Transmigrated As The Villainous Scumbag Wife Of A Disabled Tycoon - Chapter 28
28
Xu Congshi had just left the lab when the night breeze made her shiver.
Standing by the roadside, she opened her phone to call a cab. While waiting, she switched to her chat with Jiang Ciyi: [What are you suspicious about?]
Jiang Ciyi: [A lot.]
Xu Congshi: [Be specific.]
Jiang Ciyi: […I’ve considered many possibilities, like twins.]
Xu Congshi, finding it too cold to type, sent a voice message: “Not likely. After the Cheng family had two sons, they desperately wanted a daughter. When they finally had Cheng Xing, they were extremely protective. If there were twins, it would’ve come up long ago.”
“Besides, have you ever seen twins who look exactly alike? Even identical twins have differences in bone structure.”
Jiang Ciyi: [Mm.]
Xu Congshi’s car arrived, and she got into the back seat: “Keep the report safe. I’ve deleted my copy.”
Jiang Ciyi: [Okay.]
Since meeting this junior colleague, Xu Congshi had grown used to her sparse words.
“Are you planning to keep things going with her? Why not divorce her and join my lab? Your current condition isn’t suited for fieldwork, but the lab would be perfect. If our current project succeeds, we might even win an award.” Xu Congshi hadn’t given up on recruiting her as an assistant.
Jiang Ciyi was the most talented person Xu Congshi had ever met in this field.
Though Xu Congshi had always excelled academically and been praised wherever she went, during her graduate studies, her mentor once said he’d never seen anyone with Jiang Ciyi’s natural talent.
When Xu Congshi asked, “Am I not as good as her?”
“You’re very smart,” her mentor replied diplomatically, “but she’s a genius.”
Later, at just twenty-three, Jiang Ciyi made waves at the Jianggang Police Bureau, single-handedly overturning the conclusions of two renowned forensic experts to solve a cold case.
Her reputation soared.
Xu Congshi was involved in that case too. She, like the other forensic experts, believed the fatal injury was to the abdomen. But Jiang Ciyi, after silently observing for a long time, insisted it was the head.
No one believed her—every sign pointed to the abdomen as the cause of death. Yet Jiang Ciyi was adamant.
Further autopsy revealed a long, thin needle inside the skull, which turned out to be the true fatal wound.
From then on, Xu Congshi was genuinely convinced of Jiang Ciyi’s brilliance.
So, she could tolerate Jiang Ciyi’s aloofness, pride, and indifference.
Over time, she realized her junior wasn’t arrogant—just introverted and pure. Xu Congshi enjoyed working with her.
That’s why she went out of her way to help her.
Otherwise, secretly investigating Cheng Xing’s DNA could cause a storm if the Cheng family found out—especially Cheng Xing’s aunt, Xu Congshi’s own aunt, Cheng Xiuli.
Speaking of which, Xu Congshi was distantly related to Cheng Xing.
Her aunt, Cheng Xiuli, was Cheng Xing’s aunt.
Everyone in Jianggang knew how much the Cheng family doted on Cheng Xing.
Privately, people mocked her as Jianggang’s “number one heiress”—spoiled and willful, but undeniably cherished.
Some teased with a mix of jealousy and envy.
Xu Congshi didn’t mingle with their circle. Her life revolved around studying, going abroad, pursuing her graduate degree, and working in the lab. She had no interest in the family business or the idle socialites who partied all day.
Staying out of their circle meant she didn’t know much about Cheng Xing’s scandals. It was only when Jiang Ciyi approached her that she looked into it.
Cheng Xing’s character was indeed questionable.
That night, overhearing Cheng Xing’s conversation with Liu Ning, Xu Congshi realized they were cut from the same cloth.
Knowing Cheng Xing was a ticking time bomb, Xu Congshi tried to offer Jiang Ciyi a way out: “No matter what, you need a job, right? Come to my lab. No overtime, nine-to-five, two-hour lunch break, weekends off, full benefits, 20,000 a month, paid on the fifth.”
Xu Congshi briefly wondered if 20,000 was too low for someone like Jiang Ciyi, but with the lab’s tight budget, it was the best she could offer.
To sweeten the deal: “If you join and we make progress on the project, I’ll personally give you a raise. You name the number.”
Jiang Ciyi: […Is scientific research this broke now?]
