After Transmigrating into a Sadistic Novel, the Socially Anxious Sickly Beauty Just Wants to Sleep - Chapter 3

Uncle Chen had just dropped Jian Anmian off at the villa when he received a message from Yan Zhimuo telling him to return. He had no choice but to set the luggage down and offer Jian Anmian an apologetic look. “Mr. Jian, I’ve left your things at the door. President Yan needs me back urgently, so I’ll be heading out first.”

“Alright, thank you, Uncle Chen.”

After Uncle Chen left, Jian Anmian turned around. Facing the tall, magnificent villa before him, he took a nervous breath.

From today on, he was the wife of the male lead.

There were still several years before his scheduled death. He hoped that during this time, he could lock away his heart and remain indifferent to worldly desires—specifically, not to be seduced by the male lead’s looks and follow in the original protagonist’s tragic footsteps.

Jian Anmian clenched his fists and pressed the doorbell. A moment later, the door opened. A warm, efficient-looking woman bustled out and immediately helped him with his bags. “Oh my, you must be little Mr. Jian! What a beautiful child. No wonder Mr. Yan likes you. Why are you still standing at the door? Come in, come in! I’m the housekeeper; you can just call me Auntie Wang.”

Jian Anmian trotted along behind her. He instinctively pulled his mask tighter to hide his slightly flushed face and whispered politely, “…Auntie Wang.”

Auntie Wang gave a cheery reply. “It’s a long way here; you must be hot. That Old Chen is really something, not even helping you bring your bags inside. Come, come, let’s go upstairs and turn on the air conditioning. I’ll help you get settled.”

Jian Anmian’s room was on the second floor. They took the elevator up to unpack, and then Auntie Wang went downstairs to cook, not forgetting to tell him to look around and make himself at home.

Once she was gone, Jian Anmian hurriedly took off his mask. He couldn’t help but furrow his brows, leaning against the bed for support as he gasped for air. His face was as white as wallpaper.

He had spent too much time in cars today. This body was riddled with ailments, including severe motion sickness. The original protagonist must have taken medication before leaving this morning to endure the first few trips without vomiting, but that last ride had pushed him to his limit.

After resting on the bed for a while, he stripped off his long sleeves and pants and weakly headed to the bathroom.

A hot soak finally made him feel a bit better. If he hadn’t started feeling dizzy from anemia, he would have stayed in the tub even longer.

Coincidentally, Auntie Wang had finished dinner, so Jian Anmian prepared to head down. Since there was no real need for the elevator for one floor, he headed toward the stairs.

However, as soon as he reached the top and looked down, his vision suddenly went black. His heart raced as if he were about to plummet, and he scrambled back in terror.

He had almost forgotten: the protagonist didn’t just have anemia, low blood sugar, motion sickness, and severe allergies—he also had a fear of heights (acrophobia).

And those weren’t the only issues. Jian Anmian couldn’t remember the rest for now; he’d have to explore them personally.

Jian Anmian: “…”

He suddenly had a newfound respect for “sickly beauties” in novels. To have survived this long was truly a feat of endurance. Still, being able to walk was much better than his previous life, where he was confined to a bed.

After his heart rate calmed down, he took the elevator instead.

Sitting at the table, he remembered his severe allergies. Since he wasn’t the original soul, he didn’t actually know what he could or couldn’t eat. This was awkward.

Sensing his hesitation, Auntie Wang smiled kindly. “Don’t worry, Mr. Jian. Please, eat. Mr. Yan specifically gave me a list of your allergens beforehand. Everything here is safe for you.”

Jian Anmian breathed a sigh of relief and thanked her. After a pause, he gathered his courage and whispered, “Um… could I please have a copy of that list?”

Auntie Wang blinked, then laughed. “Mr. Jian, you’re too polite! Of course. However, I only handle your daily life, so I only have the food and contact allergens. It might not be complete. You might have to ask Mr. Yan for the full version.”

“I see. Thank you.” Jian Anmian thanked her gloomily and ate his meal. He thought to himself that he really would have to seek out the male lead after all. Although he wasn’t afraid to die, he didn’t want to accidentally kill himself over something stupid.

But how should he ask? Would the male lead think he was crazy? Not even knowing his own allergies and having to ask a husband he just had a shotgun wedding with… it sounded like he had a “brain problem.” qvq

He went back to his room and lay on the bed, still pondering how to approach the subject until he fell asleep.

It was a night of perfect rest.

The next morning, Jian Anmian woke up naturally. For a moment, he thought he was in heaven. His body was warm, and the bed beneath him was so soft. He had never felt this comfortable in his entire life.

