After Faking My Death, My Iceberg Ex-Wife Went Crazy for Me - Chapter 35

—The repeated content from the previous chapter has been replaced. If you feel the story doesn’t flow smoothly, please review the previous chapter. Heartfelt thanks!

Europe, at a gathering of international students.

The kitchen was off-limits to casual visitors, but a few hungry souls lingered at the doorway, peering eagerly inside.

At the center of attention stood a girl with a ponytail, her hair a striking orange-pink and her fair skin making her stand out in the crowd.

But what truly set her apart in this setting, beyond her appearance, was the ladle in her hand.

As the clay pot’s lid was lifted, Pu Mengyu sniffed deeply, tears welling in her eyes.

“It smells so good! Just like my grandmother’s cooking!”

Hearing this, the pink-haired girl ladled a small bowl of soup and beckoned her over. “Want to try some?”

“Absolutely!”

Amid envious glances, Pu Mengyu strode forward with her head held high.

The reason was simple: six months ago, when they moved, the moving company had lost her clay pot. Pu Mengyu had been scouring international student secondhand groups for half a year before finally finding this one.

Moreover, she had provided the recipe for this dish. Who else deserved the first taste?

Ignoring the scalding heat, Pu Mengyu slurped down half the bowl, tears streaming down her face. “Waaah, this is exactly the flavor! Lan, you’re a culinary goddess!”

When Lan Xiao first heard such praise, she would humbly demur. But after three years, she had long grown immune to it.

Heaven knows, before she left the country, Lan Xiao was barely functional. She could follow a recipe to make soup or fry an egg, but she couldn’t even chop potatoes properly. Everyone worried she’d starve to death living alone.

Later, unable to stomach Western food, she started frying eggs more often, and gradually learned to cook other dishes.

When work and studies weren’t too demanding, she occasionally prepared simple home-cooked meals to satisfy her hunger.

She hadn’t made soup in ages. Not only was it time-consuming and laborious, but the quality of pork here was disastrous.

Even the variety of chicken available paled in comparison to what she could find back home.

Today’s cooking session was twofold: first, she’d finally found suitable ingredients to “break in” her new pot, and second, she wanted to celebrate graduation season.

Lan Xiao wasn’t the only international student who could cook. With the soup simmering on low heat, her task was complete. She headed to the small balcony for some fresh air.

To reach the balcony, she had to pass through the living room. Several young women were gathered there, chattering animatedly and occasionally teasing the only white girl among them.

Whatever they were saying, the blonde girl’s face was turning crimson.

Lan Xiao deliberately avoided her gaze, but in her peripheral vision, she saw the blonde girl rise to her feet.

Letting out a silent sigh, Lan Xiao pretended not to notice and slid open the glass door, stepping onto the balcony to feel the breeze.

The late May night was pleasant, neither too hot nor too cold. Lan Xiao removed her hair tie, smoothed her hair strand by strand, and then retied it.

The blonde girl stood behind her, silent except for the soft sound of her breathing.

Seeing she wasn’t leaving, Lan Xiao tied her hair back up, then turned halfway around as if just noticing her. “Good evening, Wendy.”

“Good evening,” Wendy replied with a demure smile, speaking in Chinese. “Lan, will you return to China after graduation?”

Her pronunciation was a little odd, but her enunciation was clear, showing she had put effort into learning the language.

Lan Xiao answered in English, “Not immediately. I want to live here for a while first and then decide whether to return to China for work.”

At this, the blonde girl visibly relaxed and pulled a bouquet of hydrangeas from behind her back. “Happy graduation! The Chinese say, ‘A bright and promising future.'”

Lan Xiao paused for a moment, then smiled and accepted the flowers. “Thank you.”

Normally, the conversation would end there, but Wendy clearly had other ideas.

She asked about some Chinese language questions she was struggling with, then brought up academic matters—though Lan Xiao couldn’t fathom how Wendy’s degrees in computer science and physics could possibly help with literary history.

Still, they chatted politely for a while until a lively cheer finally erupted from the hall.

The food had arrived, and the party officially began.

It’s an age-old tradition: the cook never has to clean up.

Once everyone was full of soda, rice, and meat, someone else would tidy the kitchen until it gleamed. Afterward, the guests would gather in small groups to play cards or mahjong.

