Su Yue’s long lashes trembled as she stared at the cold, emotionless man in front of her. His eyes were like deep, bottomless pools, and the chill that surged up her spine confirmed her instincts—he truly didn’t care whether she lived or died.
She pressed her lips together tightly. After finally coming face-to-face with him, Su Yue realized something: the indifference of Jiang Ci, the so-called male supporting character, was far more piercing than what had been described in the book.
In her mind, a piercing bell continued to ring in sharp, torturous bursts. The splitting pain made her delicate features twist in discomfort. She couldn’t wait any longer—if she did, she might just die from this unbearable agony.
With trembling limbs, she pushed herself upright, grabbing the handbag from the coffee table beside the sofa, and hurriedly made for the door.
Just as she reached the entryway, a small figure waddled inside awkwardly.
The little boy held a white, gray-eared cat in his tiny arms, swaying as he walked. His grip was so unsteady that Su Yue was certain the poor cat might be dropped any second.
“Hmph!”
As he passed her, the little boy wrinkled his nose and let out a cold snort before heading toward the table where Jiang Ci sat. Lifting his small head, he looked up at the man and greeted softly, “Dad, morning.”
Jiang Ci calmly popped the last piece of cake into his mouth and responded with a flat, “Mm.”
The little boy—Jiang Haoyan—gently set the cat down by his feet and trudged over to the wall. With some effort, he dragged a stool to the table and climbed onto it with his chubby little legs.
Only a bowl of fish porridge and a plate of bread remained. The child’s dark eyes darted around; when he didn’t see any cake, he pursed his lips and silently guessed that his father must’ve eaten it already. He stretched out his round hands, carefully pulled the porridge bowl in front of him, and lowered his head to eat in silence.
“Meow~” The cat curled up beside the stool, settling down lazily and quickly drifting into sleep.
A blind, disfigured man. A sharp-tongued little brat. A sleepy cat.
What a strange, almost comical trio.
But Su Yue didn’t have time to dwell on them. Right now, she had more pressing concerns—like surviving.
She had barely stepped over the threshold when she froze in place, eyes wide in disbelief.
The pain in her head… was gone.
The intense, blaring ring that tormented her just moments ago—gone without a trace.
What…?
She reached up to touch her injured forehead. There was still a swollen bump from where she’d hit it yesterday, after Jiang Muhang forced a random doctor to treat her. Logically, even a slight touch should hurt. Yet now, she felt nothing.
Stretching her limbs cautiously, Su Yue realized that even the pain from falling down the stairs had vanished.
Everything felt… normal. Too normal.
What was going on?
In stunned silence, her gaze shifted to Jiang Haoyan sitting beside Jiang Ci. The little boy, delicate and cute like a cherub sculpted from jade, noticed her staring. He frowned and shot her a fierce glare before returning to his porridge.
Was it… him?
Her pain had disappeared right after he showed up. Did he possess some kind of special ability?
Su Yue tried to recall details from the novel. The book focused mainly on the emotional journey between the male and female leads. Jiang Ci, as the cannon fodder, and his son, Jiang Haoyan, were hardly mentioned. She only remembered that neither had a happy ending. The little guy didn’t seem to have any unique traits in the original plot.
She bit her lip, her mind beginning to spiral again.
Suddenly—grrrowl—her stomach growled loudly.
She hadn’t eaten since last night. After being tormented all night and skipping breakfast, she was starving. Looking at the food on the table, and the boy still chewing silently, she hesitated only briefly before tossing her bag back onto the sofa and walking over.
Since the pain was gone, the hospital could wait. First, she needed food.
“This is mine!”
Just as she sat across from him and reached for a bun, Jiang Haoyan’s face tensed in displeasure. He glared at her, his tiny voice stern.
But Su Yue didn’t even pause. She casually picked up a custard bun, tore off a piece, popped it into her mouth, and smiled at the little guy. “What? Breakfast from the kitchen—can’t I eat it too?”
If that big iceberg Jiang Ci weren’t right there, she would’ve pinched the boy’s puffy little cheeks already.
She took another bite.
In the novel, after Jiang Ci died, the cannon fodder female’s life didn’t get much better. Once the male lead gained complete control over Hengyuan Group, he had ruthlessly retaliated against the female supporting character for constantly pestering him and targeting the heroine. Her family was bankrupted, and she was thrown into a mental asylum.
Su Yue’s lips tightened at the thought.
She didn’t care about the male lead. She didn’t even want to interfere in the main romance. But she did know one thing—she didn’t want to meet that kind of end. Jiang Ci could not die. As long as he was alive, even blind and disfigured, the male lead wouldn’t dare move against his “sister-in-law.”