As expected, only after dying and going to heaven can one sleep this well, right?

He stared at the ceiling with bleary eyes for several minutes before it finally clicked—he had transmigrated. He was the sickly protagonist of an angst novel. Though he was full of illnesses, he now possessed a soft bed, good sleep, and a quiet, empty room.

Heavens! He only just realized how great transmigrating was! He had been tortured by illness for 20 years and never had a good night’s sleep until the day he died. He was going to make up for all that lost sleep!

Thinking this, he yawned and rubbed his eyes sluggishly. So sleepy… I’ll sleep a bit longer. When the time comes, please wake me up to go die. Thanks… zZZ.

After his “awakening,” Yan Zhimuo had learned a few things. On the day of the accident, he couldn’t wait to be discharged so he could handle urgent company business. By the time he finally caught a break, a week had already passed.

During that week, Secretary Liu was discharged and promoted to the Administrative Department as promised. Xiao Hanzhou’s investigation hadn’t made much progress, which Yan Zhimuo expected—his second uncle was far too cunning to be caught easily.

As Yan Zhimuo plotted his next move, the car arrived home. Auntie Wang rushed out to greet him. He handed her his coat and scanned the room. “Where is Jian Anmian?”

He had already decided to divorce him, but things had been delayed. He was back specifically to get the boy to sign the papers.

Auntie Wang smiled. “Little Mr. Jian is already asleep.”

“Asleep?” Yan Zhimuo was stunned. He glanced at the clock: 9:00 PM. “This early?”

Auntie Wang said pityingly, “His health is poor. He goes to sleep every day before the sun is even fully down.”

Yan Zhimuo: “…Then what time does he get up?”

Auntie Wang smiled. “He comes down on his own whenever it’s time to eat, then goes back up to sleep once he’s finished.”

Yan Zhimuo: “…” Did I marry a ‘Sleep God’?

Upstairs.

Jian Anmian woke up with a sudden, strong urge to use the bathroom. Without even taking the time to turn on the light, he hurried into the restroom in the dark. After finishing, he wandered back out in a sleepwalking daze.

Although the curtains were drawn, it wasn’t pitch black, yet Jian Anmian moved like a blind man, arms outstretched, feeling his way along. His bleary eyes simply couldn’t focus in the dim light.

Strange, why is it so dark? I can’t see anything. These curtains are really effective.

Never mind. The bed was only a few steps away. No need for the light.

At that moment, Yan Zhimuo, having finished dinner, was heading to his own room. Passing Jian Anmian’s door, he heard movement inside and paused. Since the boy was awake, he might as well get the divorce papers signed now to avoid missing him in the morning.

He stepped forward and knocked.

Inside, Jian Anmian had just reached the door when a loud thud-thud-thud sounded right by his ear, sending a series of vibrations through his palm.

“Ah!”

Startled, he lurched back a few steps. He tripped over something, lost his balance, and fell onto the carpet with a heavy thud.

“Jian Anmian?”

Hearing the noise, Yan Zhimuo frowned and tried the handle. It opened immediately.

By the door, Jian Anmian was sitting on the white plush carpet in his soft cotton pajamas. The hallway light spilled over the frame, illuminating his face. His dark eyes were filled with lingering terror, his lashes damp, his lips parted, and his expression utterly dazed.

Yan Zhimuo paused. “Are you alright?”

“N-no… I’m fine.” Jian Anmian’s face flushed instantly. Being caught falling was so embarrassing. He pressed his hands against the floor to stand up, and Yan Zhimuo stepped forward to help.

Just then, the sound-activated hallway light timed out and died.

Jian Anmian’s world plunged into total darkness. He watched Yan Zhimuo’s face vanish before his eyes as if he had suddenly gone blind.

Panic seized him. The fear of the dark overwhelmed him instantly. His heart hammered, his breath hitched, and he instinctively called out to the powerful man before him, reaching out blindly into the air. “Mr. Yan…”

“Jian Anmian?” Yan Zhimuo frowned. He grabbed Jian Anmian’s wrists firmly and pinned them against the wall, asking deeply, “Can you see me? Jian Anmian?”

Due to his social anxiety, Jian Anmian wasn’t used to physical touch. With his vision gone, the sensation of touch was magnified a hundredfold. The man’s palms were large and dry, sending waves of heat through his skin into his veins, bringing a dense, itchy sensation. His breath was hot and deep against his ear, while the wall against his back was ice cold.

