Deeply Affectionate Male Supporting Character Topped the Protagonist 33

Chapter 33: Because I’m Sick

The image of the young man in his dream was shrouded in a mysterious mist, accompanied by the sound of rain.

The closer he got, the thicker the mist became, obscuring his vision.

And there was one thing that truly bothered Min Zhi.

That scar Xi Leng forbade him from looking at, yet showed no intention of hiding from Rong Xingyi.

By extension, Rong Xingyi could see it, but he couldn’t.

The distinction between close and distant was clear.

Was being an idol this frustrating?

Min Zhi was plagued by days of self-doubt.

As for asking directly, he had some reservations as an idol. After all, the little fan worshipped him like a Greek god of handsome men. How could a god ask, “Are you involved with a minor?” Besides, asking wouldn’t change what had already happened.

He happened to be quite busy recently, leaving every day, either going to the company or for work. Preoccupied, the frequency of his trips to the trash disposal and grocery shopping also increased noticeably, but it wasn’t until a week later that he encountered the two next door again.

“Help! Help! Help me… aaaaah!!! Let me out…”

Two apartments per floor, the soundproofing was excellent, but it couldn’t block the frantic banging and shouting.

If the property management came, they might actually call the police.

Min Zhi arrived at his neighbor’s door and discovered a crucial reason for the soundproofing failure, the tightly sealed security door was open a crack.

Just a crack, because there was a security chain on the door—the kind used in hotels, but unusually placed on the outside. Not to prevent people from entering, but to prevent people from leaving.

The gap was only wide enough for two fingers, and the teenager was desperately trying to reach the security chain, but always falling short.

If only someone would be kind enough to help, he could get out!

“Help! Is anyone there—ah?”

Rong Xingyi’s voice stopped abruptly.

His bright peach blossom eyes widened in the gap, staring at the radiant idol who appeared out of nowhere.

“Min Zhi-gege!” Rong Xingyi was overjoyed.

Oblivious, he looked at those cold, dark eyes and pleaded softly.

“Please open the door for me.”

Min Zhi didn’t move, asking first: “Xi Leng locked you in?”

Xi Leng, with his indifferent and aloof demeanor, was doing unexpectedly tyrannical things, it was just that the person being locked up wasn’t to his liking.

Rong Xingyi thought he had found understanding, and the other person was his idol, he couldn’t be happier, immediately confessing everything: “Yes, he did it! He also took my phone! Who knows where he went, I can’t even contact him…”

But Min Zhi remained unmoved.

Rong Xingyi continued his efforts through the door: “Min Zhi-gege, do you really live next door to us? I haven’t seen you these past few days. I have classes during the day, I only come back at night.”

Min Zhi’s attitude was slightly perfunctory: “I’ve been busy recently.”

“Oh, oh.” Rong Xingyi didn’t mind his indifference, looking at him expectantly. “Min Zhi-gege, can you do me a favor and remove the security chain?”

Thinking that since Xi Leng and Min Zhi were on the same show now, Min Zhi might not agree, Rong Xingyi added: “He also confiscated my phone, I can’t contact him… If you’re not busy, do you want to come in and sit for a while?”

Min Zhi was moved by something, he stepped forward, hooked his fingers around the chain, and freed the prisoner.

After regaining his freedom, Rong Xingyi, unexpectedly, stood still in the doorway, looking a bit lost.

Min Zhi frowned, seeing his lost and aimless demeanor, looked out the empty doorway, then bit his finger. The teenager’s insecurity was written all over his face.

A three-year-old left home alone by their parents would probably be like this, but this kid wasn’t that young, such severe separation anxiety was unusual. This thought was fleeting because Min Zhi had a more pressing question: “Where’s Xi Leng? He’s not home?”

“He said he went to deliver a painting, didn’t tell me where, said he’d be back before noon.” Rong Xingyi looked up at the clock and pouted. “It’s already eleven-thirty! I knew he…”

He stopped abruptly, changing the subject awkwardly.

“Right, Min Zhi-gege, are you coming in? He’s not back yet, he lied to me again… I’m starving. Should we order takeout? I want to eat…”

After ordering takeout, Rong Xingyi kept looking at the clock while they waited, growing increasingly anxious, muttering that Xi Leng must have run away again, pacing back and forth, trying to distract himself by finding things to do: “Right, Min Zhi-gege, have a seat, I’ll pour you a glass of water. Or a drink, do you want a drink?”