Xu Congshi laughed in exasperation: “What do you think? The funding’s limited. If my family didn’t support me, I’d have starved. How much did you make at the police bureau? I’ll match it.”
Jiang Ciyi didn’t make outrageous demands: [Let’s go with what you said. No need for benefits; the bureau still has me on payroll and covers that.]
Xu Congshi: […Damn.]
Jiang Ciyi, puzzled by her sudden outburst, sent a question mark.
“Jiang Ciyi, you’re moonlighting while still on the public payroll? The Jianggang Police Bureau didn’t fire you despite your injury and is keeping you on salary with a nominal position? Is this the treatment geniuses get?” Xu Congshi’s tone soured, though without jealousy.
Jiang Ciyi didn’t confirm it, humbly replying: [Maybe they just pity me.]
Xu Congshi: [Tch.]
After some thought, Jiang Ciyi messaged Xu Congshi with a start date—the nearest Monday.
She added that she wasn’t sure she could stay long-term or contribute significantly to the project. If she couldn’t help, Xu Congshi could tell her directly, and she’d resign.
Xu Congshi only said: [Jiang Ciyi, you’re underestimating the genius my mentor praised.]
“Genius” was the highest praise—a person who could excel effortlessly.
But Xu Congshi didn’t pressure her: [Just do your best. This project is tough. I’ve been in the lab for a week straight with no progress. Research is an endless journey.]
Jiang Ciyi thanked her and put down her phone.
It was already 1:30 a.m., but Jiang Ciyi couldn’t sleep.
Half a month had passed since her marriage to Cheng Xing. She’d spent ten days alone in the dark attic.
After emerging, everything felt different.
Jiang Ciyi started searching for clues but found nothing.
It was as if, without warning or reason, Cheng Xing had become a different person.
She forgot her allergy to century eggs, started using a delivery app she’d never touched, went from dining at upscale Western restaurants to eating street food and takeout, gazed at her with gentle eyes, negotiated sincerely, made handmade gifts, and always stood by her side.
If not for the same face, Jiang Ciyi could hardly connect this person with the old Cheng Xing.
Yet science proved they were the same person.
Cheng Xing had once casually said, “If you don’t believe me, check my DNA.”
That comment sparked Jiang Ciyi’s suspicion that she might be a twin sister, which softened her attitude.
But the DNA report shattered that theory.
Jiang Ciyi’s first thought was that Cheng Xing was plotting something new.
Yet, after much thought, it seemed unnecessary.
If Cheng Xing wanted to make her fall in love only to cruelly dump her, she’d started that game months ago.
But clearly, Jiang Ciyi hadn’t fallen for it.
She didn’t love Cheng Xing.
She married her to fulfill her grandmother’s wish—a compromise in life.
At the time, Jiang Ciyi thought, if she couldn’t find someone she loved, someone who loved her would do. So she accepted the proposal.
But right after the marriage, Cheng Xing showed her true colors.
Now, she’d transformed again.
She’d agreed to a divorce, only to backtrack the next day, asking for two months.
Two months—what could she do in that time?
Jiang Ciyi, who prided herself on her intelligence and had been praised countless times, was utterly clueless about this.
Closing her eyes, Cheng Xing’s recent expressions flooded her mind, lingering on her serious words from last night: “I don’t want to be the despicable person you once knew.”
The despicable person you once knew.
It all hinted that the current her wasn’t the same as before.
Yet Cheng Xing used all sorts of absurd or sincere explanations to insist she was the same person, just reforming herself.
Jiang Ciyi didn’t believe it.
That night, Jiang Ciyi slept restlessly. She woke up late the next day, finding an IV needle in the back of her hand—switched to the other hand. The nurse’s skill was excellent; she hadn’t even stirred.
The IV bag of glucose was nearly empty. The room’s curtains were drawn, letting only faint light slip through.
She lay there, too lazy to move.
Last night’s emotional toll and endless pondering yielded no answers.
Instead, it felt like wandering deeper into a maze.
After a sleepless night, she decided to let it go.
If she couldn’t figure it out, she’d stop trying and take it one step at a time.
After all, she was alone in this world now. Whatever Cheng Xing did, so be it.
Someone once told her that without vulnerabilities, you’re the strongest.
Now, she’d truly achieved that.
