After Faking My Death, My Iceberg Ex-Wife Went Crazy for Me - Chapter 30

Ye Ling had arranged a series of tasks. Meng Lianqiu was busy outside making endless phone calls, while inside the surveillance room, Xue Jiqing pulled documents from her bag.

“The information you asked me to investigate.”

“I’ve compiled the guest list for the banquet, the names of the staff who were present, and the personnel responsible for procuring the banquet’s food and drinks, along with their relationship networks. I’ve gathered as much as I could.”

“But it’s been a year. The hotel staff turnover is manageable, and records are archived. However, confirming who actually attended the banquet is difficult. I couldn’t just ask everyone individually. I had to… use my charm to get this list. It’s comprehensive, but it likely includes people who didn’t even show up.”

“……”

Ye Ling lowered her head and typed on the keyboard: I only asked you to find what you could. I didn’t want you to sacrifice yourself.

Xue Jiqing waved her hand. “It wasn’t a sacrifice. Just a dinner date with an ex. No loss there. But I noticed your name on the guest list. Why investigate this now, a year later?”

Ye Ling hesitated for a moment before typing:

Telling you won’t hurt. A year ago, someone slipped me a date-rape drug at that banquet.

“?!” Xue Jiqing’s eyes widened as she stared at the words appearing on the screen.

Xiaoxiao arrived just in time to take me away.

“Thank goodness…”

But it was too timely.

Do you understand? She came straight for me, without asking a single question, as if she already knew what had happened. And she found the empty lounge with pinpoint accuracy.

You know the layout of Everjoy Hotel—it’s deliberately complex, designed to confuse first-time visitors.

Xue Jiqing frowned. “Maybe Xiaoxiao had been there before?”

Impossible. The next day, Meng Lianqiu told me she’d seen Xiaoxiao wandering around the first floor, looking lost. Lianqiu had to guide her out.

Xue Jiqing fell silent.

After regaining consciousness that night, I subtly questioned Xiaoxiao about why she was there. She stammered for ages before finally saying she was just passing by.

I didn’t even want to call that an excuse.

But if she had known in advance, everything would make sense.

My mother orchestrated the entire scheme, arranging for Xiaoxiao to arrive at the perfect moment. Whether Xiaoxiao agreed with the plan or not, she would have come anyway.

That’s why I didn’t pursue the matter further a year ago.

“No wonder… I always wondered why you were so resistant to Aunt Ye interfering in your life. How come you suddenly…”

Xue Jiqing pondered for a moment before saying, “Aunt Ye certainly seems capable of such a thing. After all, she pressured you to get engaged to Xiaoxiao when Xiaoxiao had just turned nineteen.”

“Speaking of which, I’ve always found that odd. Nineteen is far too young to be settling down so early. It doesn’t seem like she truly had Xiaoxiao’s best interests at heart.”

“Because of this, I actually suspected back then that Aunt Ye might have been infatuated with Xiaoxiao herself. But due to age and social norms, she wanted you to marry Xiaoxiao as a cover, a convenient shield.”

Ye Ling remained silent.

What a vivid imagination.

“It really does seem plausible, and it’s not like similar things haven’t happened before,” Xue Jiqing muttered. “I even tried to subtly warn Xiaoxiao, but that silly girl didn’t catch on. She never noticed that Aunt Ye’s affection for her went beyond mere ‘motherly love.'”

Recalling the past, Xue Jiqing sighed wistfully. “In the end, it was all just my overthinking. After you two married, Aunt Ye not only refrained from interfering but seemed to have achieved her heart’s desire. She became much more serene, handed over the company to professional managers, and even mended her strained relationship with your maternal grandfather.”

Ye Ling lowered her lashes, concealing the mockery in her eyes.

After all, her wish had indeed come true.

The regret that had haunted her for years had finally found fulfillment through her daughter.

A wave of nausea churned in her stomach. Ye Ling took two sips of warm water to suppress the faint queasiness.

