Transmigrated As The Villainous Scumbag Wife Of A Disabled Tycoon - Chapter 32

32

The atmosphere in the car suddenly fell silent.

Even Xu Jingyu, who was driving in the front, sensed something unusual. He glanced through the rearview mirror a few times before quickly focusing back on the road, driving attentively.

But in his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder.

He had heard from his cousin Xu Congshi that the wife Cheng Xing married was a rare genius in the field of forensic science, widely praised by those in the industry.

Marrying Cheng Xing was like a beautiful flower being stuck in a pile of manure—utterly wasted.

If she was such a genius, why would she leave her original position?

Could it be because of her marriage?

Xu Jingyu pricked up his ears to catch any sounds, but the car was eerily quiet.

All that could be heard were the faint breaths of the three people and the sound of the tires rolling over the road.

After a long pause, Cheng Xing seemed to snap out of her thoughts. She curved her lips into a slight smile and asked, “Have you thought it through?”

Her words seemed to skip over a lot.

There was no attempt to persuade or question—just a calm and gentle inquiry directed at Jiang Ciyi.

Jiang Ciyi was momentarily taken aback. “I’ve already agreed.”

She didn’t directly answer the question.

Truthfully, Jiang Ciyi wasn’t entirely sure if she had thought it through.

To not waste her talents and to live up to the reputation of being a genius forensic scientist, she had overcome many challenges.

Reaching this point, she felt more pain than anyone else.

But it seemed she had no choice.

As Xu Congshi had said, in her current condition, transitioning to research was the best option.

If she stayed at the police station, constantly facing corpses on the front lines and unable to move freely during autopsies, she wouldn’t be able to perform as a competent forensic scientist.

Jiang Ciyi had expected Cheng Xing to ask more questions. After all, when others heard she was switching to research, they expressed regret, curiosity, or tried to dissuade her.

Just like Zheng Shuqing’s reaction when she found out.

But Cheng Xing remained remarkably calm. She half-closed her eyes, her body swaying slightly with the car’s movements, and gave a soft smile. “Good.”

Jiang Ciyi paused. “You’re not going to ask?”

“Ask what?” Cheng Xing countered.

Her attitude left Jiang Ciyi momentarily at a loss.

Indeed, there wasn’t much to ask.

In the past, Jiang Ciyi wouldn’t have shared her decisions with Cheng Xing, nor would she have thought they concerned her.

Especially not matters related to her career.

For someone like Cheng Xing—a carefree, wealthy second-generation who had never experienced the workplace—talking about work would likely elicit a dismissive, “What’s so great about that lousy job? Quit it. I’ll support you.”

But tonight, Cheng Xing was different.

She was earnest and cautious, helping Jiang Ciyi navigate workplace relationships and even envisioning her return to the police station.

These were things Jiang Ciyi herself didn’t dare to dream about.

Yet Cheng Xing spoke with such certainty that, for a moment, Jiang Ciyi felt her legs might heal, and she could walk back into the police station, wear her white coat, enter the autopsy room, pick up the scalpel, and join the criminal investigation team to discuss cases.

So, Jiang Ciyi had assumed Cheng Xing would naturally ask, just as Zheng Shuqing had expressed regret over her leaving the field.

At the very least, a drunk Cheng Xing might get irritable or angrily scold her for not appreciating her efforts, especially after drinking so much on her behalf.

That would be the Cheng Xing she knew.

But Cheng Xing was calm and gentle, her eyes fixed intently on Jiang Ciyi.

Jiang Ciyi was at a loss for words. “Nothing.”

She answered calmly, then turned to look ahead.

Cheng Xing’s voice sounded by her ear. “Whatever you’ve decided, just do it well. Life isn’t a true-or-false question.”

Jiang Ciyi’s body stiffened. She looked at Cheng Xing in shock.

In her drunken state, Cheng Xing had a hazy demeanor, especially with the faint smile on her face, which made her seem approachable.

It was the same face, yet she was completely different from before.

Jiang Ciyi couldn’t even pinpoint exactly what had changed.

It was as if everything about her was different.

Yet, she still had the same face.

Dual personality.

Jiang Ciyi became even more convinced of this theory.

But what shocked her most wasn’t this. It was…

“Why are you staring at me?” Cheng Xing tilted her head, her gaze passing over Jiang Ciyi’s beautiful profile to the brightly lit nightscape of Jianggang outside.

Jiang Ciyi feigned calmness. “What did you just say?”

“I said…” Cheng Xing paused, thinking carefully. “Life isn’t a true-or-false question?”

“Yes.” Jiang Ciyi asked without blinking, “Where did you hear that phrase?”

Xu Jingyu, sitting in the front, couldn’t help but interject, “Wasn’t that something our high school teacher used to say all the time?”

Jiang Ciyi’s gaze shifted forward. “What?”

Xu Jingyu shrugged. “She was worried we’d be too stressed, so she’d say life is a multiple-choice question, not a true-or-false one, and you can even choose more than one option.”

The heart Jiang Ciyi had been holding up suddenly crashed down, leaving her with an indescribable sense of discomfort.

She had thought…

“I thought everyone knew that phrase.” Xu Jingyu teased. “Didn’t expect you hadn’t heard it, sis.”

“I’ve heard it before.” Jiang Ciyi said faintly. “But it wasn’t from a teacher.”

It was a long time ago, when she was still corresponding with her pen pal. Her claustrophobia made it hard to adjust to studying forensic medicine, and she often considered changing majors.

Back then, her pen pal wrote to her: Life isn’t a true-or-false question; it’s a multiple-choice question. Wa Pian, whatever you choose is right, as long as you’re happy.

