Transmigrated As The Villainous Scumbag Wife Of A Disabled Tycoon - Chapter 1
1
A stifling heat enveloped her body, her heart pounding faster than usual.
It was as if she were trapped in a furnace, surrounded by a cacophony of jarring noises that made her head throb with pain.
Cheng Xing summoned all her strength to break free from the haze, slowly opening her eyes.
Her glossy, lychee-like eyes shimmered faintly, her lashes trembling slightly, carrying a trace of groggy disorientation.
Her eyelids felt glued shut, refusing to open fully despite several attempts. But the scene before her was so shocking that, to jolt herself awake, she pinched her thigh hard.
“Hiss~”
Her expression didn’t change, but the pain was real.
She snapped into clarity.
Before she could make sense of her situation, a young woman approached her, dressed in a pink spaghetti-strap crop top and silver sequined hot pants so short they barely covered more than men’s boxer briefs, faintly revealing the curve of her hips.
A slender arm, delicate as a fish’s tail, draped over Cheng Xing’s shoulder, hooking around her neck. The overpowering scent of perfume invaded her nostrils.
Cheng Xing, who couldn’t stand the smell of perfume, sneezed involuntarily.
The woman, with her lithe figure, clung to Cheng Xing like a parasitic vine. Even as Cheng Xing sneezed, unable to dodge in time, spraying droplets into the air, the woman showed no trace of disgust. She still leaned in with a radiant smile, her bold red lips pouting as she cooed in a syrupy voice, “Miss Cheng~”
As she moved to kiss Cheng Xing’s cheek, Cheng Xing instinctively dodged and pushed her away, springing to her feet.
The woman, caught off guard, collapsed onto the sofa. The blaring DJ music slowed as Cheng Xing stood.
Cheng Xing’s gaze swept the room. The dim lighting made it hard to count the crowd, but there were both men and women, their hair dyed in garish colors, reminiscent of a 1990s Northeast China disco.
A voice from somewhere in the crowd chuckled, “Cheng Xing, ready to show us your prey?”
Someone else jeered, “Heard you married a real beauty. Bring her out for a look!”
“She’s in a wheelchair—how good-looking can she be?”
“You don’t get it. A beauty looks good even in rags.”
“I’d rather see her without the wheelchair, crawling on the floor.”
“Man, you’re savage~”
“…”
The crowd bantered back and forth, their words incomprehensible to Cheng Xing.
She had just graduated from her master’s program and secured a residency at a traditional Chinese medicine hospital. After a call from her grandfather, she was preparing to head home, take a shower, and get ready for a family dinner.
Though called a family dinner, Cheng Xing knew it was also her engagement banquet.
The irony? She had only met her fiancé three times.
Once, as a naive child visiting her hometown during the New Year; another time in middle school, when he and his family came over for dinner, but they only exchanged brief greetings; and most recently, while she was swamped with her thesis, her mother called to say there was a family emergency.
When Cheng Xing returned home, she was greeted by her father’s cold corpse.
At some point, her father had become addicted to gambling—first sports betting, then online card games. He lost over two million yuan, and when he ran out of money, he borrowed from loan sharks, the debt snowballing to over five million with interest.
The loan sharks came knocking, and her father jumped into the Qingshui River by their home.
By the time they found him, his body had been in the water for three days, bloated into a grotesque “giant view,” a horrific sight.
His death didn’t erase the debt.
He left behind a wife and daughter, so the creditors hounded them, using every tactic, even threatening to make a scene at Cheng Xing’s school.
Her grandparents and maternal family scraped together just over two million yuan.
In the end, the Su family stepped in, referencing a childhood betrothal made in a drunken moment by their parents’ generation. If Cheng Xing married the Su family’s eldest son, they would cover her father’s debts.
As an only child, all eyes fell on her.
She agreed to the marriage.
She didn’t know why the Su family made such an offer, but late one night, her mother spoke candidly, saying the Su family was doing them a great favor. The Su family was now a renowned pharmaceutical giant, unlike their own obscure family.
By marrying into the Su family, Cheng Xing would fulfill one of her mother’s greatest wishes.