Xue Jiqing, oblivious to her expression, asked, “If that’s the case, why did you still want me to investigate?”

“……”

Because Xiaoxiao really seems to have learned about me being drugged through other channels.

“What other channels could there be? In our circle, she only knows a few of us,” Xue Jiqing counted on her fingers. “It’s not like she’s psychic, right?”

Ye Ling’s hand froze mid-motion. In that moment, the fog clouding her mind seemed to dissipate slightly.

But still, it wasn’t enough for her to see the whole picture clearly.

“No,” Xue Jiqing said after scratching her head in thought for a while, slamming her hand on the table. “Next time I see Xiaoxiao, I’m going to—”

Outside the glass window, waves crashed against the shore, repeatedly washing over the jagged rocks.

Xue Jiqing suddenly froze.

Would there even be a next time?

Two kilometers away, at a one-bedroom Airbnb, Lan Xiao, dressed in a loose T-shirt and shorts, chewed on an ice pop as she unpacked a mountain of packages.

Inside were her phone, clothes, shoes, a sun umbrella, a hat, toiletries, and two wigs she’d bought on a whim.

Everything had been ordered via express delivery apps. In addition to these, a large pile of packages was already en route.

Her online-applied ID card would take at least a week to arrive by mail, giving her time to prepare for her upcoming studies abroad.

What she’d told Chen Qiao and Grandma wasn’t entirely a lie—she genuinely planned to study abroad, but under the identity of Lan Xiao.

On the night she and Ye Ling obtained their marriage certificate, System 823 had provided an estimated timeline for her death scenario.

Since then, Lan Xiao had resolved to study abroad and abandoned her guaranteed admission to graduate school at her current university.

Since she wouldn’t be able to finish her studies anyway, she figured she might as well give up the opportunity to someone else.

While preparing her university application materials, System 823 had forged a complete set of identity data for “Lan Xiao,” including academic records.

With the fabricated records provided by the System, Lan Xiao had already obtained a replacement “Lan Xiao” identity card last year. Under the guise of tourism, she traveled to another province to take the necessary IELTS and GRE exams, then destroyed the card.

Keeping it on her person was simply too risky.

The only truly risky part was the “Lan Xiao” recommendation letter.

The System’s capabilities were limited to virtual data; it couldn’t conjure physical objects from nothing, only provide plans and suggestions.

Left with no other choice, Lan Xiao had to grit her teeth, present the identity card bearing the name “Lan Xiao,” and lie to the elderly professor, claiming she had changed her surname. Only then did she obtain the recommendation letter and signature.

Though the System had assured her of foolproof success, Lan Xiao remained anxious, fearing exposure, until a month later, when she learned that the professor had passed away peacefully in his sleep.

It was then she realized the System also possessed the ability to scan people’s physical conditions.

Later, she seized opportunities to have the System scan everyone around her, treating illnesses where necessary and implementing preventative measures where possible.

Only Ye Ling defied the System’s detection, as if she were destined to be naturally weaker than others.

Why am I thinking about her again?

Lan Xiao smiled bitterly and took out a wig to try on.

Having given up on returning to her original world, the System had converted the rewards for completing side quests into cash bonuses.

Combined with the remaining funds from her main mission, Lan Xiao could essentially live out the rest of her life without working, indulging in extravagant spending.

While it wasn’t quite a case of a poor person suddenly becoming rich, Lan Xiao had indeed developed a considerable shopping urge. Afraid of accumulating too many possessions, she focused on buying only the most expensive items.

This wig, for example, had cost her a four-figure sum, and its craftsmanship was undeniably exquisite.

As for how it looked on her… Lan Xiao had never worn another wig before, so she had no basis for comparison.

Just as she was about to take it off, System 823’s voice echoed in her mind.

It was a prearranged alert: she had instructed the System to notify her immediately of any new discoveries related to “Geng Xiaoxiao” by the rescue team or the police.

