I Married My Heartless Ex-Wife’s Black Lotus Sister - Chapter 67

“She’s as beautiful as A-Xue—kind, upright, and pure. Now she’s grown into an elegant young woman, as talented as she is graceful.” A hint of pride flickered in Ji Wushuang’s eyes. “Your An Chenglun isn’t even fit to tie her shoes compared to the gifts A-Xue and I have given her.”

“An Xian, you schemed your whole life, even at the cost of your own downfall, only to end up trapping yourself in your own web. All your efforts were in vain.”

Ji Wushuang slowly rose to her feet. “This ends here, An Xian.”

“I will avenge A-Xue.”

“No!” Even though the truth had struck her hard, An Xian quickly regained her composure. Desperately, she reached out to grab Ji Wushuang’s hand. “No, Sister Wushuang, it’s not like that!”

“I only took Zheng Huai to spite you, to make you lose your temper and admit your mistakes to me. I don’t love him—really, I don’t love him at all.” Tears streamed down An Xian’s face as she pleaded. “In my eyes, he’s not even worth one of your fingers.”

Her hand grasped at empty air.

Ji Wushuang dodged swiftly, her sharp gaze cutting like a blade. Seeing this, An Xian didn’t dare move recklessly. Like a child caught misbehaving, she clasped her hands tightly in front of her, her eyes brimming with pitiful tears.

She stared helplessly at Ji Wushuang, as if hoping her pleading gaze alone could change the other’s mind.

But Ji Wushuang only found her pathetic. Hearing her excuses, she scoffed mercilessly. “Right, you don’t love him. Yet you still bore him a healthy son.”

“An Xian, is there even a single word of truth left in your mouth?”

“Everything is true…” An Xian wept as she defended herself. “Every word I’ve ever said to you is true. Just believe me this once, please? You can doubt the whole world, but you can’t doubt my love for you.”

As An Xian prepared to launch into another round of explanations, Ji Wushuang grew impatient.

She raised a hand to silence her. “Enough. I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses.”

“You killed A-Xue.” Ji Wushuang took slow steps backward. “There’s no chance for us anymore. I will never forgive you—and neither will the law.”

“Even if it’s twenty-eight years too late, I will still demand justice for her, so she can rest in peace.”

With those final words, Ji Wushuang turned away, unwilling to look at An Xian any longer. She quickened her pace and strode out of the café. An Xian tried to chase after her, but Song Lin burst in with the police, immediately restraining her. “Stay still!”

At Song Lin’s sharp command, cold steel handcuffs clamped around An Xian’s wrists.

At first, An Xian struggled violently. But when Ji Wushuang’s figure disappeared completely from sight, she seemed to realize her last chance had slipped away. Slowly, her thrashing ceased. Defeated, she allowed Song Lin to lead her to the police car, her spirit utterly broken.

It couldn’t be. An Xian refused to believe it.

How could she have lost? How could she have failed to hold onto even one person’s heart?

Her sister had been dead for so many years—why was she still no match for her?

What made her so much better?!

An Xian wanted to scream hysterically, but when she opened her mouth, no sound came out. All she could manage was a low, guttural growl, a raw expression of her resentment and unwillingness.

Zheng Yili hadn’t eavesdropped on Ji Wushuang and An Xian’s conversation. She had stayed far away.

Yet even so, she could discern fragments of their interaction through the slightly reflective glass—the tension in their movements and the expressions on their faces.

After Ji Wushuang exited the café, Zheng Yili didn’t press for details, simply accompanying her into the car. The entire ride home passed in silence, with Ji Wushuang not uttering a single word.

It wasn’t until Zheng Yili turned to leave, intending to give her mother space, that Ji Wushuang softly called out, “Yili.”

Zheng Yili paused and turned back. “Mom.”

“Come sit with me.” Ji Wushuang smiled, though her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “There are some things I need to tell you.”

A flicker of unease stirred in Zheng Yili’s heart as she quickly moved to sit beside her mother. “Go ahead.”

“A long time ago, I had a girlfriend,” Ji Wushuang stated bluntly. “She was An Xian’s elder sister—An Xue.”

“I pursued her for three whole years before she finally agreed to be with me. Back then, our relationship was wonderful, filled with deep affection and intimacy.” A tender smile deepened on Ji Wushuang’s face. “Having such a lovely partner inspired me to work hard, to learn company management from your grandparents so I could make her the dazzling Mrs. Ji.”

“But…” Her smile abruptly stiffened, her voice dropping low. “But it was precisely because I was working that I missed her call—the one that could have saved her. Because of that, she died young, her life cut tragically short.”

Ji Wushuang’s gaze drifted emptily toward the sky. “All these years, I’ve never been able to forgive myself. That’s why I resisted stepping into the company, always insisting on handing over your grandparents’ legacy to you.”

“Mom…” Zheng Yili turned and gently embraced her.

Ji Wushuang patted her shoulder reassuringly. “It’s alright. Now that I know the truth behind An Xue’s death, I’ll live well—long enough to see the person responsible pay for what they did.”

