After Faking My Death, My Iceberg Ex-Wife Went Crazy for Me - Chapter 3

Geng Xiaoxiao woke up feeling groggy. When she opened her eyes, the sky outside the window was already a hazy yellow.

She sat up, her still-blurred vision focusing on the clock. She vaguely made out the hour hand pointing to six.

Shouldn’t it be brighter at six in the morning?

Geng Xiaoxiao scratched her head, feeling a dull ache.

The room was dimly lit. She fumbled for her phone, turned it on, and stared blankly at the time displayed.

“Awake?”

Hearing the voice, Geng Xiaoxiao’s first instinct was to hide her phone.

“N… no,” she mumbled, “I wasn’t playing on my phone. I just wanted to check the time.”

“If you want to play, just turn on the light.”

The room instantly brightened as Jiang Yuheng switched on the light. “Still sleepy?” she asked.

Geng Xiaoxiao opened her mouth, shook her head, then nodded.

“It’s raining,” she changed the subject.

“It started soon after you fell asleep, and it’s coming down pretty hard,” Jiang Yuheng glanced out the window. “I’ll find you a jacket to wear later. The temperature’s dropped—don’t catch a cold.”

“Okay.”

“Now that you’re awake, go wash your face. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Geng Xiaoxiao got up, remembering to grab her eye drops.

After washing her face, she went to the kitchen to find someone.

A large plastic supermarket bag hung by the kitchen doorway. Geng Xiaoxiao tore off the takeout receipt, folded the bag neatly, and put it in a drawer.

“Grandma, is there anything I can help with?” she asked, stepping into the kitchen. Before she could take another step, Jiang Yuheng brandished a spatula, shooing her away with a dismissive “Go, go!”

“Someone who’s barely touched a knife handle wants to help? Just stay out of the way—that’s help enough. If you’re bored, go feed the cats. You’re just making a mess.”

She hadn’t even done anything yet.

Before Geng Xiaoxiao could protest, she was already being ushered out.

Fine, then I’ll feed the cats.

Humming an off-key tune, she opened a can of cat food and washed the cats’ water bowl, refilling it with fresh water.

After watching them munch contentedly for a while, Geng Xiaoxiao went to the window and cracked it open a sliver.

The rain felt particularly cold. Huazai padded over and sniffed at the raindrops seeping through the screen.

Jiang Yuheng’s voice drifted from the kitchen, mingling with the whir of the range hood: “I’m telling you, forget about finding an adopter. Just keep Huazai yourself. Living alone, it’s good to have a little companion.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to keep him,” Geng Xiaoxiao said.

Huazai, restless as ever, stretched his neck to lick the screen window. Geng Xiaoxiao quickly closed it, muttering, “Cats may seem independent, but they still need companionship. I barely have any time for myself.”

With no scents to explore, the kitten shifted his attention to the newly repaired phone charm hanging from Geng Xiaoxiao’s pocket, reaching out with his paw.

Jiang Yuheng asked, “Have you been busy lately?”

“Well… not too bad. I just got promoted, so I don’t have many important tasks yet… Stop kicking!”

The charm’s ring had already broken once. After only a few playful tugs, Huazai pulled it off, pouncing to snatch it in his mouth.

Geng Xiaoxiao quickly chased after him, retrieving the Mona charm. She continued, “But some of the senior colleagues are working non-stop, they barely have time to breathe.”

“If you ask me, you shouldn’t take on such exhausting work,” Jiang Yuheng said, bringing out a bowl and slamming it heavily on the table. Geng Xiaoxiao, still holding Huazai, froze for a moment.

“I saw on the news that several employees at those big tech companies have died suddenly. I’ve been saving your parents’ money and my retirement funds for you. You can even live off us if you want—it’s not like we can’t afford it!”

This sudden change of heart was startling. Just last summer, during her junior year, Jiang Yuheng had been urging her to take the civil service exam from morning till night, desperate for her to secure a stable, “iron rice bowl” job.

What had changed? Had the sun started setting in the east while she was sleeping?

Geng Xiaoxiao looked into Jiang Yuheng’s eyes and suddenly caught a flicker of worry.

So, she still doesn’t want me to be unemployed?

