After Faking My Death, My Iceberg Ex-Wife Went Crazy for Me - Chapter 15

The engine roared as the sports car accelerated, its speed increasing rapidly.

Inside the car, Geng Xiaoxiao watched the scenery blur past, finally breaking the silence that had hung between them since they got in.

“Sister Jiqing, slow down a bit. Be careful.”

Xue Jiqing glanced in the rearview mirror, but the angle prevented her from seeing Geng Xiaoxiao’s face.

Even so, she could sense it: Geng Xiaoxiao was too calm, unnaturally so.

Xue Jiqing slowed down as requested, asking vaguely, “Are you going back there tonight?”

“Probably not,” Geng Xiaoxiao replied, her voice muffled. “I think it’s better if we meet again in a few days.”

“I have an apartment near Mo Yuan, and another one a bit further away. You can stay in either one for now,” Xue Jiqing offered.

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” Geng Xiaoxiao said, giving an address. “My parents left me a fully furnished place.”

“Alright.”

Xue Jiqing fell silent and changed course.

When she had picked up Geng Xiaoxiao from Mo Yuan Technology that afternoon, she had assumed the two were finally going public. Little did she know she would witness that scene later that night.

Throughout her life, Xue Jiqing had despised nothing more than infidelity and meddling third parties.

How could it be Ye Ling?

Xue Jiqing wanted to offer some comfort, but when she opened her mouth, the glib tongue she usually wielded so effortlessly with her girlfriend failed her. After racking her brain, she managed to squeeze out, “Maybe… there’s some misunderstanding.”

The words sounded absurd even to her own ears.

They had been eavesdropping outside the door, hearing everything clearly: Ye Ling was getting engaged to Shang Mi’er on August 8th.

This date was no coincidence. Xue Jiqing remembered that exactly a year ago, Ye Ling had called her casually to announce she was married.

Now, a year later, she was finally holding an engagement banquet—but for someone else.

Xue Jiqing gritted her teeth, regretting that her punch hadn’t landed harder.

“You shouldn’t have stopped me earlier,” she said bitterly.

“Forget it,” Geng Xiaoxiao replied, cracking the window slightly. A faint smile played at the corner of her lips. “It wouldn’t be right to ruin her plan.”

“Plan?” Xue Jiqing asked, startled. “What plan?”

Geng Xiaoxiao explained briefly: “The Shang Family is forcing Mi’er into a political marriage. Desperate, she had to ask Ye Ling to stage a fake engagement to buy her a few months. This will give Mi’er time to seize power.”

Xue Jiqing’s mind raced. “If Ye Ling wants to stall, she wouldn’t rush into an engagement. So the banquet…”

“It’s possible Shang Mi’er deliberately leaked the news, and Ye Ling didn’t know about it beforehand,” Geng Xiaoxiao added, picking up where Xue Jiqing left off.

“Shang Yafan must have been planted by Shang Mi’er too, just to make us overhear this conversation and provoke you,” Xue Jiqing’s thoughts were becoming clearer. “Which means the engagement was never actually…”

The light turned red. Xue Jiqing slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching against the pavement with a piercing skreeee!

The sudden stop left her mind blank for a moment. When her rationality returned, she found herself unable to finish the sentence.

Ye Ling hadn’t denied it.

Once public opinion takes hold, even lies can become truth.

Geng Xiaoxiao clearly understood everything, her words merely meant to comfort Xue Jiqing.

Xue Jiqing slammed her fist against the steering wheel, cursing in frustration.

“Why does she always make such stupid mistakes when it comes to Shang Mi’er?!”

“Who knows…” Geng Xiaoxiao propped her head up, the night wind drying her eyes.

They both knew the answer.

Because of a supposed life-saving debt, because of habits ingrained since childhood.

Because of wishful thinking.

But those who gamble on wishful thinking must bear the consequences.

A house left unoccupied for an extended period needs ventilation. Geng Xiaoxiao grabbed a few changes of clothes and booked a nearby hotel.

Lacking makeup remover, she ordered a jar through delivery.

The pale yellow cream melted in her palm as she carefully massaged away her makeup before rinsing it off.

The sound of running water lingered for an unusually long time. When Geng Xiaoxiao finally lifted her head, her eyes were rimmed with red.

She wiped her face with two tissues, sat cross-legged on the bed, and began deleting her memos in chronological order.

