Transmigrated As The Villainous Scumbag Wife Of A Disabled Tycoon - Chapter 17
17
Cheng Xing’s palms, gripping the wheelchair, were soaked with clammy sweat, the slick sensation making her slightly uncomfortable.
But what made her even more uneasy was being in the same space as Jiang Ciyi.
At this moment, Jiang Ciyi had her eyes lowered, her expression blank, as if the person who had just spoken wasn’t her.
Yet Cheng Xing had heard it clearly—she had called her “wife” in a soft, teasing tone.
It was as if she were playfully stirring the calm, still waters of an ancient well, turning it into a rippling spring, with waves that lingered and refused to dissipate.
The air in the elevator felt thin, leaving Cheng Xing with a sense of breathlessness.
Her breathing slowed, and just as she was about to gather her thoughts to ask for clarification, Jiang Ciyi spoke first: “I still remember our agreement. Miss Cheng, you’d better not slip up.”
Cheng Xing: “…?”
“You were acting just now?” Cheng Xing asked.
Jiang Ciyi nodded. “Your family, except for your mother, all have sharp eyes. Just a reminder—don’t mess up the performance.”
Cheng Xing: “…”
Silence lingered for a moment before the elevator doors opened.
As Cheng Xing pushed her out, she adjusted her breathing to steady herself, lowering her voice to say, “You didn’t have to act that convincingly. I almost thought you’d forgiven me.”
“Better not indulge in such daydreams.” Jiang Ciyi replied, her voice equally low.
To whisper in her ear, Cheng Xing had to bend down, her chest brushing lightly—almost imperceptibly—against Jiang Ciyi’s slender back.
Their skin occasionally grazed, fleeting and delicate.
To outsiders, it looked like intimate familiarity, as if no one else existed.
But Cheng Xing was still hung up on what had just happened. “If that was acting, Jiang Ciyi, your skills are impressive.”
A compliment laced with sarcasm.
Jiang Ciyi, unfazed, responded, “So, are you saying I shouldn’t cooperate with your little charade?”
Cheng Xing: “…Of course not.”
Jiang Ciyi raised her eyes to meet hers. Their faces were so close that the diamond necklace around Cheng Xing’s neck brushed against Jiang Ciyi’s shoulder.
A cool, faint sensation, lightly grazing her skin.
Jiang Ciyi glanced at it before looking back into her eyes.
“Then how do you want me to act?” Jiang Ciyi asked, her warm breath unintentionally grazing Cheng Xing’s cheek as she spoke.
Cheng Xing’s nose twitched, her glossy lips parting slightly, words forming but not knowing what to say.
It felt like anything she said would be wrong.
After a moment, she stepped back, straightened up, and walked forward, her gaze fixed ahead with a hint of petulance. “Do whatever you want.”
Jiang Ciyi fell silent, and after a pause, she let out a soft, seemingly casual sigh.
Cheng Xing’s heart tightened instantly. She looked down at her, but Jiang Ciyi made no further movement.
Her mind raced, replaying the earlier scene frame by frame, like a movie reel.
Finally, she understood.
Someone as sharp as Jiang Ciyi was likely just toying with her.
So, when Cheng Xing pushed her to the door, she stopped and said softly, “The act is for others to see, not just for me.”
Without waiting for Jiang Ciyi to respond, she pushed open the door.
Jiang Ciyi, seated in the wheelchair, watched her back. It was clear that after getting her little revenge, Cheng Xing’s steps were noticeably lighter.
Even without seeing her face, Jiang Ciyi could imagine her expression.
…It was hard to convince herself that the person before her was the same as the one from before.
Jiang Ciyi pursed her lips, a faint smile tugging at them before quickly fading.
Inside the door was a different world.
It was an entertainment room, filled with board games and card tables.
Cheng Zimo, who had excused himself for a supposed international conference call, was there too.
Eldest sister-in-law Qin Zhiyun was sitting by the window, brewing tea. She wore a light green cheongsam and pearl earrings, her movements graceful and imbued with an elegant Eastern charm as she poured the tea.
Meanwhile, Cheng Zijin lounged casually, legs crossed, fiddling with a mahjong tile in his hand.