Turning her head, Su Yue looked at Jiang Ci again. With the morning light pouring in through the windows, the deep scar along the left side of his face became even more jarring—ugly, cruel, unforgettable.
But Su Yue smiled faintly.
She didn’t mind.
“Your breakfast is in the hall. This is mine and Dad’s,” Jiang Haoyan muttered, pouting.
Su Yue wasn’t upset by the reminder. “I want to eat with you two today. Am I not welcome?” she said with a teasing grin.
Jiang Haoyan’s face turned beet red. Flustered, he ducked his head and resumed eating, not daring to respond.
This bad woman… She was different today.
Just the day before yesterday, she had poked his forehead and called him a wild brat, told him to scram, told him not to call her aunt.
His tiny hands tightened on the spoon. She had to be up to something. He wouldn’t be fooled.
Across from them, Jiang Ci remained indifferent, sipping lemonade and wiping his mouth before standing. His movements were calm and practiced—as if he weren’t blind at all. Without saying a word, he walked to the back study.
As soon as Jiang Haoyan saw his father leave, he glared fiercely at Su Yue again, then jumped off the chair, scooped up his cat, and muttered, “Cilantro, let’s go.”
And off he waddled, the fluffy cat dangling awkwardly from his arms.
Su Yue looked at the bun in her hand and sighed. Clearly, she wasn’t very popular here.
Outside, the early summer sun shone gently, and a cool breeze occasionally drifted past, brushing against her skin like a whisper.
But in front of the full-length mirror, Su Yue’s heart remained heavy.
In the book, the original Su Yue wasn’t beautiful—she existed only to contrast the heroine’s radiant kindness and charm. She was the textbook definition of a shallow, brainless cannon fodder. But still, Su Yue hadn’t expected the reality to sting so much.
She was still 1.68 meters tall, same as before. But now, her body looked bulky—not curvy and voluptuous, just plainly fat. Her skin was dull and dark, her face round and bloated. She looked… sturdy, coarse. Her features were completely unremarkable.
She frowned, frustrated. Her reflection only made her want to cry.
Before all this, she had been one of the most dazzling faces in the entertainment industry—a top-tier beauty. Just her face alone could win her roles. With her acting talent and her popularity rising, she had been poised to become the next film queen.
Then came the fire.
An accident on set. Flames. Burns so severe they disfigured her once-flawless face and ravaged her body. She had been stuck in a hospital ever since, undergoing endless treatment.
Bored and despondent, her assistant had brought her a novel—a silly sweet pet romance—to distract her. She never expected that the moment she opened her eyes again, she would find herself living inside that very story.
But maybe this wasn’t so bad.
Yes, her current body was fat and dark. But it was healthy. Whole. Alive.
With time and care, she could lose the weight, nourish her skin, and become beautiful again.
She smiled faintly to herself.
Under the warm sunlight, the garden flowers bloomed vibrantly.
Su Yue stepped outside the western-style building and was surprised to realize how far it was from the main villa. She now understood—this place was secluded, tucked deep in the back garden. According to the original owner’s memories, it was the old master of the Jiang family who had moved Jiang Ci here for peace and recovery.
Jiang Ci didn’t mind. But the original Su Yue had taken it as an exile—a humiliation. She couldn’t accept that Jiang Xuan had married the dashing Jiang Muhang, while she, Su Yue, was given to a blind and disfigured man and sent off to live in a remote corner.
The bitterness festered. She clung to fantasies about the male lead, constantly finding excuses to visit the villa and try to attract his attention.
Walking along a path flanked by flowers, Su Yue reached the front yard after a few minutes. In the atrium, a large fountain sparkled under the sun, the water glinting like silver threads.
The light stung her eyes, and she squinted.
At that moment, Jiang Muhang stepped out of the villa. His eyes landed on her—and instantly filled with disdain.
He paused as he passed her. “Su Yue, stop humiliating yourself. I’ll never be interested in you, no matter how many times you try to bump into me.”
His voice was cold, sharp.
Su Yue: “…”
Yes, she remembered now—the original owner used to linger near the fountain every morning. It was the only way in and out of the garden. She was desperate for a chance to see Jiang Muhang.
Facing his condescending glare, Su Yue furrowed her brows. “You’re overthinking it.”
Jiang Muhang, with his tall stature and elegant demeanor, truly was handsome—no wonder the original Su Yue was obsessed with him.
But Su Yue had seen too many handsome faces in the entertainment industry. This one, no matter how refined, couldn’t move her.
Jiang Muhang sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. If it weren’t for the fact that she was now Jiang Ci’s wife, he would’ve thrown her out long ago.
Su Yue simply turned away.
She wasn’t here to chase after anyone.
She was here to survive—and this time, she would rewrite her ending.