The Abused Villain is Always Obsessed with Me - Chapter 1

The afterglow of the setting sun painted half the sky in hues of crimson and gold. The laughter of children playing by the roadside startled a flock of birds, their wings beating as they soared across the twilight horizon.

The school bell rang like a pebble dropped into a still lake, instantly shattering the classroom’s quiet. The rustle of papers and the scraping of chair legs against the marble floor filled the air.

The boy in the last row by the window silently stood up. He quickly packed his belongings, zipped up his worn black backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and strode out of the classroom through the back door.

“He’s leaving so early again today?”

“He’s a top student, always rushing home to study.”

“Creepy. Doesn’t he ever get tired?”

His quickened pace left the fragmented chatter of his classmates behind. The boy’s expression remained blank, his eyes—half-hidden beneath long bangs—fixed straight ahead, unwavering.

Today wasn’t his lucky day. Three consecutive red lights had brought the intersection to a standstill, making it nearly impossible to navigate the crowd even on foot.

Having finally managed to break free from the crowd, Lu Cang glanced up at the sun, which had already begun its descent in the west. He pressed his lips together and quickened his pace.

The gate arm at the entrance of the residential complex had been damaged by a drunk driver recently and remained unrepaired for days, bent grotesquely in mid-air, clearly serving no purpose.

The trash bins downstairs were overflowing, and the surrounding ground was damp with some unknown liquid, emitting a pungent, acrid odor that stung the nostrils.

The youth bounded up the moldy stairwell, taking three steps at a time. The concrete edges of the steps had long been worn smooth by countless shoes, making them dangerously slippery.

The narrow windows in the stairwell barely let in any light. If he were any later, he would have to struggle up the stairs in the dark under the flickering, broken motion-sensor lights.

Standing before the door, Lu Cang stared at the doorknob, his pale face expressionless. He pressed his chapped lips together again, then, as if steeling his resolve, he retrieved the key from his backpack’s inner pocket and inserted it into the lock.

The door swung open, and he stepped half a foot onto the floor inside.

The next moment, something flew toward him and exploded near his ear.

The deafening noise startled the boy, causing him to freeze in place, his body trembling.

When he regained his senses, he lowered his head and recognized the shattered glass on the floor as the remains of an empty beer bottle.

“Coming home this late? It seems you’ve forgotten whose house this is.”

The man spoke lazily from the sofa, withdrawing the hand that had thrown the bottle. He propped his chin on his hand with deliberate slowness, his phoenix eyes narrowed behind his glasses as he fixed his gaze on the boy.

The corners of his lips curled upward in what seemed like a smile, yet Lu Cang felt an icy chill crawl up his spine.

Lu Cang lowered his head and apologized in a low voice.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

After speaking, he set his backpack aside, picked up a broom from his right, and swept the broken glass into the living room trash can. As he worked, he glanced up at the doorframe where the bottle had struck.

A glaring dent marked the spot. If it had hit his temple…

Lu Cang’s hand froze momentarily before he quickly masked the reaction. He lowered his head again, his bangs completely obscuring his eyes, revealing only the faint flutter of his delicate eyelashes, betraying no emotion.

After swiftly finishing his task, Lu Cang walked into the kitchen without looking back. In the cramped space, barely large enough to turn around in, he expertly lit the stove and began preparing dinner for the man with practiced efficiency.

Your aim was terrible, Host.

The cold, emotionless mechanical voice echoed in his ear. The man sitting on the sofa chuckled softly.

“If I’d actually hit him, how would the mission continue?”

The man wore thin silver-rimmed glasses, his phoenix eyes tilting upward at the corners. A perfectly placed beauty mark beneath his right eye accentuated the amorous quality of his gaze.

Detected increase in target’s hatred value: current value 38.3%.

The System’s notification chimed in. Feng Hechi’s gaze drifted toward the figure busying himself in the kitchen, his back turned. He recalled the youth’s seemingly indifferent expression from moments ago.

Still young, yet already capable of concealing his emotions so completely—a true villainous trait.

This was Feng Hechi’s second month in this world.

The original owner of this world had started drifting aimlessly after graduating high school, indulging in hedonistic pursuits and neglecting all serious endeavors. His life revolved solely around alcohol and women.