Min Zhi felt that, more than an idol, he was an anxiety-relief tool, any cat or dog could probably serve the same purpose.

Rong Xingyi’s anxiety made him frown slightly. He asked: “He said he’d be back, why are you so anxious?”

Rong Xingyi opened his mouth, then, after a long while, managed to utter: “I’m afraid something happened to him.”

“…” Min Zhi’s eyes narrowed, his sharp gaze silencing the other party. “Can’t you think something good of him?”

Rong Xingyi closed his mouth, finally calming down, sitting opposite him. Min Zhi’s gaze fixed on the loose white T-shirt the teenager was wearing.

A line of text across his chest.

Le sort je ne m’y soumets pas

Min Zhi frowned slightly and said: “Your clothes…”

“Oh, this?” Rong Xingyi said nonchalantly. “He only gave me three sets of clothes to change into, they’re all being washed, so I can only wear his.”

Min Zhi: “…”

The person at the center of this, completely oblivious, had just carefully crossed the street.

A week after accepting Sheng Jiao’s commission, Xi Leng carefully packed the finished oil painting and personally delivered it to the television station.

Sheng Jiao was surprised and delighted: “Your efficiency… I haven’t even paid you the deposit yet, and it’s already finished?”

“Mm-hmm, take a look first.” Xi Leng said. “If you need any changes, there’s still time.”

“No need, no need, I trust you…”

As Sheng Jiao looked at the painting, Xi Leng briefly introduced it: “This painting is called ‘Ophelia in the Woods.’”

The style and effect of this painting were different from what Sheng Jiao had imagined.

He had assumed that a portrait of two girls would probably be like those family portraits hanging in wealthy homes, proper, elegant, and dignified, but also stiff and formal, turning into lifeless, pale, and slightly creepy mannequins at night when the lights were off.

But the painting before him was a canvas filled with lush greenery.

Loose and soft brushstrokes, delicate color gradients, creating a dreamlike effect, a forest scene, dominated by dark green and yellowish-brown tones, towering trees reaching towards the sky, strong and powerful. The composition was symmetrical, sunlight filtering through the leaves, illuminating two small figures from behind in the center.

Two girls, one in a bright red dress, as vibrant as fire and blood; the other with long, flowing hair, free and unrestrained. They held hands, running forward, like spirits chasing freedom and beauty, blending seamlessly with the magical and dreamlike nature.

Stunning.

The moment he saw this painting, Sheng Jiao’s heart was filled with this word, speechless for a long time.

If this painting were hyped up, or attributed to a famous artist, or even just placed anonymously in a prestigious corner of a museum and sent to an auction house, it could easily fetch a six-figure price.

Not to mention the exponential increase in value of early works after Xi Leng became famous in the future…

So, investing in the art world also required skill!

He had just mocked Min Zhi in his mind, but now it seemed Min Zhi had made a killing, and he was the clown…

Initially, it was a member of the art department who suggested buying a few paintings for the set. He suddenly remembered that Xi Leng was a painter, but Xi Leng’s participation in the show was thanks to Min Zhi, so he asked Min Zhi first.

Min Zhi readily supported him commissioning Xi Leng, even providing the funds, generously allowing them to use Xi Leng’s paintings for filming free of charge, as long as the painting was delivered to him afterwards.

“Right, Sheng-dao,” Xi Leng asked, “can I post a photo of this painting on Weibo, as a showcase?”

Sheng Jiao, snapping back to reality, nodded: “Of course, posting it would also be promoting the show, we should even pay you a promotional fee.”

“No need.” Xi Leng smiled.

“Okay, I’ll transfer the full payment to you now.” Sheng Jiao said readily. “I forgot to tell you earlier, the budget for this is one hundred and thirty-six thousand.”

Xi Leng hesitantly repeated: “…One hundred and thirty-six thousand?”

This price far exceeded his expectations, and the coincidence in the novel world couldn’t be ignored, thirty-six thousand, exactly the amount he paid for a year’s rent.

