Transmigrated As The Villainous Scumbag Wife Of A Disabled Tycoon - Chapter 2

2

Immediately, the sound of playful laughter filled the empty, quiet attic.

Cheng Xing followed the sound and looked up, noticing that the wall above her head, directly facing Jiang Ciyi, had an 80-inch LCD screen hanging on it. The high-definition feed was broadcasting the scene downstairs.

Although she had instructed the housekeeper, Sister Zhou, to see the guests out, there were still some who lingered, reluctant to leave.

A young, beautiful girl stood in the living room, pestering Sister Zhou. She laughed lightly, dropping ambiguous hints about her unclear relationship with Cheng Xing. Her words were deliberately suggestive, but Sister Zhou remained stone-faced, calling for someone to escort the girls out.

After a while, the living room finally fell silent. The bright lights illuminated the entire space, and with the garish, nightclub-like lighting gone, the hall’s overall structure became clear.

The glossy tiled floor was littered with cream and streamers. Suddenly, a bizarre, surreal scene flashed through Cheng Xing’s mind—

A figure holding a glass of red wine, swaying back and forth, downing the drink in one gulp in the arms of a young woman. A creamy white cake was pushed forward, and someone smeared cake on her face. Then, under the guise of a game, a tongue licked off the sweet cream, and she seemed to revel in it.

No, that wasn’t her.

Cheng Xing was certain—she was not someone who frequented nightclubs.

She could never flit about like a social butterfly, effortlessly enjoying herself in such a place.

That was the original host.

Next, the original host, caught up in the excitement, ignored the reactions of those around her. She chugged an entire bottle of wine, then mischievously forced another bottle on the woman beside her. Her behavior was crude, but everyone cheered her on.

Amid the applause, the original host lost herself, laughing as she grabbed the microphone. “Ever heard of Jianggang University?”

Someone chimed in, “Who here doesn’t know? Isn’t that the most famous school in Jianggang?”

“There’s a gorgeous girl in the forensic science department at Jianggang University. I even went to check her out—she’s stunning.”

“Sister Cheng, are you going to study at Jianggang University? Congrats!”

“…”

By now, the drugs had taken hold of the original host. Her eyes were glassy with a dazed smile as she boasted in fluent Cantonese, “That gorgeous girl is mine.”

The crowd erupted in cheers.

The original host grinned carelessly, peeling off her T-shirt to reveal a black tank top. A red vine tattoo with vivid, seductive flowers adorned her arm, giving her a reckless, uninhibited air. “It’s just a pity her legs are useless. It’s not even fun to mess with her.”

“Sister Cheng, we’ll make it fun for you,” someone responded. “Guaranteed to make you feel amazing.”

This group was unrestrained, their banter crude and shameless, heedless of the crowd around them.

Someone even stripped down to their bright-colored underwear.

But the original host said, “You’re not as pretty as her, though. She’s the campus beauty of Jianggang University’s Class of ’17. In a bit, I’ll bring her down for everyone to see what a disabled beauty looks like.”

“Get a dog cage ready for her, and some food. I’ve been keeping her locked in the attic like a dog.”

The room roared with laughter.

The memory cut off abruptly.

Cheng Xing’s body still burned with heat, but her heart turned cold, as if doused with icy water in the dead of winter.

A chilling clarity, yet her heart raced.

The large screen above her head was a glaring reminder—Jiang Ciyi had seen everything!

…

Damn.

A hellish start.

Cheng Xing had no time to dwell on it. She struggled, closing her eyes briefly, and leaned against the door, sliding down slowly to conserve her strength. She tried to explain to Jiang Ciyi in a soft voice, “Don’t look at me like that. I…”

Her body was too restless, making it impossible to finish a full sentence.

Cheng Xing took a deep breath, mentally running through the moves of the Eight Brocades exercise, but she only got to the second move when a loud crash startled her.

The sound of a silver wheelchair colliding with the wooden floor made her shiver. She looked over to see a woman in a light-colored base layer shirt sprawled on the ground. Her fair face was flushed, and the air carried a faint, intoxicating scent of gardenia.

A fallen fairy, her eyes still sharp with defiance, radiating a fierce resilience.

If looks could kill, Cheng Xing would have died a hundred times over by now.

But her upbringing wouldn’t let her stand by idly. Despite her own weakened state, she forced herself to crawl over, intending to help Jiang Ciyi up.

Yet the closer she got, the more she was drawn to Jiang Ciyi’s scent.

The more unbearable it became for Cheng Xing, as if a seductive insect inside her was clawing to break free from the chains of reason.

The closer she got to Jiang Ciyi, the harder it was to maintain control.

Cheng Xing’s throat felt scorched. Ignoring her own disheveled state, she raised a trembling hand to help Jiang Ciyi. But as soon as her hand touched Jiang Ciyi’s arm, a flash of silver glinted, and a sharp, cold blade pressed against her wrist.

It sounded like flesh being sliced, though it might have been her imagination.

A drop of bl00d fell from Cheng Xing’s wrist.

Plop—

The sound echoed in the quiet attic, mingling with Jiang Ciyi’s uneven breathing, creating an almost bl00d-tinged, sensual atmosphere.

Cheng Xing frowned, explaining in a low voice, “I just wanted to…”

“Get away.” Jiang Ciyi said, pressing the sharp blade deeper. Cheng Xing could feel it was a deep wound, but the aphrodisiac dulled the pain.

Jiang Ciyi’s expression was icy, her eyes full of wariness, yet her body radiated heat.

Cheng Xing had spiked the water Jiang Ciyi drank today, all to revel in her humiliated state at tonight’s party.