Host, your bag has washed up on the beach and been found. Do you want to go take a look?

Lan Xiao froze.

“Let’s go see,” she said.

Just a quick glance from a distance.

Nearly twenty hours later, the search and rescue area had expanded to hundreds of square kilometers.

Yet the sonar returns still showed only reefs and schools of fish—no ships, no drones, and no trace of Geng Xiaoxiao.

Coastal surveillance footage revealed no sign of her coming ashore either.

It was as if she had vanished into the boundless sea.

The only evidence of her existence was the crossbody bag that had washed up on the shore.

Two tourists found the bag. Seeing the ID card inside, they assumed someone had accidentally dropped it. After broadcasting a lost-and-found announcement that went unclaimed, they reported it to the police.

By the time Ye Ling and her group arrived, the police had already finished investigating the scene.

“Based on surveillance footage and eyewitness accounts, the bag likely washed ashore about three and a half hours ago,” the officer explained.

“What about Xiaoxiao?” Xue Jiqing asked urgently. “Did she come ashore too?”

“I’m sorry, but we haven’t found any trace of Ms. Geng Xiaoxiao in the vicinity.”

“…Not finding her isn’t necessarily bad news,” Xue Jiqing murmured to herself. “Right, Ye Ling? Ye Ling?”

Xue Jiqing turned to find Ye Ling standing almost with her back to her, staring blankly in a particular direction.

She took two steps closer and asked, “What are you looking at?”

Before the words had even left her lips, Ye Ling had flung her communication tablet to the ground, taken a long stride, and sprinted toward the direction she had been staring at.

In the crowd, a long-haired girl wearing a pale purple sun shirt froze, pressed her hand against her hat, and turned to leave.

The wind howled past as Ye Ling’s lungs expanded and contracted rhythmically. A metallic sweetness rose in her throat, but she no longer noticed it.

She had seen her.

It was her.

Absolutely her.

Her chest swelled with overwhelming joy, making Ye Ling feel so light she might float away. She desperately wanted to catch up to her and tell her…

Tell her…

Would she even want to hear it?

Or did she still want to see her?

The moment that thought surfaced, her steps grew heavy.

Beep—!!

A delivery scooter was about to roar past. Xue Jiqing finally grabbed Ye Ling’s sleeve and yanked her back violently.

Losing her balance, Ye Ling fell to the ground.

Xue Jiqing didn’t help her up, instead scolding through tears, “Are you crazy? Can’t you see the red light?! If you want to die, don’t do it in front of me!”

The last words sounded familiar. Ye Ling vaguely recalled the scene of their first encounter with Xiaoxiao.

I shouldn’t have been so harsh with her.

She pushed herself up, the fresh bandage on her right arm already stained with bl00d.

A faint smile played on her lips, her eyes shining like brilliant gemstones.

“Ji Qing,” she said, “want to make a bet?”

Xue Jiqing stared at her. “What’s gotten into you?”

Ye Ling spoke slowly, each word deliberate. “I’m serious.”

Xue Jiqing sighed in resignation. “Fine. What’s the bet?”

“The bet is… the rescue team will never find Xiaoxiao.”

“If I win, it means…”

She would live a peaceful life, undisturbed.

She just didn’t want to see her.

It’s okay.

It’s okay.

Yes, it’s okay.

In the alley across the street, Lan Xiao removed her sun-protective clothing and clutched it to her chest along with her hat.

“Xiao Ba,” her voice muffled beneath the mask, betraying no emotion, “remember to erase the surveillance footage.”

Understood.

“……”

“Never mind. Modify the footage instead.”

“Adjust my figure slightly, remove the mask, and alter my face. Keep only about thirty percent of my original features—the eyebrows and eyes—and completely change the rest. Then, make sure I appear in one of the camera’s frames.”

“Make it look natural.”

Understood.