After becoming involved with Lu Cang’s mother, he became even more of a freeloader, relying entirely on her meager wages to support the three of them. Less than two years after moving in with him, she died from overwork.

Following her death, the original owner squandered the modest compensation he received, indulging in even greater extravagance.

He nominally adopted Lu Cang as his stepson but treated him like a personal servant, forcing him to do laundry, cook meals, and fetch drinks. Physical punishment and verbal abuse were commonplace.

Lu Cang’s mother had died a year prior, and since then, the original owner’s treatment of Lu Cang had steadily deteriorated. He saw the boy as a burden, constantly ordering him around and never showing him any kindness.

When Feng Hechi arrived in this world, he naturally continued the original owner’s treatment of Lu Cang. To further his mission, he even added his own cruel twists.

At this rate, if things continue smoothly, Host will soon be able to return to his own world.

Hearing this, Feng Hechi leaned back against the sofa, his expression unchanged, and said calmly, “Is that so? I’m truly looking forward to it.”

His voice remained as still as a deep well, betraying no hint of genuine anticipation.

Feng Hechi was the eldest son of the Feng Family.

Most of the family conglomerate’s affairs had already been entrusted to him. His aging father retained only the nominal title of Chairman, with actual decision-making power resting almost entirely in Feng Hechi’s hands.

By a cruel twist of fate, he had inherited a congenital heart condition from his frail mother. From birth, his life had been as precarious as a floating duckweed on a lake, threatening to sink at any moment.

To complicate matters further, his father’s second wife had given birth to a younger brother, seven years his junior.

Should anything happen to Feng Hechi, his father would have no heir, and the family fortune would naturally fall to his stepmother and her son.

In public, his stepmother greeted him with smiles and feigned compliance, but behind his back, she repeatedly resorted to petty, underhanded tactics. Feng Hechi had never taken her seriously, yet he remained constantly vigilant about his health.

His arrival in this world was the result of a rare lapse in his otherwise meticulous management.

The conglomerate’s recent acquisition was crucial to the Feng Family’s future development, and Feng Hechi didn’t trust his subordinates to handle it properly. However, the sudden surge in workload forced him to work himself to exhaustion for several days.

Exhaustion triggered a dormant illness within Feng Hechi’s body, causing his heart to clench with agonizing pain, making it nearly impossible to breathe. The fast-acting medication he usually kept in his office drawer was nowhere to be found.

When Feng Hechi opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was this dilapidated rental apartment.

Mission Objective: Before the target graduates from high school, increase their hatred value to 100%.

Mission Deadline: Four years.

The cold, mechanical male voice in his ear recited the world’s background with rigid precision.

By completing the System’s assigned missions in different worlds, Feng Hechi had been promised that upon returning to the real world, his body would be restored to full health.

No more living on thin ice, constantly fearing that the fragile heart in his chest might stop beating at any moment. A completely normal, healthy body—one capable of seizing all the wealth and power in his family.

Feng Hechi had no reason to refuse.

Lu Cang emerged with a bowl brimming with food, glancing over to see Feng Hechi idly flipping through a magazine on the coffee table.

Feng Hechi sat cross-legged, lounging deep in the sofa, his slender fingers casually pinching a page. His eyes were lowered, the silver frames of his glasses reflecting the light from the chandelier.

For a moment, Lu Cang felt disoriented, as if Feng Hechi should be in a lavishly decorated corporate office downtown, not wasting away in this dilapidated, cheap rental apartment.

Setting the bowl on the table, Lu Cang shook his head vigorously, banishing the strange feeling from his mind.

He couldn’t pinpoint when it had started—perhaps last month—but whenever he stared at Feng Hechi, these peculiar thoughts would surface.

He always felt that Feng Hechi seemed different somehow, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.

Perhaps it was his aura?

As Lu Cang pondered this, he glanced over again, just as Feng Hechi looked up, their eyes meeting squarely.

Startled, Lu Cang quickly averted his gaze, catching a glimpse of the magazine’s contents in his peripheral vision.

The pages of the magazine were yellowed and curled at the edges, and the photos of women on the cover looked dated. Though the text was too blurry to read, it was likely one of those trashy, vapid romance magazines from years ago.

