Goddess, Are You Blind? (GL) - Chapter 1

“Ah Nian, just sit still. If you need anything, tell me—I’ll handle it.” Ji Yun called out.

She saw Xue Funian, who had been about to stand up and grope along the table, pause mid-movement. Funian tugged at her cracked lips, then obediently sat back down.

Heart aching, Ji Yun hurried over, poured a glass of water, and gently placed it in Funian’s hand.

Funian lifted her head and gave Ji Yun a faint smile. Her gaze was empty, but if one didn’t look too closely, she was still that same heiress from years ago—the young lady most men in China had once dreamed of marrying: beautiful, intelligent.

But the accident had come too suddenly. Her parents had died in it, and when Funian woke, all she could see was endless darkness.

The stock price of “Rejiang Real Estate” had plummeted in recent days, dropping beyond anyone’s expectations. The board of directors gathered to discuss how to split up Xue Yu’s shares.

At that very moment, Ji Yun entered the meeting room, supporting Funian. The instant everyone saw her like this, the room fell silent.

All eyes shifted to the girl who had once shone so brightly. Even now, blind, she radiated a calm, graceful beauty. Sightless eyes could not dim it.

Funian sat down, smiled faintly, and though she could not see the faces around her, there was no trace of fear in her expression.

“My father transferred all the shares to my name.”

At those words, the room erupted. Everyone knew Xue Yu had held the largest number of shares—enough that, with just a little more, he could have bought out the entire company.

Whispers flew. No one cared if Funian saw or heard—after all, she could not see.

“But this company was built by my father’s hard work. I will not sell the shares.”

If her first statement had thrown the room into chaos, this second one extinguished it instantly. Shock rippled through the board as they stared at the twenty-five-year-old girl.

Even Ji Yun hadn’t expected Funian to ask her to bring her here just to say those words.

Remembering how calmly and firmly Funian had spoken them, Ji Yun almost laughed.

Clearly she was afraid—standing alone on the front line against these seasoned old foxes, clutching her father’s legacy—but still, she held on.

“The doctor says you can be discharged, but you still need proper care. I’m free these days, so I’ll look after you. Once we find a good caretaker, I’ll return to work.”

Ji Yun patted her hand reassuringly.

Funian lifted her head, still holding the cold glass of water Ji Yun had placed in her palm. The chill seeped into her fingers, like winter frost, even though outside it was blazing summer.

Seeing her dazed look, Ji Yun sighed. She didn’t press further. She understood what Funian feared—that kindness was just a prelude to forcing her to sell the shares.

Though Ji Yun was part of Rejiang too, at twenty-seven she was far from qualified to vie for the chairman’s seat. Even reaching her current role as general manager had taken backbreaking work.

That Funian guarded herself against her was only natural.

Funian waited, thinking Ji Yun would say more. But when she stayed silent, Funian smiled faintly, reached out, and tugged the corner of her sleeve.

“Sister Yun, don’t worry about me. I can manage.”

“Manage? What exactly can you manage? Who was it that hid under her blanket crying when she first realized she was blind—crying so much she almost ruined her eyes again?” Ji Yun pinched her cheek lightly. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you for now.”

“But—”

“What do you want to eat? I’ll go downstairs and buy the ingredients to cook for you.”

Funian opened her mouth, but before she could speak, her stomach growled. Embarrassed, she lowered her head, only for Ji Yun to laugh.

Ji Yun rarely cooked and wasn’t good at many dishes. In fact, she wasn’t used to this at all. But for Funian’s sake, she was determined to learn. She knew Funian feared her kindness was only for the sake of those juicy shares. It wasn’t, but Ji Yun didn’t need to prove it—she just needed to act.

“I downloaded some radio dramas for you. Listen while I buy groceries.” Ji Yun placed the remote control in Funian’s hand, adjusted the room’s temperature, and left.

Funian was living with her now. Ji Yun hadn’t trusted her to stay alone in the vast Xue family home, with its staircases and dangers. Better to keep her close, where she could watch over her.

Ji Yun still remembered the first time she met Funian—it was back when Xue Yu was alive. She had forgotten her house key after school, the maid was away, and her mother was traveling abroad. With nowhere else to go, she had gone to Rejiang’s offices to look for Chairman Xue.

Shy and hesitant, she asked where to find him. The receptionist, startled, asked if she had an appointment. She shook her head timidly, and the receptionist refused her entry.

Ji Yun had been a junior intern then, thanks to family connections—the only one in her class with such a placement. She was three years older than Funian, who was still a high school senior preparing for the grueling college entrance exam.

Funian was bright, disciplined, and despite her privileged background, she never flaunted it. She chose to take the exam like everyone else instead of studying abroad. Ji Yun knew all this because Funian had been her junior schoolmate.

She remembered seeing her years earlier—when Ji Yun was in her second year of high school, and Funian, a middle schooler, stood on stage as the student representative. Ji Yun had been waiting her turn to speak, but the moment she saw Funian, she forgot her own speech.

Funian’s eyes had sparkled under the stage lights, like stars scattered across the night sky, and Ji Yun had been transfixed.

By the time she came back to her senses, Funian was stepping down, smiling politely as she passed by. Ji Yun, flustered, had smiled back.

That was the last time she saw her before graduating. But the name “Xue Funian” carved itself into her heart, along with that luminous smile—like sunlight after rain.

So when she saw Funian again years later, those three syllables immediately struck her mind. With her family name and the familiar dimple on her right cheek, it was easy to connect her to Chairman Xue.

It had been Ji Yun who escorted her to see her father then, leaving both father and daughter with a lasting impression. And Xue Yu, noticing her diligence, had later given Ji Yun opportunities to rise quickly.

Now, after the Xue family’s tragedy, most people cared less about Funian’s fate than about how to seize Xue Yu’s shares. The corporate battles were as fierce and cutthroat as any palace intrigue.

Ji Yun, just a young general manager, had no thoughts of competing for those massive holdings. She had only wanted to repay Xue Yu’s kindness, so she brought gifts to visit Funian in the hospital.

Funian had been unconscious then, pale as the bedsheets, her face searing into Ji Yun’s mind. Ji Yun had returned home only to gather clothes and returned to stay by her side.

Day after day she sat by her bed, feeling an odd calmness, like sipping warm water on a hot afternoon. Not cold, not scalding—just right.

She stayed a week, until Funian finally stirred, waved her hand blindly in front of her face, sighed, and slipped back into sleep.

Though she hadn’t woken fully, she had sensed things—her parents’ deaths among them.

Ji Yun said nothing, only peeled fruit quietly and left it for her. Standing outside, she listened to the muffled sobs from within, sighed, and stared blankly at her phone, her thoughts far away.

Funian cried so hard she nearly damaged her eyes again. Ji Yun never confronted her, only accompanied her for another examination.

After that, Funian grew unnervingly calm. Too calm. She spent her days listening to music or to Ji Yun’s gentle chatter. Until, finally, she demanded discharge—because the company was in chaos, and she knew she had to step forward.

Her second appearance at the company left an impression. Few knew her face, but the aura she carried silenced doubts, making people forget her blindness.

Even now, Ji Yun marveled at the transformation—from the girl who wept under the covers to the woman who calmly faced down a boardroom.

That evening, Ji Yun selected fresh meat, a chicken, vegetables, fruit, and even some snacks before driving home.

Leaving Funian alone never sat well with her. Outwardly gentle, she was strong, but Ji Yun knew inside she must be terrified.

So she drove fast, hurried inside—and there she was, sitting exactly as she had left her, staring out the window, gaze empty, hands resting on her knees, lips pressed faintly downwards.