The implication in her words was unmistakable, and Zheng Yili quickly connected it to An Xian, who had already been taken into custody by Song Lin.

Before Zheng Yili could speak, Ji Wushuang straightened slightly and ruffled her hair with a smile. “Zheng Huai isn’t your biological father. He was just someone I hired to manage the company.”

“Once you graduated and came of age, capable of running the business smoothly, I planned to pass everything to you. I never imagined An Xian would be so ruthless—willing to kill the man she’d shared a bed with for years.”

“If not for her, you could have learned so much more from Zheng Huai. You wouldn’t have been thrust into this position so abruptly.”

As Zheng Yili listened, a storm of emotions raged within her.

So that was it. That explained everything.

Her eyes stung slightly, never having imagined the truth could be so simple.

In her past life, Zheng Huai’s sudden departure had subjected her to immense suffering and injustice. Yet now Ji Wushuang was telling her none of that had been necessary.

If not for An Xian—yes, An Xian was the root of it all.

Had she not caused An Xue’s death, the company wouldn’t have become Ji Wushuang’s place of sorrow, Zheng Huai wouldn’t have appeared, and An Xian wouldn’t have had the opportunity to kill Zheng Huai too. Then she wouldn’t have been able to bring An Chenglun into the family, taking advantage of Ji Wushuang’s confused state to forcibly legitimize An Chenglun’s identity and register him under the Zheng family name.

Zheng Yili suddenly found it all bitterly ironic, but these feelings of irony quickly dissolved when she saw the profound sadness in Ji Wushuang’s eyes.

In their past life, Ji Wushuang had suffered even more than she did.

Ji Wushuang had died early at the hands of Lin Xiaoxiao before she could uncover the truth about her girlfriend’s death, never knowing that the murderer had not only taken everything from her parents but also ultimately caused her daughter to lose her life…

Speaking of which, Zheng Yili suddenly thought of her own origins. “Mom, then who exactly am I…” She paused briefly, “Whose child am I?”

There was a hint of nervousness in Zheng Yili’s voice. Ji Wushuang looked up and smiled, “You’re mine and A’Xue’s child.”

“Yili, you were our long-awaited precious daughter. Everyone was looking forward to your arrival. Had A’Xue not left so soon, she could have watched you come into this world with her own eyes and raised you together with me.”

“Your other mother was different from me. She was gentle, beautiful, quiet by nature, and extremely considerate and attentive—much more reliable than me.” Ji Wushuang chuckled self-deprecatingly. “I know I haven’t been the most reliable mother these years, but you understand.”

She shrugged slightly, “I inherited your grandparents’ personality—carefree, thick-skinned, and slow to react.”

“You’re just like me in that regard.”

Yes, the Zheng Yili of the past had been just like Ji Wushuang—painfully slow and dull.

Protected so well by Ji Wushuang, Zheng Yili’s world had never known the twisted schemes of others. Until An Xian appeared and gave her naive self a harsh lesson.

Zheng Yili slowly lowered her eyelashes, having made up her mind. “Mom, you should rest now. I need to go to the police station to give Song Lin some instructions.”

Ji Wushuang was already exhausted and didn’t protest, nodding in agreement. “Be careful on the road.”

“Okay.”

After driving from home to the police station, Zheng Yili went straight to see An Xian.

An Xian had been in a daze, still reeling from multiple blows. But when she saw Zheng Yili, she suddenly burst into laughter. “I calculated everything, yet in the end, I fell to you.”

“If I’d known this would happen, I should never have let you be born. Even if you were born, I should never have let you grow up.”

The woman before her was snarling, her face contorted, bearing no resemblance to her usual composed and elegant self.

Zheng Yili’s lips curled slightly as she fired back without mercy: “Perhaps it was Mother A’Xue watching over me from heaven. Thanks to her protection, I managed to escape your schemes and survive.”

Hearing her own sister’s name, An Xian stood up abruptly, agitated. “Ridiculous! You actually believe such childish nonsense?”

“Zheng Yili, let me tell you—this time I lost, but you didn’t win either.” She lifted her chin arrogantly. “Did you know? That enviable ex-fiancée of yours, Song Qi’an, was someone I sent Lin Xiaoxiao to seduce.”

“Originally, the two of you were childhood sweethearts, a match made in heaven—perfect for each other. If not for Lin Xiaoxiao, you could have smoothly walked into the halls of matrimony, treating each other with respect and courtesy.”

“But what a pity—she couldn’t resist temptation.”

“Losing the one you’ve loved for years must have been agonizing, unbearable, like living death, hasn’t it?”

“I thought you’d collapse under the blow, wallowing in self-destruction. Yet to my surprise, you detached yourself even faster than I imagined.” As she spoke, An Xian’s voice suddenly took on a gnashing tone. “That new target of yours, Song Yanqing, is quite something—cold, heartless, utterly unmoved by feminine charms.”

“I’ve sent over a dozen women her way, and not a single one managed to catch her eye or succeed…”