But without vulnerabilities, she’d also lost her freedom to move.
Ironic.
Jiang Ciyi sat up, staring blankly. A nurse came to check her IV, smiling when she saw her awake: “You’re up! Want me to open the curtains?”
“Sure. Thanks.” Jiang Ciyi said.
The curtains parted, and warm sunlight flooded the room, briefly stinging her eyes.
She raised a hand to shield them, adjusting slowly.
When she opened her eyes again, the room seemed different.
The nurse asked if she felt unwell. Jiang Ciyi said she was fine, but the nurse slowed the IV drip anyway.
It was the same intern from yesterday who’d struggled with her IV. Perhaps because Jiang Ciyi had been patient, the nurse was especially kind today, smiling brightly and asking if she was hungry or wanted snacks.
Jiang Ciyi shook her head: “Not hungry.”
Still, the nurse left a few candies by her bed.
Jiang Ciyi thanked her, but the nurse waved it off: “You gave me so many chances yesterday; I haven’t thanked you. You’re such a good person!”
She even bowed.
The nurse looked young. When asked, she said she was a third-year student, interning through her school.
She admitted she wasn’t naturally gifted but had practiced diligently, becoming the best in her class at finding veins. Yesterday was an exception.
Jiang Ciyi’s veins were just too fine.
Jiang Ciyi smiled: “But you did well today.”
The nurse laughed: “I didn’t do it today.”
“Who did?” Jiang Ciyi asked.
Before the nurse could answer, the door opened, and the doctor came for rounds.
Dr. Qin asked a few questions, adjusted her medication, and gave some instructions. The nurse left with the doctor.
Jiang Ciyi didn’t dwell on it; it was just idle chat.
When the room quieted, she noticed the changes.
The flowers bought last night at the hospital entrance had been trimmed and arranged in different vases. The vases—perhaps bought that morning or delivered—were beautiful, each with elegantly or vibrantly paired flowers. Even the wilted ones looked revived after trimming and watering, far better than when purchased.
On the windowsill sat a bare pot of soil, freshly turned and watered, as if seeds had been planted.
With the colorful flowers, the once-dreary room felt lively and vibrant.
No doubt, this was Cheng Xing’s doing.
Or perhaps she’d arranged for someone to do it, just to curry favor.
But why bother?
Jiang Ciyi had nothing worth exploiting—no reason for Cheng Xing to grovel.
This was what baffled her most.
Before, Cheng Xing married her to humiliate her, tormenting her like taming a beast.
Now, her goal seemed achieved.
Was she mentally unstable? Or did she have a performative personality?
After ruling out the twin theory, this was the only explanation that made sense.
As she pondered, the door was knocked. Jiang Ciyi said, “Come in.”
The door opened, and Zheng Shuqing, in a pink tracksuit, walked in with a bouquet: “Hello, my dear baby Jiang!”
Seeing her, Jiang Ciyi’s eyes flickered with disappointment.
But she quickly adjusted.
Zheng Shuqing caught the fleeting expression: “What’s with you, baby Jiang? Not happy to see me? Were you expecting Cheng Xing?”
Jiang Ciyi: “…No.”
Her social circle was small, so Cheng Xing was the only one likely to show up.
In just a few days, she’d grown used to this rhythm.
So, naturally, she assumed it would be Cheng Xing at the door.
Based on recent days, Cheng Xing would walk in with food, trying to convince her to trust her.
But today, Cheng Xing had rearranged the room’s flowers yet hadn’t come to see her.
Jiang Ciyi felt a strange pang but didn’t dwell on it. Zheng Shuqing interrupted her thoughts: “Your eyes were clearly disappointed. Hmph.”
Jiang Ciyi glanced at her: “Why are you here?”
“To visit my best friend, of course.” Zheng Shuqing set her flowers aside, exclaiming, “Who sent these? I bought the same ones!”
Jiang Ciyi looked at the bedside vase, holding jasmine and lavender in a colorful pink-purple glass bottle, brimming with life.
Zheng Shuqing had brought a bundle of lavender.
“It’s fine.” Jiang Ciyi said. “Yours are nice too.”
Zheng Shuqing scoffed: “Anyone with eyes can see this bouquet is better. I saw nicer ones at the shop, but you love lavender, so I got you all lavender.”