Wait, it’s Thursday today.

Geng Xiaoxiao burst out laughing, saying under Jiang Yuheng’s bewildered gaze, “It’s not that bad! Our company’s benefits are decent. I worked late yesterday, so they gave me today off.”

Hearing about the day off, Jiang Yuheng’s tense shoulders relaxed. “Really?” she asked, needing confirmation.

“Of course it’s true,” Geng Xiaoxiao teased. “Unless you think I got fired?”

“That’s impossible!” Jiang Yuheng retorted quickly. “Our Xiaoxiao is so talented! Every company would be fighting to hire you!”

“Keep it down, keep it down,” Geng Xiaoxiao chuckled, heading to the kitchen to bring out the dishes.

“Dinner’s ready!”

Braised pork, spicy chicken, boiled fish, stir-fried beef, and seaweed egg drop soup filled the small table to overflowing. The only vegetable dish, stir-fried greens, was placed directly in front of Jiang Yuheng.

Afraid of indigestion, Jiang Yuheng ate sparingly, using her chopsticks mostly to serve Geng Xiaoxiao.

As she served, she murmured, “I didn’t have time to stew beef brisket. Tell me in advance next time, and I’ll prepare it.”

Geng Xiaoxiao’s heart warmed. She scooted her chair closer, nudging against Jiang Yuheng. “Okay! I knew Grandma loved me the most.”

“Alright, alright, stop crowding me. Sit properly!”

At the stern tone, Geng Xiaoxiao immediately stilled, grinning sheepishly.

Jiang Yuheng was both exasperated and amused, but she couldn’t bring herself to scold her harshly. “Honestly, you’re all grown up but still act like a child, teasing me.”

Geng Xiaoxiao froze, a misty sheen welling up in her eyes before she blinked it away.

Geng Xiaoxiao lowered her head and stuffed a mouthful of rice into her mouth. “You’re still here, so what else am I if not a child?” she mumbled.

Jiang Yuheng snorted. “Then forget it. You were even more of a handful when you were little.”

She rambled on about old times—the mischief Xiaoxiao had gotten into as a toddler, the silly things she’d done, and how much of a headache she’d been.

There were endless stories to tell.

To her granddaughter, who was in the prime of her life, Jiang Yuheng’s life was already nearing its end. Having lived so long, the boundaries of time had blurred.

A year ago, ten years ago, twenty years ago—without careful thought, they all seemed like yesterday.

Jiang Yuheng added another helping of food to Xiaoxiao’s plate, urging, “Leave what you can’t finish. Don’t stuff yourself.”

Setting down her chopsticks, Jiang Yuheng gazed absently at Xiaoxiao’s profile, a trace of sadness she hadn’t even noticed herself lingering in her eyes.

In the blink of an eye—or so it seemed—where had that little girl gone, the one who used to drool while sucking on her fingers?

No one could answer Jiang Yuheng’s question.

After dinner, Geng Xiaoxiao volunteered to do the dishes.

There were plenty of leftovers, which she sealed and put in the refrigerator, planning to take some home so Jiang Yuheng wouldn’t have to reheat the same food for days.

In that short time, the rain outside intensified, wind-whipped droplets hammering against the windows in a relentless roar.

Jiang Yuheng, holding a cat teaser, passed by the kitchen doorway and casually asked, “Why don’t you stay here tonight?”

Geng Xiaoxiao turned, her eyes crinkling with a smile. “Sure.”

Hearing this, Jiang Yuheng tossed the cat teaser aside and hurried upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. “I aired the blankets a few days ago, so they’re fresh. I’ll get you a new set of sheets.”

Geng Xiaoxiao closed the refrigerator and followed after her. “Don’t bother. It’s just for one night—we can squeeze in together.”

By nine o’clock, Geng Xiaoxiao had already settled into bed, adapting to Jiang Yuheng’s healthy routine.

Unaccustomed to going to bed so early, Geng Xiaoxiao fidgeted like she had lice crawling on her skin, shifting and squirming restlessly.

Noticing her restlessness, Jiang Yuheng struck up a casual conversation, drifting from cats to work and then to former students.

Eventually, Jiang Yuheng said, “You should have taken the teacher certification exam back then. It’s stable and not as tiring.”

