The Villainess Is Pretending to Be Sweet Again Today (Transmigration) - Chapter 3

The ambulance arrived quickly, taking both Long Huaichang and the woman who called, Nuo Yang, away. Although the onlookers were curious, they were no strangers to such incidents happening in funeral parlors.

After all, who hasn’t seen someone faint at least once?

But…wait, it’s already the third day—isn’t fainting now a bit of a delayed reaction?

At the hospital, they were sent straight to the emergency room. The doctor informed Nuo Yang that Long Huaichang was running a dangerously high fever. After administering an injection and prescribing IV fluids, the doctor instructed Nuo Yang to go outside and complete the paperwork.

Even at night, the emergency room was packed. Watching Long Huaichang’s  flushed face from the fever, Nuo Yang couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity.

What’s wrong with this girl? Running a fever of over 40°C and not saying a word, just sitting there in the funeral parlor.

If Nuo Yang hadn’t taken the initiative to check on her, she might have ended up with brain damage from the fever.

Still, Nuo Yang knew that villains weren’t so easily defeated—at least, not before encountering the protagonist of this story.

After piecing things together over the past few days, Nuo Yang had roughly deduced that she was currently in the gap between the epilogue of the previous heroine’s story and the introduction of the next one.

Doing the math, the previous heroine’s daughter would be just starting elementary school around now. It would take another decade or so before she could cross paths with Nuo Yang, and even longer—until the daughter entered university—before she’d interact with Long Huai Chang.

By then, Long Huaichang would have become a ruthless woman, only to fall head over heels for the pure and adorable new heroine.

But now, the woman who could single-handedly crush entire economic networks lay weak and vulnerable before her. Nuo Yang found it all a little surreal.

After receiving a fever-reducing injection and three IV bags, Long Huaichang finally stirred awake around 11 p.m.

Her dark eyes wandered across the unfamiliar ceiling, momentarily disoriented.

She was confused—shouldn’t she still be sitting in her mother’s funeral parlor? How did she end up here?

The sharp scent of disinfectant and the noisy surroundings made her turn her head slightly.

Her gaze fell on the white medical curtains, the bright fluorescent lights, and the woman slumped asleep beside her bed…

Long Huaichang didn’t move. She simply watched Nuo Yang with an inscrutable expression.

The woman seemed uncomfortable in her sleep, her brows slightly furrowed.

Her fair cheeks bore faint red marks from being pressed against her arms, and since she’d been fidgeting, both sides of her face were equally imprinted.

Then Long Huaichang remembered.

The last person she saw before passing out was this woman.

She must have been the one who brought her to the hospital.

Long Huaichang averted her gaze and lifted her arm, feeling the cold sting of the IV needle against her skin.

At least she was still alive.

She had sat in her mother’s funeral parlor for three days without a single visitor…

But at least one kind soul had taken the trouble to send her to the hospital.

Sitting up, she still felt weak. She hadn’t realized she was running a fever—she’d thought it was just grief weighing her down.

“Mmm…”

The movement must have disturbed the woman at her bedside. Nuo Yang frowned, slowly blinking awake.

“You’re up?” Nuo Yang straightened, rubbing her eyes before wincing and dropping her hands with a groan. “Ugh…my arm’s asleep…”

Long Huaichang spoke calmly, “Thank you for bringing me to the hospital.”

Nuo Yang gave her a puzzled look and asked, “How did you know it was me who brought you here?”

Long Huaichang lowered her head and didn’t respond.

Faced with the cold indifference of this future antagonist, Nuo Yang rubbed her shoulders, deciding not to take it personally.

“Are you hungry?” Nuo Yang smiled. “I’ll go buy you some porridge. You haven’t eaten in a long time.”

At the mention of food, Long Huaichang’s  stomach growled, making her flush with embarrassment.

But she really was starving.

Nuo Yang went to a porridge shop outside the hospital and, remembering she disliked vinegar, asked the vendor to skip any unusual seasonings—just plain salted porridge would do.

At half past midnight, Long Huaichang finally had her first proper meal in days.

Watching her quietly eat, Nuo Yang said, “Your fever’s gone down a bit. Rest here tonight, and we’ll head back to the cemetery tomorrow.”

Long Huaichang paused before nodding. “Alright.”

Seeing her eat without another word, Nuo Yang figured her future cold demeanor must have been ingrained since childhood.

When Nuo Yang packed up to leave, Long Huaichang didn’t say a thing.

The emergency hall bustled with people, still crowded even past midnight.

As a man lifted the white partition curtain, Long Huaichang looked up at him.

The man appeared to be in his twenties, young and sharp. Glancing at Nuo Yang’s retreating figure, he took her seat and asked, “Xiao Huai, how are you feeling?”

Long Huaichang hesitated before replying, “It’s you.”