That night, Cheng Xing lay awake until 5 a.m., listening to her mother’s steady breathing. She never voiced the truth—that she actually liked women.
But with life pushing her to this point, whether she liked men or women seemed irrelevant.
The priority was survival.
Cheng Xing had always been more mature and perceptive than her peers. Suppressing the reluctance deep in her heart, she carried on as if nothing had changed.
Even at her father’s funeral, her eyes only reddened; she shed barely a tear.
People called her cold-hearted and unfeeling.
Cheng Xing brushed it off, simply living with more determination than before.
Just as she had accepted her reality, she booked a ride on her phone and crossed the street to catch it. As she followed the crowd at the green light, a yellow Ferrari came out of nowhere, speeding through the red light and crashing straight into her.
The pain of her body shattering overwhelmed her in an instant, her organs feeling crushed together.
As Cheng Xing felt herself slipping away, her first thought was: I’ll never forgive you rich bastards!!
Yet when she opened her eyes again, she was in this bizarre, chaotic place.
When uncertain of her circumstances, Cheng Xing’s instinct was to stay silent.
She forced herself to endure her physical discomfort, her expression neutral as she scanned the crowd. Habitually, she grabbed a jacket from beside the sofa, ignored their chatter, and headed for the exit.
Her gut told her this was a bar.
Where else would you find such garish, dim lighting?
But as she took a step, someone grabbed her arm.
Cheng Xing instinctively pulled away—she’d never been comfortable with physical contact since school—and turned to face the person.
It was a sharp-featured woman with long, narrow eyes that flicked upward in a dismissive glance. “Nei hai bin dou?” she asked in fluent Cantonese.
Cheng Xing froze slightly. She’d noticed earlier that the crowd’s speech wasn’t pure Mandarin, occasionally laced with Cantonese. Even their Mandarin had a distinct accent, unlike her Northern Chinese dialect.
Her maternal grandmother was from Guangdong, so Cheng Xing understood basic Cantonese. The woman was asking, “Where are you going?”
Cheng Xing was baffled. Why was she here?
Shouldn’t she be dead?
Even if she wasn’t, she shouldn’t be in a place like this, feeling this way. Her body burned with a heat that felt like a mix of an aphrodisiac and alcohol.
Her first instinct was to take a cold shower to cool her body and clear her mind.
She locked eyes with the woman, but the woman cursed under her breath, “Damn it, Cheng Xing, are you crazy? Are you really going to drag your wife out for these people to gawk at? Have you no shame? Forgot the promises you made to her grandmother before the wedding?”
The woman’s scolding shifted to standard Mandarin, even with a hint of a Beijing accent.
But… a wife?
Sure, Cheng Xing liked women, but she wasn’t at the point of marrying one, was she?
She’d never even been in a relationship.
If this was a dream, it was far too vivid.
Cheng Xing cleared her throat and said softly, “No.”
“Bullshit,” the woman scoffed, pulling a cigarette from her pocket.
She flicked open a silver lighter with a snap, her red lips closing around the cigarette. As it lit, a faint orange scent wafted out. A silver bracelet adorned her slender wrist, her shirt sleeves rolled up, exuding a rebellious charm. In a husky voice, she continued in Cantonese, “If you didn’t want to marry her, you shouldn’t have. You went through all that effort to marry her, so treat her right. Marrying her just to treat her like a toy—what’s that about?”
She glanced at the crowd, her eyes dripping with disdain. “Look at these people. Are they worth you groveling, Miss Cheng? Have you lost your mind?”
Someone in the crowd shot back, “Miss Su, what do you mean by ‘these people’?”
“You know exactly what I mean,” Su replied coldly, her gaze arrogant and dismissive. Too lazy to argue further, she stubbed out her cigarette and warned Cheng Xing, “I’m putting it out there: I’m protecting her. If you bring her down from upstairs today, I’m taking her away.”
As the woman spoke, Cheng Xing finally pieced together her situation.
She had transmigrated into a book!
Specifically, into a yuri novel called Pampered Disabled Wife, as the cannon-fodder antagonist who shared her name.