Sheng Jiao also found the “thirty-six” at the end strange, but Min Zhi wouldn’t tell him the reason, so he could only make something up: “Mm-hmm, one hundred thousand for the painting, thirty-six thousand as a buyout fee.”

Xi Leng didn’t doubt him and nodded: “Okay. It was a pleasure working with you.”

He was humble but not subservient, accepting the large sum of money openly.

If he had declined, saying it was too much and he felt unworthy, Sheng Jiao might have changed his assessment of the painting.

And Xi Leng’s current attitude made him even more regretful. How could he let Min Zhi, who wasn’t short of money, take advantage of such a good deal?

“Oh right,” Sheng Jiao clutched his chest, calling out to Xi Leng who was about to leave. “Can I commission you privately next time? Or do you have other works you’d like to sell?”

“Yes, I have many.” Xi Leng said. “Then you can come to my studio next time when you’re free?”

“Okay, it’s a deal.”

The two bid each other farewell.

The midday sun was almost forty degrees Celsius. Xi Leng wasn’t particularly afraid of heat, but a thin layer of sweat had formed on his neck.

As soon as he entered the stairwell, Xi Leng removed his scarf, brushing back his slightly damp hair, feeling instantly refreshed.

In an apartment building with elevators, except during emergencies like power outages, he had never seen anyone else take the stairs like him.

The stairwell became his safe space.

With his neck exposed, he couldn’t help but reach up and touch it, from his prominent Adam’s apple to the raised scar, slowly tracing the ugly, twisted lines.

He always did this, repeatedly reminding himself of the nightmarish memories, the feeling of near death. Like picking at a hangnail even though he knew it would hurt and bleed, a strange, masochistic pleasure.

After climbing ten floors in one go, his breathing became rapid, his heart pounding in his chest, the thump, thump, thump echoing clearly in the stairwell.

An indescribable excitement, as if immersed in the flow state of painting, feeling neither tired nor hungry, forgetting about sleep and food, his mind occupied by a single thought.

For example.

He turned and emerged from the stairwell, glancing at Min Zhi’s door in the distance.

—Who did this? Who did this? Who did this?

Perhaps because he had been listening to Min Zhi’s songs day and night recently, Min Zhi’s voice replaced his usual chaotic auditory hallucinations, repeatedly echoing that angry question.

Why ask about something that had nothing to do with him? Was he going to help him get revenge?

Min Zhi certainly had the ability, but there was no need. If he was kind enough to help his fans solve their problems, he wouldn’t need to be on a variety show to improve his image. He had tens of millions of fans, if he helped each and every one of them, he would work himself to death.

Xi Leng didn’t want to tell him either.

But, who did this? Who did this? Who did this…

Those eyes, that voice from that rainy night, lingered in his mind, inescapable.

“…”

Xi Leng lowered his eyes, his expression still calm and composed.

I’m sick.

Xi Leng diagnosed himself.

Rubbing his chest, which felt strangely uncomfortable, he adjusted his breathing, his mind, previously buzzing like it was filled with seawater, finally calming down.

Reaching his door, he noticed that the security chain had been removed.

But Rong Xingyi’s phone was with him. Even if he could get out, he couldn’t go far.

He entered the password, a beep sounded, the lock unlocked, and he pressed the door handle.

He felt a resistance.

It was locked from the inside.

“Rong Xingyi.” Xi Leng applied more force, his voice deep as he gave the person inside an ultimatum. “Rong Xingyi, open the door.”

Two minutes ago, Rong Xingyi, having gotten Min Zhi’s phone, said he would call Xi Leng to urge him to come back, but he hesitated and didn’t call. Now that the person he was anxiously waiting for was back, he did a complete 180.

“Don’t open the door for him! Who told him to lock me in!?”

Min Zhi took back his phone, ignoring the childish and contradictory boy, standing up to greet the long-awaited person.

Rong Xingyi instantly became obedient, his arrogance vanishing as he instinctively hid behind Min Zhi.

Xi Leng’s face was stern, the words to lecture his brother already on his lips, when he unexpectedly ran into his neighbor, Min Zhi. Their eyes met, and they both froze.

At this moment, Rong Xingyi poked his head out and timidly called out: “…Ge.”

What?

Min Zhi turned his head, then turned back, looking at the two faces that didn’t share many similarities.

“…Ge?”