Wendy hadn’t left yet, enthusiastically participating in every activity. Soon, white strips of paper were plastered across her face.

Beneath those strips, her round, dog-like eyes kept darting toward a certain pink-haired figure.

Lan Xiao felt drained, mostly emotionally.

She excused herself to organize research materials and retreated to the study. Moments later, Pu Mengyu arrived with two cups of iced oolong tea, the cups still radiating a cool mist.

“Congratulations on finally graduating,” Pu Mengyu said, clinking her cup against Lan Xiao’s.

“Thanks,” Lan Xiao replied.

They had met three years ago and, surprisingly, hit it off immediately, becoming roommates ever since.

This year, Lan Xiao had completed the credits for her double major and graduated successfully. Pu Mengyu, however, was pursuing a doctorate and had several more years of study ahead.

Pu Mengyu glanced at Lan Xiao’s computer screen and saw no documents open. Realizing the “organizing research materials” excuse was just a pretext, she naturally lingered.

Taking a sip of her tea, she asked, “I heard your professors at the college really admire you. Since you’re not planning to return to China, are you sure you don’t want to continue your studies?”

Lan Xiao shook her head. “We’ll see. At least for now, I have no plans for further education.”

“Alright, suit yourself,” Pu Mengyu said, not pressing the matter further. She gestured with her chin toward the living room. “Wendy’s over the moon that you’re not planning to move back to China.”

Lan Xiao sighed. “It’s just temporary, and it’s not like I’m doing it for her.”

“Who cares? All she knows is she doesn’t have to be apart from you. Besides, even if you did go back, it wouldn’t matter. Wendy’s graduating soon and can easily apply for a visa. Her Chinese is so good, she might even follow you there.”

Lan Xiao pressed her temples. Pu Mengyu continued, “Seriously, have you considered it?”

“I’ve told you before, I don’t like younger sisters,” Lan Xiao reiterated.

“As if you like older sisters any better! Besides, white women naturally look more mature. Standing next to you, she’d almost look like the older sister.”

“It’s different.”

“How is it different? I don’t get it,” Pu Mengyu counted on her fingers. “You’ve had no shortage of admirers over the years—spicy girls, sweethearts, and androgynous types, you name it. Yet you haven’t given any of them a second glance.”

Lan Xiao remained silent.

Curious, Pu Mengyu asked, “So, what kind of person do you like?”

“I don’t know,” Lan Xiao replied vaguely. “Maybe it’s just about having a connection.”

“A connection, a connection—let’s be honest, it’s all about looks,” Pu Mengyu teased, poking her. “So, what kind of face do you find attractive?”

“I haven’t thought about it,” Lan Xiao said, clicking the mouse randomly. “I’m not planning on dating anytime soon!”

“Alright,” Pu Mengyu sighed dramatically. “Poor Wendy, so head over heels for you.”

Lan Xiao was getting annoyed, or perhaps it was embarrassment fueling her anger. “Why are you talking so much nonsense tonight? Did someone pay you to do this?”

“Talking about money is so vulgar.” Pu Mengyu wagged her finger with mock solemnity. “Don’t underestimate Wendy. Her family’s loaded, and she has connections in all sorts of fields. My research project…”

Lan Xiao drained her oolong tea in one gulp and shoved the empty cup into Pu Mengyu’s arms. “…Take your research project and get lost. Don’t show your face here again before tomorrow.”

“As you wish.” Pu Mengyu flipped her hand in a casual salute and sauntered out.

The study fell silent. Lan Xiao rubbed her face and pulled the silver bamboo leaf pendant from beneath her collar.

This necklace had been with her since she transmigrated here seven years ago. Inside resided a technological artifact calling itself “System 823.”

Over the past three years, Lan Xiao had rarely used it, gradually repurposing it into a smart assistant.

Whenever she wanted to do something, she simply thought of it, and System 823 would record it and remind her at the specified time.

However, Lan Xiao’s thoughts turned to the system now for a serious matter.

“Has the original plot begun in the country?”

It has.

The Su Family recently discovered that Su Yi isn’t their biological daughter and is currently investigating clues.