Seeing Cheng Xing push Jiang Ciyi in, Cheng Zijin stood up, leaning against the table with his arms crossed. “Little sister, find a spot for you and your wife to sit.”
Cheng Xing nodded, asking what game they were playing. Cheng Zijin waved the mahjong tile in his hand. “This, of course. We were hoping Cheng Dong and Cheng Xi could stay the night, but those guys chickened out and drove off.”
Cheng Dong and Cheng Xi were the two children of Cheng Xing’s uncle.
Under the strict upbringing of the matriarch, the Cheng family adhered to rigid distinctions of hierarchy and seniority.
The eldest son, Cheng Kunshan, managed the Cheng Corporation, and naturally, the heir would be Cheng Zimo.
The second uncle, Cheng Kunqian, received some cash, properties, and a few underperforming small companies, making him little more than an idle rich second-generation.
As for the aunt, Cheng Xiuli, she had married into the equally prominent Xu family of Jianggang, giving birth to two sons, Xu Chongyu and Xu Jingyu. Both were younger than Cheng Xing—one just graduated, the other still in college. They weren’t particularly close to the original Cheng Xing, only meeting during holidays.
Cheng Xing, having transmigrated, didn’t inherit many of the original’s memories. But before coming, she had done her research online, piecing together the tangled web of relationships among Jianggang’s elite families.
As Cheng Zijin spoke, her mind flashed to the reactions of the people at the dinner table earlier.
She responded perfunctorily, then fell silent.
Cheng Zijin, used to her demeanor, didn’t press further and called for Cheng Zimo and Qin Zhiyun to join the game.
Qin Zhiyun shook her head gently. “You all play. I’m not good at cards—I’ll just make tea for you.”
“Does the little sister-in-law play?” Cheng Zijin turned to Jiang Ciyi.
Jiang Ciyi thought for a moment before nodding. “A little.”
“Then you’re playing today.” Cheng Zijin said, glancing at her legs and pausing briefly. “Do you want a chair, or are you fine staying in that?”
“Second Brother!” Cheng Xing snapped at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not bullying her.” Cheng Zijin shot her a sideways glance. “Why so sensitive? She hasn’t even said anything.”
“It’s fine.” Jiang Ciyi said, her fingers on the right side of the wheelchair, maneuvering it forward until it stopped steadily at the table. The height was slightly off, so she adjusted it upward, aligning it comfortably with the leather chairs.
Cheng Zijin couldn’t help but clap. “You’ve got that wheelchair down to an art.”
Jiang Ciyi smiled faintly. “Second Young Master Cheng flatters me.”
The back-and-forth between them seemed like old friends, but…
“You two…” Cheng Xing started, then stopped, worried they were close because of the original Cheng Xing. Asking might make her seem foolish.
After all, she was missing a lot of memories.
Jiang Ciyi picked up the conversation. “I’ve had some dealings with Mr. Cheng before.”
“When I gave you that wheelchair, I had no idea you’d end up as my sister-in-law.” Cheng Zijin said, sitting to her left and glancing at her profile. “Who would’ve thought Jianggang’s renowned forensic doctor would marry into a wealthy family?”
“What else would I marry for?” Jiang Ciyi teased, going along with his jest. “Fate, I suppose.”
Cheng Xing sat to Jiang Ciyi’s right, across from Cheng Zijin, her gaze flickering between them.
Seeing them ignore her, she muttered after a pause, “Are we playing this game or not? If we don’t start soon, it’ll be past my bedtime.”
Cheng Zimo took his seat, and Qin Zhiyun handed out tea to everyone before sitting beside Cheng Zimo to watch.
“Of course we’re playing.” Cheng Zijin said, giving her a look. “What nonsense are you spouting? It’s barely evening, and you’re talking about sleep? Usually, you’re not even out causing trouble yet.”
Cheng Xing: “…”
That was the original Cheng Xing!
“I’ve turned over a new leaf.” Cheng Xing said. “Since getting married, I’m reining it in and becoming a better person.”
“Oh?” Cheng Zijin teased. “Let’s hear how you plan to reform.”
