the protagonist, Jian Anmian, whom he would eventually torture physically and mentally before both died in a double-suicide tragedy.

It was too absurd. Utterly ridiculous.

Yan Zhimuo’s first reaction was that he had hit his head too hard and developed delusions.

However, half an hour later, Yan Zhimuo stared at his medical report, which showed no major issues. He rubbed his head in disbelief, brow furrowed. “Is there really nothing wrong with my brain?”

Zhangsun Yong, wearing a white lab coat, twitched his lip. “A mild concussion. What, is that not enough for you?” He muttered, “If you ask me, you’re acting pretty ‘sick’ right now.”

For once, Yan Zhimuo didn’t snap back. The report in his hand was crumpled, and his expression flickered through a dozen different emotions.

Zhangsun Yong looked horrified. “Why aren’t you arguing with me? Are you okay?!”

Yan Zhimuo’s mouth twitched. “I have a problem.”

“Your head?” Zhangsun Yong asked, nearing a breakdown.

Yan Zhimuo said coldly, “I pulled my back during the crash. Go get me some pain relief patches for my muscles.”

Zhangsun Yong: “…”

A few minutes later, Zhangsun Yong was grumbling as he lifted the back of Yan Zhimuo’s shirt to apply the patches. Suddenly, Yan Zhimuo’s phone rang.

Yan Zhimuo took one look at it, and his face filled with unconcealed disgust.

Zhangsun Yong went to wash his hands, saying casually, “Your dad?”

Just as Yan Zhimuo was about to deny it, Zhangsun Yong corrected himself: “No, wait, it must be that ‘cheap’ stepmother of yours. There’s no way your dad would personally call to check on you.”

Yan Zhimuo sneered and answered the call.

His stepmother’s gentle, soft voice came through: “Zhimuo, I heard you were in a car accident. Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Yan Zhimuo gave a few perfunctory answers and hung up within a minute. Both sides had performed their surface-level courtesies perfectly.

Zhangsun Yong dried his hands and sighed. “Adults are such a hassle. You both clearly want the other to explode on the spot, yet you still play these hollow games for the sake of ‘morality’ and ‘etiquette.’ Don’t you get tired?”

Yan Zhimuo scoffed. “Regardless of what Bai Murong thinks, at least in front of Yan Zuyi, she maintains the image of a kind and virtuous mother.”

Yan Zhimuo’s family was a mess of “dog-blood” tropes: a scumbag father who drove his biological mother to her death, a cruel stepmother who was formerly the mistress, and a half-brother born out of wedlock. Add to that his sister-in-law and his second uncle’s family—not a single one of them was a decent human being.

Zhangsun Yong lowered his voice. “Is it possible your stepmother arranged the accident?”

Without hesitation, Yan Zhimuo denied it. “No. She lacks the IQ, and while her character is poor, she’s a coward. She wouldn’t dare hire a hitman.”

Zhangsun Yong shrugged. “Then that just leaves your second uncle.”

Yan Zhimuo’s eyes darkened. “I’ve already asked Hanzhou to investigate. If it really was him, he’ll have to pay the price for his actions…”

A knock at the door interrupted them.

Yan Zhimuo said quietly, “Come in.”

Jian Anmian pushed the door open. Seeing a doctor in a lab coat alongside Yan Zhimuo, he immediately lowered his head in nerves and whispered, “Hello.”

“Oh my, how cute!” Zhangsun Yong’s eyes lit up. He rubbed his hands together mischievously. “So you’re the little bride Old Yan just brought home? You look so young. Are you actually an adult? Old Yan didn’t commit a crime, did he?”

Jian Anmian was startled. He instinctively looked toward the only man he knew for help. “Mr. Yan…”

Yan Zhimuo’s mood suddenly improved. His back didn’t ache as much, and his head felt clearer. He beckoned Jian Anmian. “Come here.”

Jian Anmian hurried over, his thin frame pressing close to the side of Yan Zhimuo’s bed. His large, dark eyes peeked at Zhangsun Yong through the gaps in his lashes.

Holy crap, Zhangsun Yong thought. Where did this dog Yan kidnap such an obedient kid?

Zhangsun Yong was so charmed he was practically hyperventilating. Then he heard Yan Zhimuo introduce him: “This is Zhangsun Yong. He’s a pervert and a playboy. Good boys shouldn’t talk to perverts; they’re ‘unclean’.”

“F—! Yan, you bastard—”

Yan Zhimuo interrupted him lazily. “Good children shouldn’t listen to filth.”

Meeting Yan Zhimuo’s commanding gaze, Jian Anmian reflexively covered his ears.

