Chapter 1

*Extreme Abnormal*
Author: Renjian Zhuilang (Complete + Extras)
**Synopsis**
Jing Miao saved Xi Siyan’s life—yet his own life rewound by more than a decade. With a fragile body and an almost blank soul, he could only go on by clinging to Xi Siyan.
Everyone thought Xi Siyan’s dazzling future was ruined by a fool. One moral shackle, and he tied his entire life onto it—like a wolf slowly gnawed down and hunted: fighting, bleeding, resisting, until finally taken apart, dismantled, and rebuilt.
Only Xi Siyan himself knew the truth: the one living “parasitically” was, in fact, him.
They were both extremely abnormal.
A “pseudo-mad” fatherly top addicted to taking care of someone × a truly simple-minded, easily-crying bottom addicted to being cared for. A story of two people with broken edges.
No forced misunderstandings, no coercion, no helpless imprisonment, no sickly-possessive tropes—just two-way love, two-way growth, and a happy ending. Sweet. Very sweet. I swear.
**Content Notes**
- The title says it all: this really is *Extreme Abnormal*.
- This is **not** underage content (seriously emphasized).
- The bottom is truly cognitively impaired, not amnesiac. He won’t “return to normal” all at once—he’ll only get better gradually, and won’t become completely “normal.” Also, he really, really cries a lot.
- The top’s “madness” is more like pseudo-madness, or a side forced out by circumstances. Though described as fatherly, this is not a huge age-gap pairing: both are university-age—one undergrad, one PhD student.
- The cognitive growth isn’t fully based on psychology textbooks, but the author believes it follows internal logic.
Tags: devoted love, marriage, campus
Keywords: Xi Siyan, Jing Miao
One-line summary: Love is dying together—then living together.
Theme: mutual redemption, kind coexistence.
Yesterday, Jing Miao got greedy and ate an extra half-serving of crayfish. He threw up twice in the middle of the night, and Xi Siyan barely slept.
He figured he should make something light this morning—sweet plain porridge. At noon, winter melon soup. If he made it back in time, he’d cook winter melon wontons with cucumber-and-egg stir-fry. If not, he’d call the housekeeper from the villa to come over and keep an eye on Jing Miao.
With a piece of toast between his teeth, Xi Siyan began cooking white porridge with practiced ease.
He checked the time. It was only seven. It would be ready around seven-thirty. Judging from how miserable Jing Miao had been, he probably wouldn’t be up anytime soon, so Xi Siyan switched it to keep-warm mode.
He went to the living room, wrote a few reminders on sticky notes, and posted them on the bedroom door and the fridge, then quietly packed his defense materials.
Today was Xi Siyan’s PhD dissertation defense.
The phone in his pocket buzzed. Without even checking who it was, he answered.
“Hello.” His voice was very low.
The person on the other end choked on their words. “Siyan, are you sneaking around like a thief? Isn’t your defense today? Shouldn’t you be at school already?”
Xi Siyan kept his voice soft. “Miaomiao is still asleep. I’ll head out after I finish packing. What’s up?”
Wang Song fell silent for a beat. “Xiaotian’s back. After your defense, let’s get together. Same place—Jinjiu Sunshine.”
“Then why are you calling me this early?”
“Her flight lands at eight-thirty, and she insists we pick her up. Out of all of us, somehow I’m the only one free today. Isn’t that insane? I haven’t gotten up at seven in years,” Wang Song complained. “What time will you be done?”
What time would he be done…
Xi Siyan swung his backpack on and slipped on his shoes while thinking: if it went smoothly, he could finish by eleven, go home to eat with Jing Miao, then take him to the hospital for a checkup…
“Not sure,” he said. “You guys eat first. Don’t wait for me. I can’t promise the time.”
Maybe waking up too early put Wang Song in a bad mood. His anger flared. “I asked around. Your department only has three students defending this round. It won’t take the whole morning. What else do you have to do?”
“Miaomiao’s stomach was bad yesterday. He threw up in the middle of the night. I need to take him to see a doctor—”
Wang Song cut him off with a curse. “I throw up every time I drink—why don’t you take me to the hospital? Is Jing Miao the only precious thing in the world? How long has it been? Every time we ask you out, you can’t come. You’re ditching your brothers for a fool?”
“Wang Song.” Xi Siyan’s tone stayed flat. “Lower your voice.”
It was like punching cotton. Wang Song hung up.
Xi Siyan put his phone away without expression and moved to leave.
“Gege.”
His hand paused on the door. He turned and saw Jing Miao in creamy-white pajamas, pale-faced, standing in the corridor between the bedroom and living room.
Jing Miao always gave him the illusion that time didn’t pass.
Twenty-one by physical age, yet always like a child.
Slender and fragile, his height had stopped at 175—the same as when he was eighteen. Xi Siyan still remembered his cousin who ran a film company sighing over Jing Miao: “What a pity. Such a pity. If his mind were normal, with that face alone I could make him famous.”
Yes—his mind wasn’t normal.
Xi Siyan turned back, raised the room temperature a little, and asked gently, “Why are you up, Miaomiao? Did I wake you? Or is your stomach hurting again?”
“You didn’t wake me. It doesn’t hurt.” Jing Miao obediently reached out to be held. “Where are you going, gege?”
Xi Siyan took his backpack off again and tossed it in the hallway, then naturally lifted him into his arms and sat with him on the sofa. “Gege has to go defend. At noon… at noon I’ll try to come back and eat with Miaomiao, okay?”
Jing Miao was a grown man, but Xi Siyan had long since gotten used to holding him like a child.
He was too light—like he wasn’t a person, but bones wrapped in a thin layer of skin and flesh. This year was better; his cheeks had filled out a bit, looking healthier and brighter. Two years ago he’d been so thin his cheeks caved in, and his body felt sharp to the touch. Back then, Xi Siyan was always afraid he’d die from malnutrition.
Jing Miao hugged Xi Siyan’s neck and leaned against his shoulder, rubbing his forehead under Xi Siyan’s chin. In a soft, sticky voice he asked:
“Is a defense something very important?”