“Thanks.” Jiang Ciyi said, her mood lifting with Zheng Shuqing’s energy.
Zheng Shuqing asked if she’d eaten, pulling out chicken soup her mother made: “My mom knew you’re frail, so she got up early to buy a free-range chicken. It smells amazing. I tried to sneak a sip this morning and nearly got my hand whacked with chopsticks.”
“Would she really?” Jiang Ciyi teased.
Zheng Shuqing shrugged: “No way. You know my mom’s always favored you.”
Jiang Ciyi mused: “Maybe because I don’t live with them.”
“Even if you did, they’d love you most.”
Zheng Shuqing served her a bowl of soup. Seeing the IV, she offered to feed her.
Jiang Ciyi declined: “Wait a bit; it’s almost done. I’ll eat myself.”
Zheng Shuqing shook her head: “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, never giving anyone a chance.”
“Why give you a chance? If your parents knew you were serving me, they’d hate me.” Jiang Ciyi joked.
Zheng Shuqing rolled her eyes: “They’d think I’m finally useful, feeding the top scholar.”
Jiang Ciyi: “…”
“They’d love for me to hang around you and catch some of your smarts.” Zheng Shuqing said, slipping into Cantonese: “Other people’s daughters are always better.”
Jiang Ciyi smiled: “Maybe later.”
“I told them.” Zheng Shuqing said. Her mood was calmer than before, but after some casual chat, she got to the point: “Have you decided? About divorcing her?”
“Not yet.” Jiang Ciyi said.
She’d told Zheng Shuqing about delaying the divorce for two months, saying she’d observe more without mentioning the agreement.
Zheng Shuqing, respecting boundaries, had said it was her choice as long as it wasn’t coerced.
But today, Zheng Shuqing seemed preoccupied: “I thought about it. Divorcing her now might be rash. She has a lot of assets; you could get a share. I know some lawyers who can help with a lawsuit. And don’t worry about having nowhere to go—my family’s not as rich as hers, but we’ve got a room for you.”
“Move in with us; my parents can look after you.” Zheng Shuqing continued, having planned everything. “Don’t worry about medical bills either. My new book’s doing well; I’ll be a little rich soon and can support you without relying on my parents.”
Zheng Shuqing was an only child. Her father ran a company, and her mother was a homemaker. After graduating, she worked briefly but hated the office politics and errands. Once, she was nearly coerced into drinking at a business dinner.
If her father hadn’t shown up, she’d have been in trouble.
The experience left her traumatized. She stayed home, avoiding people and work.
Her father let her stay home, do what she wanted, and put her on the company payroll, wiring her 30,000 a month—50,000 on her birthday.
Zheng Shuqing had a decent savings but insisted on being independent, only using her father’s money for necessities.
After quitting, she got hooked on novels, often staying up all night. Sometimes, at Zheng’s mother’s request, Jiang Ciyi would drag her out for a walk.
When Jiang Ciyi messaged her after work, Zheng Shuqing would show up with dark circles, looking drained from reading.
Eventually, she started writing her own novels.
At first, she kept it secret, only telling Jiang Ciyi when she gained traction.
Zheng Shuqing’s writing was sporadic—bursts of ambition followed by slumps.
But after two years, she had a steady readership, earning a few thousand monthly, often writing all night like a ghost.
Her mother worried and urged her to quit, offering more money, but Zheng Shuqing declared, “Writing is my lifeline. I, the great author Zheng, won’t take handouts!”
That day, her mother took away her plate, leaving her hungry. She went to Jiang Ciyi, begging for a feast.
Since then, she avoided such bold claims.
Writing was unstable. Her last book flopped, and Jiang Ciyi treated her to meals to cheer her up.
Today, Zheng Shuqing was beaming: “If this book doesn’t earn a million, I’ll write my name backward. Supporting you is no problem.”
Jiang Ciyi raised a brow: “That confident?”
“You don’t know—I’ve never had data this good.” Zheng Shuqing said, showing her backend: “It’s only this hour, and I’ve already made a thousand.”
Jiang Ciyi: “…”
Impressive.
As Zheng Shuqing shared work updates, Jiang Ciyi mentioned joining Xu Congshi’s lab.
Zheng Shuqing was disappointed, asking if she’d never return to fieldwork.
Jiang Ciyi paused: “If my leg doesn’t recover, probably not.”