“…You’re something else,” Zhangsun Yong said, flipping Yan Zhimuo off. He turned back to Jian Anmian with a smile that looked unfortunately creepy. “Hello, Xiao Jian. I’m Zhangsun Yong, your husband’s private doctor. You can call me Brother Yong. Don’t listen to that dog Yan; I might look like a flirt, but I’m actually very pure. I’ve had fewer than ten relationships!”

Jian Anmian blinked. Ah, so he’s the standard “Best Friend Doctor” archetype found in every CEO novel.

As everyone knows, every CEO lead must have a doctor friend who:

1. Visits the villa weekly to treat the lead’s “CEO stomach issues.”

2. Never turns off his phone so he can be summoned at 3:00 AM when the “shou” is half-dead from the lead’s torment.

3. Travels through rain or snow to act as the ultimate plot device.

Other archetypal tools included the Lawyer Friend, the Private Investigator Friend, the Housekeeper/Auntie, and the Special Assistant.

Jian Anmian looked at Zhangsun Yong’s extended hand and instinctively looked at Yan Zhimuo for permission.

Yan Zhimuo chuckled and tilted his chin up. This meant he could shake it.

Zhangsun Yong: Damn it!

Just as Jian Anmian was about to reach out, Yan Zhimuo added casually, “But don’t touch him.”

Since they had registered their marriage, the boy was his. Yan Zhimuo hadn’t even held his hand yet—how dare he touch another man?

Zhangsun Yong couldn’t take it anymore. He calls me a pervert? Who’s the real pervert here?!

Jian Anmian paused. He looked down at his sleeves, pulled the fabric over his fingertips, and gave Zhangsun Yong’s palm a lightning-fast poke before looking back at Yan Zhimuo.

Yan Zhimuo smiled and crooked a finger at him.

Jian Anmian blinked slowly, tentatively squatting down by the bed and offering his head.

Is… is this what he wants?

Like rewarding a puppy, Yan Zhimuo patted Jian Anmian’s head with satisfaction. “Mm. Good boy.”

Jian Anmian’s ears turned red instantly. All he was missing was a tail to wag.

Crap, Zhangsun Yong thought. What kind of live-action ‘puppy literature’ is this?!

Stunned by this display of affection, Zhangsun Yong couldn’t stay a second longer. He cupped his hands in a respectful exit. “I’m out!”

The door closed, leaving Jian Anmian and Yan Zhimuo alone.

Jian Anmian stole a glance at Yan Zhimuo. Though the man was sitting in a hospital bed, his aura was undiminished. He tapped his fingers rhythmically on the duvet, lost in thought.

Even though the man had just patted his head and smiled gently, Jian Anmian was still terrified. He didn’t dare disturb him. He just stayed squatted by the bed, watching the man’s fingertips tap. Once, twice…

After a while, Yan Zhimuo smirked. He got out of bed, tidied his clothes, and gave the back of Jian Anmian’s head a little nudge to tell him to stand up. “Let’s go. Accompany me to see how Secretary Liu is doing.”

Jian Anmian followed him closely. He suddenly remembered: Secretary Liu was the first “angst point” of the novel.

Her true identity was a corporate spy sent by Yan Zhimuo’s second uncle. The accident this morning was orchestrated by the uncle so that Secretary Liu could “save” Yan Zhimuo, earn his trust, and infiltrate the company.

In the original story, Secretary Liu used her status as his “savior” to bully the protagonist, and the scumbag lead allowed it. Later, at a banquet, she would even drug him, nearly leading to a “caught-in-the-act” scene with another woman.

Back when he read it, Jian Anmian’s blood pressure had skyrocketed. He wondered how he had even finished the book.

So, am I about to witness the beginning of the affair between the beautiful secretary and the scumbag lead? He felt a bit nervous.

They reached Secretary Liu’s ward. Yan Zhimuo knocked and entered. “Secretary Liu, how are you feeling?”

Secretary Liu looked pale. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, revealing her slender neck, and smiled weakly. “Thank you for your concern, President Yan. The doctor said it’s nothing serious. I can be discharged after a few days of rest.”

“That’s good.” Yan Zhimuo nodded. He sat on the opposite sofa, pulling Jian Anmian down by the waist to sit beside him. His fingers naturally brushed against Jian Anmian’s ear, watching as the pale skin turned pink.

Jian Anmian, who had intended to be a silent spectator, froze.

Wait… Mr. Scumbag Lead, aren’t you touching the wrong person? The one seducing you is Secretary Liu, not me!

Yan Zhimuo whispered softly, “What’s wrong, baby? Do you feel unwell?”

The man’s deep voice vibrated near his ear like a subwoofer. His warm breath made Jian Anmian’s head buzz. The red on his ears deepened. “N-no.”