In the story, the original Cheng Xing fell in love with the female lead, Jiang Ciyi, at first sight on the street. She orchestrated a car accident that left Jiang Ciyi disabled, then swooped in to “comfort” her during her despair, using underhanded means to marry her. After the marriage, she discovered Jiang Ciyi had a white moonlight and, in a jealous rage, tormented and abused her.
Later, Jiang Ciyi was revealed to be the long-lost daughter of a wealthy family and met her destined partner, a perfect match in every way. Together, the couple took down the villainous Cheng Xing, who met a miserable end.
…
Even though Cheng Xing was usually calm in crises, her expression now was grim.
She’d dreamed of being a rich second-generation, but not a criminal!
The original Cheng Xing’s actions, in the real world, would land her in jail for years.
Cheng Xing finally understood the crowd’s argument.
Tonight’s party was organized by the original Cheng Xing, who had bragged to her shady friends about showing off her “disabled beauty.” They’d been carousing in the newlywed house all night, drinking heavily, and now it was time to drag out the bride, locked in the attic, for humiliation.
In the book, this night was a sleepless torment for Jiang Ciyi, fueling her desire to tear the original Cheng Xing apart.
Cheng Xing thought to herself, Good thing it hasn’t happened yet.
Not a catastrophic start.
Feigning calm, she coughed lightly. “I’m tired tonight. Let’s call it a day.”
Someone in the crowd jeered, “Oh, scared of Miss Su, are we?”
“Come on, everyone knows the Cheng and Su families are tight. Miss Cheng’s just giving Su some face.”
“If Su Manchun were here, Cheng Xing would do whatever she says.”
“…”
The crowd egged each other on, loving the drama. Su Lengyue shot them a cold glance. “Enough. Shut your filthy mouths.”
Su Manchun was Su Lengyue’s biological sister. Years ago, rumors swirled that Cheng Xing was utterly devoted to her, following her every whim.
Just when everyone thought Cheng Xing would marry Su Manchun, Su Manchun left to study abroad.
Then, Cheng Xing swiftly married the unknown Jiang Ciyi.
Everyone was waiting for the drama to unfold, but Cheng Xing’s body was reaching its limit. Relying on the original’s memories, she snapped, “Sister Zhou, see the guests out.”
Cheng Xing practically stumbled up to the attic, her face flushed unnaturally, her body breaking out in red patches, pushed to its breaking point.
But for the sake of her future, she had to free Jiang Ciyi from the attic to prove her innocence.
The attic door had two locks: a keyed gate and a combination lock. Cheng Xing’s hair was soaked with sweat, her appearance likely a mess.
Opening the door, she leaned against it and said softly, “Jiang Ciyi, you’re free.”
It had been ten days since the original Cheng Xing locked Jiang Ciyi in the attic. She could only imagine Jiang Ciyi’s state—barely surviving on minimal water, likely too weak to escape.
Cheng Xing bit her lip, forcing herself to stay rational. “I want to let you go now, but I’m out of strength. I swear I mean you well. Tomorrow, when I’m better, I’ll let you go. Divorce, do whatever you want.”
After her rapid assurances, she turned to look inside.
As expected, the gray walls felt like a prison, cold and lifeless. But Jiang Ciyi wasn’t as Cheng Xing had imagined.
The fair-skinned woman’s hair fell softly over her shoulders, her porcelain skin glowing as if dusted with moonlight. She wore white wide-leg pants, her legs resting quietly on a silver wheelchair. Her shoulders were delicate, her posture straight, her slender neck swan-like, and her closed eyes gave her a serene air, like a living Barbie doll.
For a moment, Cheng Xing was mesmerized.
“Beauty” didn’t do her justice—she was like an ethereal fairy, untouched by the mundane world.
Just looking at her made Cheng Xing’s bl00d surge, and she swallowed hard.
Gulp—
In the silent attic, every sound was amplified. Cheng Xing quickly added, “I… I’ve studied some medicine. I can help treat your legs.”
But the next second, the fairy opened her eyes. They sparkled like cold diamonds, her fox-like eyes flashing with icy disdain. Her voice was equally frigid: “Get out.”
Cheng Xing: “…”
Are all fairies this temperamental?