Transmigrated into the cannon fodder younger sister of the uke in a BL novel

As I stepped out of the hospital, the sunlight was perfect, shining brightly on the steps.

Wen Qing walked beside Wen Fan and glanced at him.

Wen Fan remained silent after leaving the consultation room, clearly lost in thought.

With a slight shift in her eyes, she suddenly smiled and spoke in a lighthearted tone.

"Brother, what if my heart condition heals on its own? Would I not need surgery anymore?"

Wen Fan snapped out of her thoughts and couldn't help but chuckle when she heard her words.

"How can it heal on its own? You don't have a cold; heart disease doesn't heal on its own."

"Why not?"

Wenqing retorted confidently, then cleared her throat and said.

"I had a dream last night. I dreamt that a Bodhisattva told me that I was a very kind person in my past life and accumulated a lot of merit. In this life, she can grant me one wish. I told her that I wanted a healthy body so that my brother wouldn't have to work so hard. Then the Bodhisattva said that as long as I continue to do good deeds and accumulate merit, this wish will be fulfilled."

Upon hearing this, Wen Fan's eyes crinkled, and she couldn't help but laugh out loud.

The smile was clearly genuine, and Wen Qing was momentarily stunned as she looked at it.

It seemed like she hadn't seen her brother smile like that in a very, very long time.

She wished that this carefree, utter happiness could stay on her brother's face forever.

Wen Fan reached out and ruffled her hair, then rubbed her head twice with his palm.

"It seems you were a very kind person in your past life, even the Bodhisattva appeared in your dream. I'll have to treat you well and make your dreams come true."

"Fine, don't believe me if you don't want to, but I'm telling the truth anyway."

Wenqing snapped out of her daze, snorted, and turned her head to the side.

Wen Fan looked at her, a smile still on his lips, but he didn't take her words seriously.

His sister's illness was a knot in his heart; no one in the world knew better than him what kind of life Wenqing should have had.

She used to be able to run, jump, and run 800 meters with her classmates in PE class, then complain about being too tired while panting.

She could have had a perfectly healthy body, without needing medication, regular check-ups, or carefully adding layers of clothing during seasonal changes for fear of catching a cold and triggering heart problems.

All of this was because back then in the alley, she lunged at the trafficker, bit his hand, and pushed him away to let him escape, while she herself was stabbed in the heart.

She was eight years old that year, and he was ten.

He still remembers his time in the orphanage.

Because he was abandoned, left at the orphanage gate without even having his umbilical cord cut properly, this was no secret among the children.

But people always use this to hurt him, saying things like, "Your parents don't want you anymore," or "You're an unwanted child."

He didn't speak then, and he didn't cry when someone pushed him down. He got up, dusted himself off, and sat down in a corner with his head down.

Nobody wanted to play with him, but Wenqing did.

She was two years younger than him at the time, shorter than him, and as thin as a bean sprout. But whenever someone bullied him, she would stand in front of him, put her hands on her hips, and shout at the boys who were taller than him, "If you bully him again, I will tell the dean."

She was the one who should be protected, yet she was always the one rushing to the front to protect him.

So when she woke up in the hospital and the doctor told her that she had suffered lasting damage to her heart, Wen Fan stood at the door of the ward, his heart instantly overwhelmed with guilt and self-blame.

So he vowed to cure her illness, no matter the cost.

Over the years, he has saved up a lot of money, and with the compensation Lin Zhiyan gave him before, the shortfall in surgery fees has become very small.

If everything goes well, my sister can probably have the surgery sooner.

Her tender gaze remained fixed on his face.

She watched as his smile faded, the light in his eyes dimmed, and his gaze became deep and unfathomable, as if he were looking into the far, far distance—an expression he only wore when he was thinking about the past.

"Brother, what's wrong?"

Wen Fan blinked quickly, shaking off the heavy darkness from his eyes and replacing it with a gentle smile.

He reached out and tucked her disheveled hair behind her ear, his tone as gentle as ever.

"It's nothing, I'm just thinking about what to cook for you tonight. What would you like to eat? I'll make it when I get home from get off work."

Looking at his nonchalant face, Wen Qing didn't press him for details. She thought for a moment and followed his words: "Sweet and sour pork ribs."

"Okay, sweet and sour pork ribs," Wen Fan nodded, "and stir-fry some vegetables too, you haven't been eating enough vegetables lately."

"Then let's steam an egg custard too."

"OK."

……

Another half month has passed in the blink of an eye.

Life returned to its previous rhythm. Wen Fan went to work at the bar every day, while Wen Qing stayed obediently at home.

Sometimes she paints, sometimes she does some housework, but most of the time she does nothing and just stares out the window in a daze.

That day, as Wen Fan had just left for work, Wen Qing looked at the fruit he had cut and the water he had poured for her before leaving that morning on the coffee table and suddenly felt a strong sense of unease.

If this continues, she'll really be ruined.

Having an older brother who takes care of everything isn't all good. He'll take meticulous care of you, and you'll slowly lose all your ability to take care of yourself under his watchful eye.

In order not to become a complete failure, she decided to be more diligent.

She tidied up her own room first, but after cleaning it she felt it wasn't enough, so she pushed open the door to Wen Fan's room, ready to clean it for him.

She had been to this room many times, but before, she had only come in to get things or wake him up, rarely observing him carefully.

Wen Fan's room was very tidy and didn't require her to clean much.

There were no clutter on the bedside table, the blankets were neatly folded, and a half-open book sat on the pillow.

She picked up the book and flipped through it. It was an introductory textbook on management, and the edges of the pages were frayed, indicating that she had read it more than once.

Tucked inside the book was a sticky note with several lines of notes written in neat, legible handwriting, summarizing key points about organizational structure and personnel management.

She put the book back next to her pillow, then looked at the desk, where there were several other books of the same type, all of which looked like secondhand books she had found at a secondhand bookstore.

Each book contains notes, some on sticky notes and some written directly in the blank spaces of the pages. The handwriting is small but neat.

There was a notebook in the desk drawer. Wenqing curiously opened it and found it filled with observations of the bar's daily operations, such as the patterns of liquor inventory turnover, the distribution of peak customer traffic, and the comparison of profit margins for different types of liquor.

These weren't earth-shattering events, but every single detail was meticulously recorded, as if I were working on a formal business plan.

Wenqing put the notebook back in the drawer and gently closed it.

She suddenly felt a lump in her throat.

She always knew her brother was very smart.

If it weren't for her, he could have gotten a good degree, found a good job, and become an elite in the workplace, instead of suffering humiliation as a waiter and bartender in a chaotic bar.

He hid his intelligence in these old books and notebooks that no one could see.

Just then, the phone rang, breaking the silence in the room.

Suppressing the bitterness in her heart, Wen Qing took out her phone and found that it was Wen Fan calling.

She answered, and a gentle, warm voice came from the other end.

"Qingqing, a package has arrived. Could you please pick it up for me at the entrance of the community? It's in the parcel locker at the gate. I'll send you the pickup code to your phone."

"Okay, I'll go right now," Wen Qing readily agreed.