Geng Xiaoxiao sighed inwardly. “Times have changed,” she said. “Remember Sister Zhou who came crying to you last time? She only taught middle schoolers for two years, but she looks ten years older now. And she had to get two br3ast nodules checked—they were huge!”

She gestured with an exaggerated circle.

Jiang Yuheng fell silent, and Geng Xiaoxiao pressed her advantage. “Kids these days are nothing like before. You can’t say anything, you can’t touch them. And if you run into difficult parents, it’s a nightmare.”

“What if I lose my temper one day and do something terrible? Ruining my own reputation is one thing, but if word gets out, people will say, ‘That Teacher XX who did that thing? She was taught by Jiang Yuheng!’ Wouldn’t that tarnish your reputation in your later years?”

The words were alarming. Jiang Yuheng remained quiet for a long moment before seizing on a loophole. “I never taught you.”

Geng Xiaoxiao scoffed, acting as if it had already happened. “Tell that to them! People believe whatever they hear. Who would believe you?”

Now Jiang Yuheng was completely speechless, her brow furrowed as she seemed to ponder how to break this impasse.

Geng Xiaoxiao chuckled to herself and reached for her phone beside the pillow.

Her phone had vibrated a few minutes earlier. When she picked it up, the smile on her face instantly vanished.

It was a message from Ye Ling.

Still out?

Geng Xiaoxiao typed back:  Yeah

Above the message, the “typing…” indicator appeared and disappeared. After a moment, three words popped up in the lower left corner:

Where are you?

Geng Xiaoxiao stared at the words, lost in thought.

Ye Ling rarely initiated conversations. Before they married, Xiaoxiao had always been the one chasing after her. Even after their marriage, Ye Ling always stayed within Xiaoxiao’s line of sight.

Whenever Xiaoxiao wanted her, she was there.

As a result, nearly all their communication was initiated by Geng Xiaoxiao.

At first, Xiaoxiao didn’t think anything of it. During the two months Ye Ling was away on business, she sent messages frequently.

They were mostly trivial updates. Sometimes Ye Ling didn’t reply at all, and on other days, she might only send back two or three brief responses.

The time difference had split their lives into two separate worlds. No matter how convenient communication tools were, their exchanges were always strained.

After yet another missed video call, followed by a belated “Sorry, still busy,” Geng Xiaoxiao cradled her phone and suddenly realized that she might be bothering Ye Ling.

Once she suppressed her urge to share, Ye Ling began to “initiate” contact herself.

Earlier that day, Ye Ling had publicly announced Shang Mi’er as her “fiancée” and now sent this message. Was it concern or guilt?

Geng Xiaoxiao lowered her gaze, her fingers tapping the keyboard.

At lao…

A dark shadow fell beside her, and Geng Xiaoxiao instantly covered her phone.

“Grandma,” she said, turning around with disapproval, “peeking at phones isn’t very gentlemanly.”

“Who’s peeking? You know I have presbyopia,” Jiang Yuheng retorted, turning her head away in mock anger. After a moment, she glanced back, unable to resist asking, “Are you dating someone?”

“…No, just replying to a colleague.”

Geng Xiaoxiao hadn’t told her grandmother about her marriage to Ye Ling.

By all accounts, this was the right decision.

Blinking, Geng Xiaoxiao emphasized again, “Just a regular colleague.”

Jiang Yuheng gave her a knowing look and sighed dramatically. “I’m getting old… even my own granddaughter won’t tell me the truth anymore. Ah, I’m useless now…”

“Don’t talk nonsense…”

Geng Xiaoxiao abandoned her typing and hurried to comfort her grandmother. Her phone vibrated again on the pillow, but she deliberately ignored it.

She didn’t yet know she had already “replied” with a single emoji.

The background was a scene of dazzling lights and vibrant colors. A tabby cat with a distinctive mark on its mouth sat arrogantly on a high-legged stool, legs splayed wide, a glass of red wine in its paw.

The accompanying text was a mismatched couplet, with the horizontal scroll longer than the vertical lines:

Wretched, heartbroken soul

Tonight, I seek oblivion

Bring me eight sisters!