Caught between heat and cold, his heart rate spiked. His head felt numb, and his chest felt heavy, as if blocked by a stone. He could barely catch his breath. “Mr. Yan, I can’t see…”

Help! How could I forget? The original protagonist has night blindness!

Since moving in, he had slept before dark every day and woken up after sunrise. He had never encountered darkness, so he didn’t know that this body became blind in low light!

Furthermore, the original body had poor lungs—a terrible case of spontaneous pneumothorax. Whenever he got nervous, he struggled to breathe, feeling like he might pass out at any second.

Jian Anmian: “…” This body is a write-off!

Yan Zhimuo looked down. The youth’s lips were slightly parted as he struggled for air. His face was flushed from suffocation, his lashes were trembling violently, and his body was shaking. Because of the touch, even the corners of his eyes were red with shame, looking like a pitiful small animal caught by a predator.

“Jian Anmian, calm down!” Yan Zhimuo said sternly.

Jian Anmian wanted to cry but had no tears. I can’t calm down precisely because you’re holding me!

For reasons unknown to himself, Yan Zhimuo leaned in closer and reached out to gently brush the hair from Jian Anmian’s forehead. He met a pair of large, dark eyes shimmering with moisture in the dark—more beautiful than any gemstone he had ever seen.

Jian Anmian used his free hand to clutch Yan Zhimuo’s sleeve, his voice trembling: “Mr. Yan…”

Please let go of me, I can’t breathe!

Yan Zhimuo’s gaze darkened. “Don’t act spoiled.”

Jian Anmian: “…?” I’m not, I didn’t!

Yan Zhimuo paused, then added, “Though, acting spoiled is fine too.” He was actually quite weak to this sort of thing.

Jian Anmian: “???”

Misunderstanding Jian Anmian’s distress, Yan Zhimuo leaned down and scooped him up in a princess carry. He walked the few steps to the bed, laid him down, and stared at the boy’s crimson face, asking knowingly, “Do you need me to do anything else?”

“Please… could you turn on the light?” Jian Anmian paused, then whispered, “If that’s okay?”

Yan Zhimuo smiled. “Of course.”

He reached out and clicked the small lamp on the nightstand. Click. Warm orange light instantly filled the room.

Jian Anmian instinctively squeezed his eyes shut before slowly opening them to adjust. Finally! He could see again! He stole a quick look at Yan Zhimuo, then lowered his head, acting very constrained. “Mr. Yan, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sensing that the man was still staring at him, Jian Anmian became restless. “Mr. Yan… is there anything else?” If not, please leave so I can sleep, okay? qwq

Yan Zhimuo silent for two seconds. “There is indeed something I need to discuss with you.” He walked to the door, picked up his fallen briefcase, and pulled out a divorce agreement. He thrust a pen into Jian Anmian’s hand. “After careful consideration, I feel this marriage is unsuitable in many ways. I hope we can reconsider our relationship.”

Jian Anmian froze. “…Huh?”

Yan Zhimuo spoke in a business-like tone. “You can make any demands you like. I will provide everything promised in the original contract as compensation.”

Jian Anmian didn’t have any specific demands. He was just… a bit stunned. This didn’t happen in the original book. Was it a butterfly effect caused by his transmigration?

Regardless, he had no power to choose. If the male lead wanted a divorce, then fine. Divorce quickly so he could sleep; he was so tired.

Jian Anmian took the agreement and, without looking at a single word, flipped straight to the signature page. Pointing to the blank space, he looked up at Yan Zhimuo and asked obediently, “Do I sign here?”

For some reason, seeing Jian Anmian agree so readily made Yan Zhimuo feel a bit stifled. His tone turned cold. “Yes, right there. Sign it and we’ll divorce immediately—”

Clack. The pen fell to the floor, splashing black ink onto the snow-white carpet.

Jian Anmian recoiled into the blankets, eyes wide with caution. He said timidly, “S-sorry, Mr. Yan… I seem to have no strength left. Can you wait for me to ‘recharge’ for a bit?”

He hadn’t expected the body to be this weak. Just a small fright in the dark, and he couldn’t even hold a pen.

Yan Zhimuo silently picked up the pen. “…It’s fine. We’ll talk after you wake up. The pen is broken anyway.”

As for the fact that he could easily go back to the study and grab another pen… whatever. He just didn’t feel like walking.

“Thank you, Mr. Yan. Then… goodnight?”

“Goodnight.” Yan Zhimuo left the room with the blank agreement and closed the door gently.

He didn’t even notice that at the moment he picked up the pen, he had secretly breathed a sigh of relief.