Chapter 1
"After the Obsessive Villain's Little Dad Awakened" by Su Jiuying / Su Liuyun [Completed]
Synopsis:
Wen Cishu awakened and discovered he had been living in a book.
His health had always been poor because the author would not give him a chance to live.
After his death, his son would become the obsessive second male lead who ruined the main couple's romance.
-
On the first day after his awakening, his nine-year-old brat, Bo Yiming, yelled at home:
"I don't care! I'm entering that idol competition!"
"I'm going to become a top idol someday!"
Barely able to breathe, Wen Cishu said, "Butler, one frying pan and two bodyguards."
His phoenix eyes slid toward his lawless brat.
He added, "Make that four bodyguards."
Bo Yiming stood on the sofa, looking down at his sickly little dad:
"Little Dad? You've got it wrong. I'm entering an idol competition, not getting into a fight. We don't need bodyguards!"
-
When Bo Yiming's big dad, Bo Tingyuan, came home,
four six-foot-three bodyguards were pinning down his son's arms and legs in the mansion's living room.
His husband, Wen Cishu, who had always been in poor health, was swinging a frying pan at their son's bottom.
A sheen of sweat covered Wen Cishu's temples, and even the hand holding the frying pan was trembling.
Bo Yiming screamed for help. "Big Dad! Hurry! Little Dad's gone crazy! He's actually hitting me! He must have another son out there! Boohoo... Ow!"
He took another hit.
Bo Tingyuan strode over to support Wen Cishu, asking gently in his deep, resonant voice, "Why are you so upset?"
Thinking he had been saved, Bo Yiming hurried to spring up.
Instead, Bo Tingyuan coldly ordered, "Keep the young master pinned down."
He first helped his husband sit on the sofa and held up a glass of water for him to drink. Then he walked over to their son, towering over him as he took off his suit jacket, picked up the frying pan, and swung-
"Aaaaaaaaaaah-!"
-
In the end, Bo Yiming got his wish and entered the entertainment industry.
But not through the idol competition he had dreamed of.
Instead, it was
a wealthy-family
parent-child makeover show.
Bo Yiming's imagined
entertainment career:
reveal his identity as a tycoon's son, move his feet and dance a little, throw in a wink now and then,
and fans would flock to him, loving him to death.
Bo Yiming's actual entertainment career:
being ordered around by Little Dad on the show, farming, weeding, and spraying pesticides.
Fans in the bullet comments: Aaaaaah, how is Wen Cishu so gorgeous? Bo Yiming, get out of the way and go transplant rice seedlings! Stop blocking my view of your little dad!
Bo Yiming: "Where are this young master's textbooks? This young master is determined to get into Tsinghua or Peking University!"
-
Wen Cishu had always believed that Bo Tingyuan had married him out of obligation because of the previous generation's entanglements, leaving him heartsick.
Only after awakening did he learn that his gong, who treated him with icy courtesy, had actually loved him deeply all along.
They had slept in separate beds for years because Bo Tingyuan thought his health was too poor.
He never discussed work because he feared it would upset him.
Those hopelessly tacky red roses on every holiday had not been ordered by an assistant. He had picked them himself.
Wen Cishu: "If you're not going to use your mouth, donate it!"
-
A classical, long-haired, sickly beauty shou VS a Chinese-French, daddy-type gong (five years older).
Also titled "With a Silly Little Dad and a Fierce Big Dad, How Am I Supposed to Live Like This~"
"Without the Kid, This Family Would Definitely Fall Apart"
[Notice: Paid chapters begin Wednesday at midnight.]
Content tags: wealthy families
Sweet romance
Growth
Lighthearted
Healing
Main characters: Wen Cishu, Bo Tingyuan. Supporting character: Bo Yiming.
One-line summary: Long-haired, sickly beauty shou / Chinese-French, daddy-type gong.
Theme: Love means "being seen."
Chapter 1
[What kind of decent people could raise a scumbag like Bo Yiming, who takes what he wants by force and stops at nothing?]
[Bo Yiming was born rotten. His parents brought him into the world without raising him properly. That's irresponsible toward all of society!]
On the bed, a handsome young man with long hair lay with his eyes tightly shut. His eyes moved rapidly beneath his thin eyelids, and what looked like tears dampened their corners.
He parted his dry, stiff lips and murmured an explanation to the voices in his head. "No, Yiming... he wasn't born rotten..."
His voice, worn by prolonged illness, was as rough and hoarse as saw teeth scraping wood.
Auntie Zhong was just entering the room. At the sight, she hurried over, taking Wen Cishu's arm and nudging him gently. "Second Young Master?"
Wen Cishu abruptly felt himself plummet, as though weightless, and his eyes flew open. Still shaken, his chest heaved.
His ink-black hair, smooth as silk satin, spilled from his shoulders onto the Chinese-style daybed, hanging precariously over its edge.
His congenital heart condition left him unable to withstand intense emotions, and his face was deathly pale.
Auntie Zhong stroked his chest through the thin blanket, urging earnestly, "Second Young Master, don't fret. Don't panic."
Wen Cishu's breathing gradually steadied.
Traces of the nightmare still rippled through his narrow phoenix eyes, which held a distinctly classical Eastern elegance.