However, since Shang Yafan arranged a new identity for the female lead after she entered the Shang Family, the cover-up was thorough. The Su Family hasn’t yet traced the female lead’s whereabouts.

“It’s already at this stage…” Lan Xiao frowned.

She recalled that soon the female lead would meet Ye Ling, and through a series of coincidences, the truth about the kidnapping from years ago would be revealed.

Shang Mi’er’s lies would be exposed, and she would naturally become a discarded pawn of the Shang Family. Riding this wave of momentum, Shang Yafan would secure even greater resources.

What followed would be the usual tangled web of love and hate, business conflicts, and power struggles between the protagonists and antagonists.

But…

“The Shang Family declared bankruptcy for another subsidiary last month. Their assets have shrunk by at least sixty percent in the past three years. To put it bluntly, they’re just living off their past glory now. Does Shang Yafan really have the ability to turn the tide?”

Lan Xiao doubted it. If Shang Yafan truly possessed such extraordinary capabilities, she wouldn’t have been overshadowed by Shang Yangheng, her good-for-nothing playboy cousin.

Nor would she have allowed her own origins to become an open secret.

Yes, in this respect, the development diverged from the original book.

Lan Xiao wasn’t sure which butterfly effect had caused it, but Shang Yafan’s true parentage was revealed much sooner than in the novel.

Almost three years ago, shortly after Lan Xiao arrived abroad and before classes even started, the System had informed her of the news.

According to the System, Shang Mi’er had stolen Shang Yangheng and Shang Yafan’s toothbrushes and hair samples, then commissioned a private paternity test.

However, because the test was conducted without the consent of the parties involved, Shang Yangheng and Shang Yafan vehemently denied the results.

Lan Xiao suspected they would only change their tune when the corresponding plot point from the original book arrived.

This suggested that the original narrative’s timeline wasn’t as rigid as she had assumed.

Lan Xiao didn’t dwell on it; after all, it had little to do with her.

She only needed to keep a close eye on developments back home and ensure her grandmother’s safety.

With her “informants” in place, achieving this wasn’t difficult.

Her decision not to pursue a doctorate stemmed from similar considerations.

To maintain maximum flexibility, she needed ample free time. A doctoral program, or even a regular job at a company, would have severely restricted her availability.

Lan Xiao took out paper and pen, casually drew a horizontal line, and marked various nodes along it.

The original timeline of the book wasn’t long. If things went smoothly, she could return to her home country from this point.

She circled a particular spot on the line when a head popped out from the study doorway.

“We’re planning an outdoor party, Lan. Are you free in the next few days? We need to prepare some things.”

Lan Xiao glanced at her schedule. “I don’t have any part-time shifts scheduled for the next few days, so I should be free.”

The girl gave an OK sign. “Then I won’t bother you any longer. I’m about to head back. See you tomorrow.”

“Goodbye.”

After the girl left, others came by to say goodbye one by one. Lan Xiao responded to each of them. The last to come was Wendy.

Her eyes seemed to speak volumes as she lingered, her gaze filled with reluctance. “Lan, see you tomorrow, okay?”

Lan Xiao felt a familiar wave of helplessness wash over her. She almost wished Wendy would act like the other white girls, showering her with sweet talk and date invitations. That way, she could reject them without any guilt.

A simple, obedient “See you tomorrow, okay?” left Lan Xiao with absolutely no room to refuse.

She could only nod and say, “Okay.”

Pu Mengyu crossed her arms, watching the spectacle from the sidelines. As the door closed, she tapped her wrist, indicating it was past midnight.

“Out of options now, huh?”

Lan Xiao’s face fell, and she muttered, “Headache.”

“Well, you’ll just have to deal with it. I can’t help you there.”

Pu Mengyu turned to round up the people sprawled haphazardly on the floor, like a mother duck herding her ducklings. “Wake up, everyone! The futons are ready. Sleeping on the floor will give you a chill.”

The group groggily followed her, Lan Xiao supporting one who nearly fell asleep on his feet and helping guide the others.

By the time everyone was settled and asleep, it was well past midnight.

Lan Xiao burrowed under her blanket, yawned, and quickly drifted off to sleep.

As the city slumbered, a cold, emotionless voice, devoid of any memory or context, suddenly echoed through the night:

Storyline deviation detected. Correcting…