Lu Cang pressed his lips into a thin line, lowering his head so his bangs, which hung past his eyebrows, obscured his eyes.

It was just my imagination after all, he thought. How could this vulgar, disgusting man possibly be any different?

Noticing the gaze that had been fixed on him shift away, Feng Hechi lazily closed the magazine—an old issue belonging to the original owner, which he’d found tucked under the bed.

If I’m playing a role, I might as well do it properly.

When Feng Hechi began walking toward him, Lu Cang instinctively took a half-step back, standing by the table. Only after Feng Hechi sat down did he cautiously take his seat across from him.

Of the three dishes on the table, the two meat dishes were placed in front of Feng Hechi. Lu Cang kept his head down, using his chopsticks to pick at the cabbage in front of him.

The meat dishes were the cheapest chicken, bought by Lu Cang at the market after school each day. The vendors knew him well and often whispered behind his back about the poor, neglected child, so they always set aside the cheapest cuts of meat for him in advance.

Feng Hechi picked up a piece of meat with his chopsticks and put it in his mouth. Suddenly, he set the chopsticks down and said casually, “Do we have a lot of salt left at home?”

Lu Cang trembled, understanding Feng Hechi’s unspoken criticism that the dish was too salty. He lowered his head. “No.”

He had only dared to use a pinch of salt while cooking and had even tasted the dish before serving it to ensure the saltiness was just right.

“I’ll remake it right away,” Lu Cang said, lowering his head as he stood up and reached for the bowl.

“I’m not eating it.”

Feng Hechi put down his chopsticks, his voice still flat and indifferent, just as it had been when he smashed the wine bottle earlier that afternoon without a flicker of emotion. He didn’t even spare Lu Cang a glance.

He withdrew his hand, pulled a tissue from the box, dabbed his mouth, and then carefully wiped his fingers with another tissue.

Finally, he looked up at Lu Cang, his voice icy.

“Useless thing.”

Lu Cang stood motionless, his hands clenching into fists under the table, so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He struggled to restrain himself, barely managing to keep his teeth from grinding audibly.

Detected increase in hatred value. Current target hatred value: 39.7%

Feng Hechi stood up, not giving Lu Cang another glance.

“Wait!” Lu Cang suddenly called out, his voice low but tinged with urgency.

Feng Hechi turned back, glancing at him without a word.

Meeting those narrow, phoenix-shaped eyes, Lu Cang’s breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded harder, and his throat felt constricted. After several attempts, he finally managed to speak in a low voice.

“The teacher announced we need to pay for the final round of review materials. They said it’s for practice exams.”

The man remained silent, his icy gaze fixed on Lu Cang. The words seemed to choke in Lu Cang’s throat. He clenched his jaw, forcing out the remaining words.

“The teacher said it’s 350 yuan. I can’t quite make up the difference with the money I saved from groceries…”

Before he could finish, Feng Hechi interrupted him coldly, his eyes devoid of warmth as they bored into Lu Cang.

“This is the second time you’ve made a mistake today.”

At these words, Lu Cang’s already pale face turned deathly white. His lips lost all color, his eyelashes trembled, and he involuntarily took a step back.

“The first time was wasting the money I gave you to make such inedible food.”

Lu Cang’s fingers clenched at his side, his breathing quickening. Feng Hechi watched his reaction coldly, showing no intention of relenting.

“The second time was daring to make demands of me after just making a mistake.”

“I’m sorry,” Lu Cang whispered, his head bowed, his gaze fixed on the floor. Despite the explanations he wanted to offer, he didn’t dare utter another word.

“You know what to do, don’t you?”

Feng Hechi showed no sign of letting him off the hook. He leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his indifferent gaze fixed on Lu Cang.

Towering over him by more than a head, Feng Hechi looked down with a condescending air, his lowered eyelids conveying an almost contemptuous disdain.

Lu Cang stood with his head bowed, his hands hanging at his sides. His knuckles were pale from clenching his fists too tightly, his fingernails digging deep into his palms, leaving clear indentations.

He exhaled softly, his breath trembling with suppressed emotion. The shadows cast by his long lashes concealed the turmoil in his eyes. Forcing a weak smile, he replied softly.

“I understand.”