The visitor was her cousin, a member of the Long family who had been living overseas.

Long Yingjun studied his younger sister and said, “I wanted to come as soon as I heard about Auntie’s passing, but the main family wouldn’t allow it. I’m truly sorry.”

Long Huaichang stayed silent for a long moment, seemingly unimpressed by his excuse.

“The main family still refuses to divide the inheritance with you,” Long Yingjun continued. “But you’re only sixteen. The frozen assets will be released once you come of age, so just endure for two more years. Don’t stubbornly oppose the family.”

“Really?”

Long Huaichang lifted her gaze, her youthful face twisting into a sneer far beyond her years. “Weren’t you all convinced I, as the illegitimate child, didn’t deserve a share? You drove my mother to hang herself. Why the sudden kindness?”

Long Ying Jun’s face darkened instantly. “Your mother was the mistress. She had no right to the inheritance, and she chose to kill herself. That’s hardly our fault.”

“So you came to persuade me to give up my claim too?”

Long Huaichang’s  voice remained eerily calm. “I may only be sixteen, but what’s mine will stay mine.”

“Two years,” she told him. “You’ve got two more years of freedom. After that, I’ll send every last one of you to prison—where you’ll wish you were dead.”

Despite the venom in her words, she delivered them with unsettling detachment, as casually as if she were discussing a trip to the market.

Long Yingjun gave a cold, angry laugh, his face unusually grim. He stood up abruptly, pointing at Long Huaichang’s  nose and said, “You little brat, you’d better have what it takes to live to adulthood.”

With that, he turned and left without another glance at Long Huai Chang.

When Nuo Yang returned from taking out the trash, she passed by a few people. Somehow, she instinctively knew who they were—one of the Long family’s male members, an insignificant character with a casually given name. Rumor had it he was a notorious playboy, with a nominal wife and hundreds of backups, who would eventually be sent to prison for life by Long Huai Chang.

Watching the man’s retreating figure, Nuo Yang tilted her head in confusion.

What a coincidence? Was the playboy here for a hospital visit too?

She wondered which department he was visiting.

By the time Nuo Yang returned to the hospital bed, Long Huaichang had already curled up under the covers to sleep. Not wanting to disturb her, Nuo Yang simply tucked her in before yawning and falling asleep beside the bed.

——————

Early the next morning, it was Long Huaichang who woke Nuo Yang up.

Long Huaichang had always been a light sleeper, but perhaps due to exhaustion from the days of keeping vigil, she had slept deeply the night before. When she woke, it was already seven or eight in the morning.

Yet the person who had slept by her bedside was still sound asleep.

Long Huaichang couldn’t understand how anyone could sleep so soundly in such an uncomfortable position.

“I’m going back to the cemetery today,” Long Huaichang said to Nuo Yang. “Call a car for me.”

Still groggy, Nuo Yang didn’t respond immediately, instead yawning and reaching out to press her hand against Long Huaichang’s  forehead.

Sitting on the bed, Long Huaichang had no way to dodge and was caught off guard, her face instantly flushing red.

“You—!”

“Hmm, you still seem a bit feverish?”

Long Huaichang awkwardly replied, “I’m fine now.”

“Really?” Nuo Yang didn’t believe her. Pressing one hand against the bed and the other against the back of Long Huaichang’s  head, she leaned in and pressed her forehead against hers.

Long Huaichang’s vision blurred momentarily, and then Nuo Yang’s face was unbearably close—her pink lips just inches away, the faint scent of her filling Long Huaichang’s  nostrils.

Her heart went wild, pounding violently against her chest as if trying to break free!

“You’re not completely fever-free yet.”

Nuo Yang rubbed their foreheads together before sitting back with a sigh. “I’ll call a nurse to check your temperature. We’ll leave once we’re sure the fever’s gone.”

Without waiting for a response, she got up and headed for the nurse’s station.

Long Huaichang’s  cheeks burned crimson as she clutched the sheets tightly.

What the hell is wrong with this woman?!

They weren’t even close—how could she just press their foreheads together like that?!

Her heart still racing, Long Huaichang clenched her fists, torn between embarrassment and frustration.

When the nurse came to check her temperature, Long Huaichang refused to look at Nuo Yang, keeping her face turned away sternly, leaving Nuo Yang puzzled about whether she’d done something wrong.

Though the fever had subsided, Long Huaichang was still weak. Nuo Yang called a car, and they returned to the cemetery before nine.

Prayers, cremation, burial.

The entire day was spent in a flurry of activity. By the time Nuo Yang realized it, Long Huaichang had already disappeared without a trace.

Looking at Xiao Bailian’s simple grave, there was nothing in front of the tombstone except a bouquet of flowers.

Oh well.

Nuo Yang took a deep breath. After all, she and Long Huaichang would never meet again, so there was no need to care so much about that child anymore.