He made out Auntie Zhong's face and pressed his pale, bloodless lips tightly together.
He could hardly explain how terrifying a dream he had just had.
In the dream, Bo Yiming, the child he had with his husband, Bo Tingyuan, was a wickedly alluring, obsessive villain in a melodramatic wife-chasing crematorium novel.
Their boundless indulgence had made Bo Yiming willful, reckless, and stubborn.
In his twenties, Bo Yiming treated the protagonist shou as his white moonlight's
substitute
and was a scum gong who tormented the protagonist shou over and over.
At the story's end, Bo Yiming was defeated by the protagonist gong who appeared out of nowhere, ultimately losing his standing and reputation.
As his family, Wen Cishu had died of a heart attack when Bo Yiming was twelve.
Now, he breathed heavily, his heart pounding like a drum as it sent blood throughout his body.
His bloodless joints gradually recovered, and the haze pressing on his chest seemed to lift a little.
His mind was as clear and pristine as glass washed clean by water.
Wen Cishu asked, "Auntie Zhong, how old... is Yiming this year?"
"Nine."
Auntie Zhong was startled. Hadn't they just thrown a lively birthday celebration for the little young master?
Hearing this, Wen Cishu lowered his eyelids slightly. I hope there's still time.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Auntie Zhong?"
The knocking came with a tentative call.
A young housekeeper from the Bo family peeked inside.
Wen Cishu looked toward the bedroom door in the distance.
Meeting Mr. Wen's gaze, the young housekeeper quickly lowered her head.
Since joining the Bo family, she had never set foot in this bedroom, which seemed like forbidden ground.
The lines of the bedroom's Chinese-style decor resembled a classical picture frame, setting off the long-haired beauty reclining on the daybed like some bewitching spirit.
There was a saying that hair grew by feeding on a person's blood and vital energy.
For someone as sickly as Mr. Wen to have longer hair that was thicker and blacker than most people's was rare indeed.
Beside the daybed, Auntie Zhong bent over and carefully pulled up the thin blanket.
"Second Young Master, lie back. I'll go see."
Wen Cishu gazed at that somewhat unfamiliar face from afar and asked in a faint voice, "What happened? Tell me."
Everyone in the Bo family put Wen Cishu's health first. No troublesome little matters were ever allowed to reach his ears.
Naturally, the young housekeeper did not dare speak either. She merely looked at Auntie Zhong awkwardly, leaving the decision to her.
Auntie Zhong had watched Wen Cishu grow up and treasured him like the apple of her eye.
"It must be some household matter downstairs. I'll handle it. Just rest, Second Young Master."
Wen Cishu's breathing was weak, but his attitude was unusually firm. "Auntie Zhong, I want to know."
Auntie Zhong could only beckon.
The young housekeeper glanced at their stunning but sickly employer and reluctantly explained, "It's the little young master... he's saying he wants to enter some idol competition..."
"Cough, cough..."
Before she could finish, Wen Cishu began coughing uncontrollably. His heart pounded violently, as though it would leap out of his chest.
Those two phrases from the dream, "brought him into the world without raising him properly" and "born rotten," turned his blood cold.
The sight nearly frightened the young housekeeper out of her wits. "Sir, please don't get upset."
Everyone in the Bo family addressed Wen Cishu as "sir."
After several bouts of coughing, an unexpected hint of color had returned to Wen Cishu's face. His eyes were moist, as though steeped in clear spring water. He lifted the blanket. "I'll go take a look."
Before Auntie Zhong could object, he took her forearm and spoke softly in her native dialect.
"Auntie Zhong, it's all right. Don't worry."
Auntie Zhong said no more and carefully helped the second young master up.
Quick to act, the young housekeeper picked up the thin blanket, rose onto her toes, and gently draped it over Mr. Wen's shoulders.
Wen Cishu raised a hand to draw it closer. "Thank you."
With her eyes lowered, the young housekeeper felt exceptionally pleased to hear his warm, gentle voice.
Auntie Zhong gathered the spill of long black hair behind him before helping him walk slowly out.
Just then, a racket of shrill yelling came from the living room downstairs.
As Wen Cishu walked slowly along, he made out the sounds and could not help frowning. He quickened his steps toward the corridor overlooking the living room.
In the lavishly classical living room, a little monkey was leaping up and down along the Chinese-style sofas arranged in a square.
Holding a black remote control like a microphone, he rapped as though chanting incantations, energetically producing an endless stream of noise.
And this lively "monkey concert" even had three whole rows of spectators:
the household's butler, housekeepers, drivers, and bodyguards.
That wildly energetic monkey, shrieking and bouncing around, was none other than the book's future obsessive villain, Bo Yiming.
Watching the little brat look so immensely pleased with himself, Wen Cishu gripped the railing tightly.
His heart began to ache dully again.
The original author only had to wave a hand and designate so-and-so as the villain;
as the villain's parent, he truly had far too much to consider.
Wen Cishu slowly entered the antique elevator at the end of the corridor.
The elevator descended slowly.
The slanting afternoon sunlight passed through the black wrought-iron latticework, casting uneven shadows across Wen Cishu's flawless, white-jade face.