Yan Zhimuo’s gaze was full of tenderness. “If you feel sick, tell me immediately, okay?”

Jian Anmian felt like he was going to faint. “Mhm…”

What is going on? Gong, what are you doing?!

Only then did Yan Zhimuo look back at Secretary Liu. “Secretary Liu, I haven’t properly thanked you. If you hadn’t risked your life to save me, I might have ended up with more than just a mild concussion.”

Secretary Liu’s smile stiffened. She quietly pulled her hair back over her ear. “You’re too kind, President Yan. It was an instinctual reaction. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“By the way,” Yan Zhimuo said casually, tapping the sofa arm, “how long have you been with the company?”

Secretary Liu blinked, sensing an opportunity. She sat up straighter. “Two years, President Yan.”

“Two years…” Yan Zhimuo said slowly. “I should certainly reward you.”

Secretary Liu’s breathing quickened. Her current role was a “lifestyle secretary”—essentially a glorified errand runner. Despite having a Master’s and PhD from a top university, she was stuck. Now, promotion seemed within reach.

“I will personally cover all your hospital expenses. Rest well. When you return to the company, come to my office to pick up a transfer report. You’ll be moving to the Administrative Department.”

Secretary Liu took a sharp breath. The Administrative Department drafted company documents and handled internal and external reports. It was a step into the core of the company. If she played it right, she could gather a lot of intelligence. This injury was definitely worth it.

“Thank you for your trust, President Yan. I won’t let you down.”

Jian Anmian couldn’t help but think: As long as you don’t leak his company’s money, that’s already a success.

“No, it’s I who should thank you,” Yan Zhimuo said. He took Jian Anmian’s hand and stood up. “Rest well. I won’t disturb you further.”

Jian Anmian stared at his captured hand. The process is weird, but the result—her promotion—is just like the novel.

Once they reached the hallway, Yan Zhimuo let go. He looked down at Jian Anmian coldly. “I’m going back to my ward. I’ll have the driver take you home, alright?”

The question was a command. His face was expressionless, his features sharp and cold. There wasn’t a trace of the tenderness from a moment ago.

Jian Anmian’s heart raced. This is it—the unpredictable scumbag lead from the book. He treated the protagonist like a toy; sweet words when he was interested, a cold shoulder when he wasn’t.

Terrified of the man’s cold face and powerful physique, Jian Anmian nodded obediently. He decided he would be even more submissive than the original character; hopefully, the “sadistic” parts would be lighter that way.

He didn’t care about “heartbreak”—he couldn’t be hurt by someone he didn’t love. As for physical pain… he had survived 20 years of chronic illness. No matter how “rough” the lead was in bed, it couldn’t be worse than the pain of his actual disease.

Yan Zhimuo had no idea that his 30-year-old virgin self had already been labeled as “bad in bed” by his new wife.

After sending Jian Anmian away, Yan Zhimuo sent a message to his private investigator friend.

Yan Zhimuo: [File: Secretary Liu’s Personal Data]

Yan Zhimuo: Investigate her. Specifically, look into her ties with my second uncle. This morning’s accident is likely connected to them.

Xiao Hanzhou: Copy that.

Yan Zhimuo returned to his ward to think. Although he had “awakened,” he only had the “God’s eye view” of the novel plot. It was a romance novel, so the business side was barely described. He knew who the bad guys were, but he had to figure out the “how” himself.

Secretary Liu was a minor pawn. The real trouble was his second uncle and cousin. He’d fought those lunatics for years. He wondered how the “novel version” of himself—who apparently only cared about sleeping with the protagonist—had actually won.

Thinking of the protagonist, Yan Zhimuo’s frown deepened. Most of the trouble in the book started because of Jian Anmian. The simplest way to avoid the plot was to stay away from the “protagonist.”

Premise: If I marry the protagonist, I die.

Conclusion: If I divorce him, I won’t die.

Having solved this logic, he called his lawyer friend. “Old Fu, draft a divorce agreement for me. I’ll need it soon.”

“Divorce? Didn’t you just get married today? Yong told me you were acting all ‘lovey-dovey’ with your new wife?”

Yan Zhimuo smirked. “As long as we have that certificate, he is mine for the day. Legally, whatever I do to him is my right. As for the divorce, don’t worry about it. I have my own plans.”

“…Wow, what a scumbag. I misjudged Yong; compared to you, he’s a saint.”

“Just get it ready. I’ll send someone to pick it up later.”

Yan Zhimuo put down his phone. Jian Anmian’s clear, clean eyes flashed through his mind. He shook his head, put on his shoes, and messaged the driver. He was discharging himself.

He wasn’t a “good person.” How his actions would hurt the protagonist didn’t matter to him—as long as he stayed alive.