The most recent entry was from a month ago, listing all the cake flavors at Sucré, with four marked as “Guess She’d Like.”

Further back was a travel guide.

Many travel guides, all marked with “×” instead of “√.”

She had never found the right time.

As she cleared the memos from beginning to end, Geng Xiaoxiao felt as if a piece of her heart had been hollowed out.

She turned her head blankly and saw the linen dress draped over the small sofa.

Thinking about it, such tenderness should have been insignificant.

Yet it was precisely this accumulation of insignificant moments that had trapped her.

Geng Xiaoxiao’s lips curled into a bitter smile.

She opened her phone’s photo album and accessed the private folder.

Inside was a single photo: a candid shot she had taken of Ye Ling.

A year ago.

In the four years since she’d transmigrated, the System had only contacted her twice.

The first time was to introduce the plot and issue her initial mission.

The second time, it warned her that someone at the banquet intended to drug Ye Ling.

At the time, Geng Xiaoxiao had just passed her driver’s test but hadn’t yet received her license.

Unable to reach Ye Ling by phone, she panicked and stole Jiang Yuheng’s car keys, speeding across town in an aging Santana.

By sheer luck, she hit all green lights and encountered no other vehicles.

But it was still too late.

When she arrived, Ye Ling had already drunk half the drugged wine.

Ye Ling, ever perceptive, refused to take another sip, but she was trapped in conversation, unable to extricate herself.

The drug’s effects were already taking hold. To others, she merely seemed to be pausing longer before answering, her speech slowing. But Geng Xiaoxiao could see that Ye Ling was becoming disoriented, her steps unsteady.

Without bothering to identify the culprit, Geng Xiaoxiao pretended to be Ye Ling’s secretary, made up a quick excuse, and led her away.

Only when she took Ye Ling’s arm did Geng Xiaoxiao realize the situation was even worse than she’d feared.

Ye Ling was barely able to stand, her breath scorching against Geng Xiaoxiao’s shoulder. As the surrounding noise faded, Geng Xiaoxiao even heard a low, suppressed moan.

The banquet hall was crowded, and fearing they would draw attention, Geng Xiaoxiao had no choice but to guide Ye Ling to a private lounge and lock the door behind them.

Everything unfolded as naturally as water flowing downhill.

Geng Xiaoxiao couldn’t bring herself to look at Ye Ling, her hands trembling as she unfastened the formal gown. Her fingers shook even as they brushed against Ye Ling’s skin.

“Is it here?” Geng Xiaoxiao asked, tilting her head away, her gaze skimming across Ye Ling’s jade-white skin as if trying to bore a hole through the sofa.

“A little lower, Xiaoxiao…”

Until this moment, Ye Ling had always addressed her formally as “Geng Xiaoxiao,” the three syllables carrying an icy distance.

But now, the goddess had fallen from grace, her entire being stained with a different hue.

The intimate repetition of “Xiaoxiao” sent Geng Xiaoxiao’s heart racing, her head burning as if about to melt into a puddle.

She only remembered that her hands couldn’t stop.

The smooth, small pearls were continuously kneaded, and the goddess’s revelations gradually shattered into incoherent fragments.

After an unknown amount of time, the person on the sofa suddenly convulsed.

Geng Xiaoxiao remained frozen in her kneeling position, watching Ye Ling’s tense feet and the sofa fabric clutched tightly in her hand.

As the convulsions subsided, someone knocked on the lounge door.

It was Meng Lianqiu, standing in the doorway with a room key.

Once the side effects of the sedative wore off, Ye Ling reverted to her usual cold demeanor.

Worried, Geng Xiaoxiao slept in the living room to keep watch over her.

In the middle of the night, she woke up with a start, smelling smoke.

Geng Xiaoxiao crept over and widened the crack in the bedroom door.

Ye Ling was leaning against the balcony railing, a crimson glow flickering between her fingers, its light dancing in the wind.

The moon was bright that night, casting stark shadows. Ye Ling stood behind the glass, always separated from her by a layer.

Compelled by some inexplicable impulse, Geng Xiaoxiao raised her phone and secretly captured the scene.

Perhaps out of embarrassment, she avoided Ye Ling for two days.

On the third day, Ye Ling found her and said, “Let’s get married.”

How could she have forgotten?

In her sleep, Geng Xiaoxiao wept large, heavy tears.

Ye Ling’s marriage to her had never been voluntary.