Despite all her precautions, Jiang Ciyi had fallen for it. Now, her body screamed for release, craving an intense, unrestrained encounter. And the one person legally allowed to fulfill that desire was right in front of her.

But Cheng Xing disgusted her.

When Jiang Ciyi first met her, Cheng Xing was flamboyant and bold, showing up at the police station every day with a bouquet of red roses, waiting tirelessly no matter how late Jiang Ciyi worked. She’d drive her for late-night meals and take her home.

Friends had warned her: a playgirl like Cheng Xing, flitting through nightlife like a butterfly, could never settle down.

Jiang Ciyi had prepared for a long time to reject Cheng Xing’s pursuit.

But then disaster struck. A freak accident left her legs paralyzed, costing her a chance to be sent to the capital. Unable to perform autopsies during her recovery, she became a shell of herself.

Yet Cheng Xing stayed by her side, day after day, even handling her grandmother’s funeral single-handedly.

In the end, Jiang Ciyi relented and agreed to marry her, only to discover Cheng Xing’s true colors after their engagement.

Cheng Xing mocked her disability, turning her into a laughingstock and a plaything.

Locked in the attic for ten days, Jiang Ciyi’s heart grew colder with each passing day.

Before, she had only wanted to divorce Cheng Xing and cut all ties.

But tonight, trapped in this cold attic, watching the screen broadcast Cheng Xing’s laughter as she waved her hand and declared she’d throw her—the “stray dog” locked in the attic—out to be humiliated by the crowd, Jiang Ciyi’s hatred surged. She wanted nothing more than to drag Cheng Xing down with her.

But the drug’s effect was too strong. Even wielding her familiar scalpel, she couldn’t strike with precision. Still, she maintained a calm facade. “Stay away from me.”

She didn’t know what trick Cheng Xing was playing, but whenever she got close, Jiang Ciyi’s body grew weaker.

And yet, Cheng Xing had bared her fangs, only to walk in moments ago claiming she’d set her free.

Hah, as if.

Cheng Xing was a liar, and Jiang Ciyi wouldn’t believe a single punctuation mark from her ever again.

Jiang Ciyi clenched her other hand into a fist, her gaze burning as she stared at Cheng Xing. “Take me to the hospital.”

Cheng Xing felt powerless too. She was sweating so much she could practically bathe in it, her body unnaturally hot, almost scalding. She tried to move, but her body betrayed her, inching closer to Jiang Ciyi.

Jiang Ciyi’s scalpel pressed deeper, though Cheng Xing could feel the trembling weakness in her grip.

That fragile, forceful hand only fueled a desire to conquer her.

Every cell in Cheng Xing’s body seemed to scream to possess her, to humiliate her, to see her crawl and beg.

The original host’s thoughts kept surfacing. Cheng Xing gritted her teeth, pulling back, fighting against them, and cursed inwardly: Monster.

“Alright,” Cheng Xing exhaled, her breath hot, the air she inhaled thick with the scent of gardenia—part perfume, part natural allure.

She reached for her phone to call 110.

No, 120.

Her mind was slipping, but in a fleeting moment of distraction, she regained clarity only to find her soft chest pressed against Jiang Ciyi’s trembling body. Those cold, piercing eyes now held a hint of dazed allure, as if battling her own desires.

For a moment, Cheng Xing lost herself.

The physical sensation was far more real than the faint pain in her wrist.

Her legs were pressed against Jiang Ciyi’s, her arm with the vivid red vine tattoo propped beside Jiang Ciyi’s face, entwined with her hair. The cool wooden floor now radiated an ambiguous heat.

Each breath brought their bodies closer, brushing through their clothes.

Soft, warm, like untouchable clouds turned into cotton candy.

She could drown in this gentle trap.

Damn.

Cheng Xing didn’t want to die!

The thought of the original host’s tragic fate sent a shiver through her.

The female lead, once blackened, had maxed-out combat and intelligence stats, backed by a powerful family and a childhood sweetheart. Cheng Xing would be obliterated.

And Jiang Ciyi’s icy glare suggested she was already close to that breaking point.

Cheng Xing figured she was doomed either way, so she might as well…

Her body leaned down, careful not to press too heavily on Jiang Ciyi’s frail frame. Her dry, burning lips brushed Jiang Ciyi’s neck in a casual kiss. Jiang Ciyi froze, as if shocked by electricity, her movements pausing for a moment.

Then, reacting, she summoned all her strength, pressing the gleaming scalpel against Cheng Xing’s neck.

Cheng Xing, fearless, mimicked the original host’s reckless tone perfectly. “As the saying goes, ‘To die beneath a peony is to be a romantic ghost.’ Tonight, I’ll have my way with you. Kill me if you want.”

Die, just die.

Maybe death would send her back.

Back to marrying someone she didn’t love was better than losing her life here.

Ignoring the scalpel’s threat, she leaned in to kiss her, hesitating between her cheek or lips.

Neither seemed quite right.

Cheng Xing had never played the rogue and didn’t know how.

Just as she steeled herself to kiss her lips, Jiang Ciyi’s cold voice rang out: “I never need a second strike to kill. Think carefully.”

Cheng Xing shuddered but it was too late. She leaned in, and Jiang Ciyi turned her head, so the kiss landed on her soft cheek.

At the same moment, Jiang Ciyi’s scalpel stabbed toward her heart.

A flash of light.

Cheng Xing closed her eyes, awaiting death. But in the next second, everything froze, as if time and even the air had stopped.

A cute, mechanical voice sounded:

[Awoo! Host detected deliberately provoking the poor heroine, attempting to end their life and alter the plot. Time rewind, plot reset.]

[Awoo! Deducting 20 life points from the host. 80 points remain until annihilation~ Keep trying to die!]

[Awoo! No, keep trying to survive!]