“You’ll see.” Cheng Xing replied, not taking the bait. “Talk is cheap—actions matter.”
“I’m warning you.” Cheng Zimo said gravely from the side. “Don’t go stirring up trouble like before…”
He glanced at Jiang Ciyi. “From now on, let your wife keep you in line.”
Cheng Xing: “…”
Jiang Ciyi, handling her tiles, smoothly picked up the conversation. “I can’t control her. But if you don’t mind, I can send her to the Jianggang Police Station—they’d have more authority than me.”
Cheng Xing: “?”
Why was everyone against her?
Cheng Xing wasn’t skilled at mahjong, relying purely on luck. That night, her transmigration halo seemed to shine—she won a decent stack of chips right from the start.
By 11:30 PM, she was exhausted, yawning repeatedly. Her eyelids drooped, and she started playing her tiles haphazardly.
Cheng Zijin looked at her suspiciously. “Little sister, are you really reforming?”
Cheng Xing propped her head up with one arm, blinking sleepily with an innocent look. “Huh?”
“You never used to get tired before 2 AM.” Cheng Zijin said, his expression shifting slightly. “Don’t tell me you’re actually a different person?”
“…”
Cheng Xing’s usual routine was healthy—bed by 10 PM, asleep by 10:30. Even with deadlines or hospital internships, she stuck to it religiously.
But since arriving here, she hadn’t slept well in days!
Recalling Jiang Ciyi’s warning about the family’s sharp eyes—except for her mother—Cheng Zijin’s words startled her. For a moment, she snapped awake, but her brain soon turned to mush again.
In her daze, she thought she was back home, rubbing her face as she mumbled, “Who else could I be? I’m still Cheng Xing.”
“She just got married,” Qin Zhiyun chimed in kindly. “It’s only natural she’s tired.”
“Exactly.” Cheng Xing agreed groggily. “Second Brother, you’ve never been married—you wouldn’t know how exhausting it is.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, Jiang Ciyi tapped her leg under the table. Cheng Xing shot her a resentful look.
Jiang Ciyi gave Cheng Zijin a slight, apologetic nod.
“A newlywed couple still in their honeymoon phase should rest early.” Qin Zhiyun said with an ambiguous smile.
Cheng Xing stood up. “See you tomorrow. Bye, everyone~”
Despite yawning nonstop, she remembered to push Jiang Ciyi out.
As soon as they entered the room, Jiang Ciyi said, “Cheng’s girlfriend died in an accident at home last year. I performed the autopsy.”
Cheng Xing froze for a few seconds before jolting upright. “You’re saying my second brother’s girlfriend is dead?”
Jiang Ciyi nodded. “Be careful, Cheng Xing.”
Cheng Xing: “…”
Her sleepiness vanished, and every word spoken at the table flooded back into her mind.
Cheng Xing stared intently at Jiang Ciyi.
After a long pause, she asked, “You already have your answer, don’t you?”
Jiang Ciyi said calmly, “I can help you.”
“What’s the condition?” Cheng Xing asked, feigning composure.
“Help me find the real culprit behind the car accident.” Jiang Ciyi said. “Use every resource you have.”
Cheng Xing: “…”
The real culprit was standing right in front of her!
The room’s atmosphere grew tense. Cheng Xing felt Jiang Ciyi was too sharp.
As an outstanding forensic doctor—the youngest at Jianggang Police Station, known for spotting critical clues and helping solve complex cases—her observations were meticulous, her hypotheses bold yet carefully tested. In just two days, Cheng Xing had faced her probing time and again.
Now, she stood on dangerous ground.
But this condition…
Cheng Xing forced a smile, playing dumb. “You’re my wife. Even if you don’t help me, I’d still help you find the real culprit.”
Jiang Ciyi looked at her. “You know I’m not talking about the hit-and-run driver. There’s someone behind them.”
“You mean a hired hit?” Cheng Xing paused, her gaze wavering. “That seems unlikely, doesn’t it?”
Jiang Ciyi stared at her, then let out a soft scoff. “The one who hired them… it wouldn’t be you, would it, Cheng Xing?”