The police bureau’s leniency was limited. With her leg injury, autopsies were difficult. She could teach at a university or switch to research with her credentials, but continuing as a forensic pathologist was unlikely.
After her accident, a senior colleague suggested teaching at Jianggang University. Her lack of advanced degrees was an issue, but with a bureau recommendation, she could get hired, though the pay would be lower.
Jiang Ciyi had declined, uninterested in switching careers.
Now, she had to consider it.
“Such a shame,” Zheng Shuqing said, her face falling. “You don’t know—I brag to my readers about my forensic pathologist bestie, so they trust my suspense stories.”
Jiang Ciyi: “…”
“Tch.” Jiang Ciyi teased, lightening the mood. “You’re using my name to scam people.”
“It’s the truth! How’s that scamming?” Zheng Shuqing retorted.
Jiang Ciyi humored her, and Zheng Shuqing sighed: “It’s really such a pity.”
Her earlier comment was casual; now, it was genuine regret.
Jiang Ciyi patted her shoulder: “Look on the bright side—quitting means fewer life-threatening risks.”
“True. If you’d quit earlier, maybe the accident wouldn’t have happened,” Zheng Shuqing frowned. “I still think it wasn’t an accident.”
“I know.” Jiang Ciyi said. “But the bureau hasn’t found any leads.”
With so much time passed and the hit-and-run driver still at large, it felt more like a calculated plot.
Both fell silent, heavy with thought.
Soon, Jiang Ciyi’s IV was empty. She pulled out the needle, pressed the spot, and took the chicken soup.
Zheng’s mother’s soup was rich and fragrant, as good as any restaurant’s. After two bowls, Zheng Shuqing asked, “Where’s Cheng Xing today? Didn’t she say she’s turning over a new leaf? You went home with her, yet she left you alone in the hospital?”
“No.” Jiang Ciyi said, pausing. The unresolved question swirled in her mind. She furrowed her brow and asked, “Do you think someone can become a completely different person in a short time?”
Zheng Shuqing: “…?”
Not understanding, Jiang Ciyi detailed the oddities she’d noticed.
After finishing, she added, “The other night, when she was drunk, she said she had a secret—that she’s an alien.”
Zheng Shuqing: “Huh??”
Jiang Ciyi set down her bowl, serious: “Do you think it’s true? Are there really aliens?”
Zheng Shuqing: “Huh???”
Seeing her reaction, Jiang Ciyi waved it off: “Never mind.”
“Aliens exist,” Zheng Shuqing said. “In sci-fi novels. Based on current research, there probably are aliens in the universe, but we haven’t made contact. She was just teasing you.”
“But she’s really different.” Jiang Ciyi said. “My instincts are never wrong.”
Zheng Shuqing trusted her intuition.
At first, she thought Jiang Ciyi was making excuses to stay with Cheng Xing, but now it seemed real.
After thinking, Zheng Shuqing said, “There are only three possibilities.”
“What?”
“First, she’s crazy. Second, her soul’s been swapped. Third, she has a split personality.”
As a novelist, Zheng Shuqing analyzed the probabilities.
Rationally, the third was most likely.
But as someone who believed in both science and mysticism, she preferred the second.
Still…
“She’s too dangerous. You should divorce her.” Zheng Shuqing said. “Don’t worry about having nowhere to go. My family welcomes you, baby Jiang.”
Jiang Ciyi laughed: “I know. I’ll be careful.”
“I didn’t say anything when you decided to marry because I trusted your judgment.” Zheng Shuqing said, pained. “And look what happened.”
Jiang Ciyi: “…”
Zheng Shuqing stayed until the afternoon, leaving only when Jiang Ciyi’s ears needed a break.
A nurse came to restart her IV. The intern’s technique was still shaky but better than yesterday.
Jiang Ciyi endured calmly.
Zheng Shuqing, however, frowned, ready to erupt.
Jiang Ciyi distracted her by mentioning a novel she saw at the bookstore.
Zheng Shuqing lit up.
After she left, Jiang Ciyi sat in a daze.
Zheng Shuqing’s parting words echoed: “Cheng Xing’s just a three-minute infatuation, after your looks. I’ve been here all day and haven’t seen her. She doesn’t care about you. If you remarry, pick someone good.”
Jiang Ciyi only smiled: “Sure.”
