Seizing the Crown

Translator: Cinder Translations

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"There's still no news," the man's voice was deep and full, sounding strong, "We've already checked several psychiatric hospitals around Beijing for patients who have been discharged and rehabilitated in the past year, but we haven't found the person you mentioned."

"Expand the search area," the girl's brows furrowed with a hint of agitation, "And," she paused for a few seconds before adding, "That person is probably accompanied by a Fatty."

"A Fatty?" the man replied, then seemed to realize something, giving a bitter laugh, "That's not exactly something unusual; there are fat people everywhere."

"But this Fatty is different," the girl recalled the remarkable coordination of the Fatty's body that seemed disproportionate to his size. She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and finally said, "This Fatty is particularly agile. Pay attention to him."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before the man half-heartedly responded.

He couldn't understand why a mere Fatty could be so agile.

The girl hung up the phone.

The spacious bedroom instantly became quiet again.

She casually tied her messy hair into a simple ponytail, jumped off the bed, and walked barefoot to the large floor-to-ceiling window.

With a swift motion, she pulled open the pale curtains, and the afternoon sunlight bathed her face.

She squinted slightly and gazed out the window.

She was wearing only a thin wine-red nightgown, her pale skin almost translucent. Just as someone had described, her body wasn't particularly shapely.

Standing here, she didn't worry about being seen because in front of her was only a deep blue lake.

A few minutes later, feeling fully awake, she slowly shifted her gaze. About two meters away, there was an easel, and the wooden floor was covered with an entire animal skin.

On the easel was a sketch.

It was a simple yet precise drawing of a young man.

The artist's skill was evident in the sharpness of the lines, as if sculpting with just a few strokes, the man's essence came to life on the paper.

His features were impeccable, the type that would be adored by wealthy women.

The girl leaned against the window, her face to the light, tilting her head to gaze at the drawing for a long time until her expression gradually turned cold. "Mr. Yin, you better hide well."

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"Achoo!"

"Achoo!"

The market was bustling with people.

The Fatty was walking around with a basket, touching things here and there.

Up to this point, he had sneezed no less than 20 times.

Some vendors, seeing the Fatty approach, instinctively put on masks.

The vendors were truly frightening, as once the Fatty had passed, they all simultaneously removed their masks and started loudly promoting their goods.

After browsing a while, the Fatty bought some shellfish and small seafood to make spicy stir-fried mixed shellfish, then went to his usual spot to buy a fish.

The fish-buying experience went smoothly this time. The owner, recognizing him, didn't hesitate and immediately pulled out a half-dead fish, saying, "This one's good. Don't wait for it to die; I'll sell it to you as is."

The Fatty, too shy to decline, hesitated, "It's fine," he licked his lips and looked at the owner, "I can wait."

"Don't bother. It's gonna die soon anyway," the owner said as he packaged the fish, weighed it, and handed it to the Fatty. "It's just a fish, it doesn't deserve all this."

"Then, thank you, boss."

"Come again after eating well."

The Fatty carried a basket of vegetables in his left hand and the fish and shellfish in his right, along with pre-cut pork ribs from the shopkeeper, heading back to the studio.

Just him and the doctor—this was already enough for a hearty meal.

As the evening sun set, he had been out for a long time. It wasn't the distance that was tiring, but the lack of reasonable vendors at the market.

Some wouldn't negotiate prices, and others wouldn't let you pick and choose.

There was even a shop that didn't accept fake money.

The Fatty carefully gripped the fake 10 yuan bill given to him by Jiang Cheng, planning to find a place to discard it to prevent it from circulating.

Turning a corner, he realized he was almost back at the studio.

Before he reached the door, a sports car passed him by, then slowly reversed and parked steadily in front of the studio.

Seeing this, the Fatty immediately jogged over and shouted, "This is a private parking spot, no parking allowed! Please find somewhere else!"

Since the Fatty had arrived, he had never seen a car park here.

Even temporarily, it wasn't allowed.

Every time Pi Ruan came, he would take a long time to find a parking spot, or his assistant would drive around the area.

It was the rule.

It was something the doctor had told him, probably set by the doctor himself.

Recently, the doctor had too much on his plate, so he didn't have the energy to think much about it. But anyway, the doctor said so, so it must be followed. No one was allowed to park here.

The Fatty frowned, but it seemed the driver wasn't going to give him face. After parking the car, the scissor door lifted, and the next moment, the Fatty's pupils trembled.

He saw a woman step out of the car.

Not just any woman, but a woman that made the Fatty search his vocabulary from kindergarten through middle school, trying to find words to describe her, but he ultimately gave up.

"Holy shit!" the Fatty blurted out.

The woman was wearing a light-colored cheongsam, her eyebrows like ink, and her body was perfectly shaped under the cheongsam—neither too much nor too little, just right. Her hand, holding the car key, was as smooth as a lotus root, drawing beautiful arcs in the air.

Her long hair was casually pinned up in a bun, with a Lo Yun pin placed perfectly in her hair, adding a touch of irresistible beauty to her look.

A faint fragrance lingered in the air, and the Fatty felt like he had been transported to ancient times, into a luxurious palace.

The woman's beauty was beyond words, and she had no trace of charm, but the Fatty couldn't help but imagine how mesmerizing her smile would be.

It would probably steal one's heart.

At this moment, she walked past him with an indifferent expression, her gaze neither too sharp nor too dim. She completely ignored the Fatty standing there and casually walked up the stairs to the studio door. Without knocking, she just entered as if she were at her own home.

She pushed the door open casually, as if it were her own house.

(End of the Chapter)

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Translated 4 Series, 1.5K+ Chapters and 1.78M+ Words.