Zheng Shuqing’s departure took her smile with it.
Her social battery was drained. Turning, she saw the two bouquets.
Each beautiful in its own way.
The room was filled with their fragrance, like a garden. Outside, the sunset painted the sky like a comic book scene.
Cheng Xing’s words from yesterday gave the sunset new meaning—not just a line between day and night, but a romantic slice of human life.
Jiang Ciyi wanted to see the sunset she’d missed but lacked the energy.
She was always like this—bored when alone.
After thinking, she picked up a book.
As Zheng Shuqing said, Cheng Xing hadn’t come all day.
Was she upset about yesterday?
Miss Cheng probably never faced such grievances.
Should Jiang Ciyi apologize?
She’d never studied the art of apologizing.
Especially to Cheng Xing.
Past events were an indelible shadow for Jiang Ciyi.
No matter how she treated Cheng Xing, it felt justified.
After Zheng Shuqing’s analysis, Jiang Ciyi leaned toward the split personality theory.
But split personalities typically form through specific trauma. She’d seen a suspect with one—vice personality committing crimes the main personality didn’t recall, polar opposites of each other.
Investigation revealed the suspect was abused as a child and, after a sexual assault, developed a vice personality to cope and seek revenge.
The main personality was pure and innocent; the vice personality embodied humanity’s darkness.
The vice personality was the killer.
The suspect was sent to a mental hospital but later ended their life, unable to bear the environment.
A tragic case, one of Jiang Ciyi’s more complex ones.
Cheng Xing’s symptoms fit, but she’d lived a charmed life, with no trauma to trigger a split personality. So why would she have one?
And Jiang Ciyi had known her long enough.
Could a second personality just now emerge?
Theories swirled, making it impossible to read.
On her third attempt to close the book, Jiang Ciyi took a deep breath.
She realized she was too focused on Cheng Xing.
Normally, not seeing her for days wouldn’t faze her.
She wouldn’t care to see her.
But today, she felt restless.
Probably because of yesterday’s tension.
As she reassured herself, the door opened. The nurse came to remove her IV, bringing hot chestnuts from a street vendor.
While removing the needle, the nurse whispered, “I was so scared today, thinking it’d be like yesterday.”
“You’re improving fast.” Jiang Ciyi reassured.
“You’re so kind,” the nurse said. “I’ll never be as good as your wife.”
“My wife?” Jiang Ciyi was stunned.
What did this have to do with Cheng Xing?
The nurse nodded: “Yeah, she did your IV this morning. Got it in one go, and you didn’t even wake up.”
Jiang Ciyi: “…”
Shocked, she repeated, “Cheng Xing did my IV this morning?”
“Yes, she watched me struggle and took over because I was too nervous,” the nurse said.
Jiang Ciyi: “…”
She messaged Xu Congshi: [Does a split personality include learning new skills?]
Xu Congshi: [You think she has a split personality?]
Before Jiang Ciyi could reply, the door was knocked again.
The nurse, holding a tray, gave her a teasing smile: “You’ve got a great wife. Miss Cheng’s been waiting outside all day.”
“Waiting for what?” Jiang Ciyi asked.
“She said she messed up and was afraid to face you but wanted to see you, so she’s been pacing outside.”
“Her exact words?”
“Of course not,” the nurse laughed. “I embellished. She said she had something to discuss, but she’s been lingering anxiously all day. Whatever she did, forgive her—she loves you so much.”
Jiang Ciyi: “…”
The door opened, and Cheng Xing overheard the nurse’s last words.
As the nurse passed, she gave Cheng Xing a “fighting” gesture: “Miss Cheng, go for it!”
Cheng Xing: “…”
When the nurse left, Cheng Xing stood in the room. Their eyes met, awkward.
Jiang Ciyi spoke first: “Why didn’t you come in?”
“I was afraid seeing me would upset you. I wanted to give you time to think.” Cheng Xing said.
“Think about what?” Jiang Ciyi asked.
“Whether to continue our agreement.” Cheng Xing said. “If you insist on a divorce, I don’t think I can stop you.”
“Then why are you here now?” Jiang Ciyi asked.
Cheng Xing glanced at the sky outside, her voice soft: “I didn’t want you to miss today’s sunset and regret it.”
So, I want to take you to see today’s sunset.