When Cheng Xing said that phrase earlier, Jiang Ciyi felt a whirlwind of emotions in that moment—anticipation, fear, nervousness.

In the end, it all amounted to nothing, leaving her feeling hollow and pained.

Cheng Xing, sitting beside her, had no idea she was thinking so much. Her head was fuzzy, but as she looked at Jiang Ciyi, seeing her stunning profile against the backdrop of Jianggang’s nightscape, she couldn’t help but marvel at the unfairness of creation.

As for Jiang Ciyi’s decision to move to a lab, Cheng Xing didn’t have strong opinions.

As long as Jiang Ciyi was happy, that was enough.

Cheng Xing felt a tinge of regret, but Jiang Ciyi must have her reasons for making such a choice.

Putting herself in Jiang Ciyi’s shoes, if one day she gave up running her Chinese medicine clinic to teach at a university or switch to research, she wouldn’t want others questioning her why. She’d just want to hear, “You’re awesome! You’ve got this!”

After all, it takes immense courage to change paths and burn bridges.

The more people ask, the easier it is to waver.

With that in mind, Cheng Xing called out, “Jiang Ciyi.”

“Hm?” Jiang Ciyi turned her head, their eyes meeting.

Cheng Xing gave her a thumbs-up. “You’re amazing. You’ll definitely excel in research too.”

Jiang Ciyi: “…?”

“But didn’t you…” Jiang Ciyi hesitated, finding it hard to say, “Didn’t you want me to return to the police station?”

“What I want doesn’t matter,” Cheng Xing said, leaning back in her seat, adjusting to a comfortable position. Her voice was calm, almost lulling, drawn out but deeply comforting. “What matters is what you want to do. I just want you to be happy. That’s all.”

Jiang Ciyi stared at her intently, searching for any trace of insincerity on her face.

There was none.

Every word seemed to come from the heart.

After a moment, Cheng Xing asked, “Which day next week do you start?”

Jiang Ciyi: “Monday.”

Unlike the other night when Cheng Xing fell asleep after drinking too much, this time she kept rambling, fussing over Jiang Ciyi’s new job.

“Will they give you a uniform at the lab? Or do you wear a white coat? Or just your own clothes?” Without waiting for Jiang Ciyi to answer, she mumbled to herself, “You probably wear a white coat for experiments, but your own clothes for commuting. You don’t have suitable clothes yet. Let’s go shopping this Saturday so you have time to exchange anything that doesn’t fit.”

“What should we buy?” Cheng Xing instinctively pulled out her phone to open a shopping app, only to realize her phone didn’t have one installed.

She frowned and muttered, “What’s going on? No Taobao or Pinduoduo?”

Jiang Ciyi: “…What are you talking about?”

Cheng Xing froze, then looked up and asked, “What size shoes do you wear?”

Jiang Ciyi: “…”

“Why are you asking that?” Jiang Ciyi asked, slightly annoyed.

Asking a person with disabled legs about their shoe size felt like asking someone with no hands whether they write with their left or right hand.

It felt like an insult.

But Cheng Xing answered earnestly, “To buy you high heels and a few pairs of sneakers.”

“High heels go well with skirts, but they should be chunky heels, no higher than five centimeters,” Cheng Xing said, analyzing sincerely. “You’d look better in stilettos, but chunky heels are more practical. Sneakers are convenient and can go with casual clothes. Casual suits seem trendy this year—you’d probably look great in them.”

She mumbled a few more sentences, her phone now having downloaded the shopping app.

But before registering an account, her patience ran out. She closed the screen, slightly annoyed. “How about we go shopping this Saturday?”

Jiang Ciyi: “…”

She felt like she didn’t recognize Cheng Xing anymore.

But under the gaze of those eyes, she nodded almost involuntarily. “Okay.”

Xu Jingyu drove them to Tinglan Mansion, where the butler took the car keys and arranged for parking.

Cheng Xing had gone quiet in the second half of the ride. When Jiang Ciyi turned her head, she saw that Cheng Xing had fallen asleep.

As the car stopped, Jiang Ciyi hesitated about whether to wake her.

But as if sensing something, Cheng Xing slowly opened her eyes, rubbing them sleepily. “Where are we?”

Her voice was slightly hoarse.

Jiang Ciyi said, “The marital home.”

Cheng Xing paused, not fully processing. “Not back at the hospital?”

“It’s too late,” Jiang Ciyi said. “We’ll go back tomorrow morning.”

“What about the hospital?” Cheng Xing asked, then realized Jiang Ciyi, like her, was a patient. Since they were already at Tinglan Mansion, there was no need to return to the hospital.

She had smelled enough disinfectant over the years and still wasn’t used to it.

“I’ll call them.” Cheng Xing said, opening the car door and stepping out. She then walked around to help Jiang Ciyi out.

As she lifted her, she couldn’t help but say, “Jiang Ciyi, you need to eat more. You’re too thin.”

“Oh,” Jiang Ciyi replied, glancing at her profile and suppressing the flutter in her heart. She teased lightly, “Being thin makes it easier for you to carry me. Otherwise, how could you lift me?”

“I could lift you even if you gained more weight,” Cheng Xing said. “You should eat for your own health, not to make it easier for someone to carry you. Even if I can’t lift you, you can find someone who can. Always prioritize yourself.”

Jiang Ciyi froze. “Prioritize myself?”

“Yeah,” Cheng Xing said, placing her in the wheelchair and pushing her forward. A night breeze made her sneeze, and she sniffled before continuing, “You’re so beautiful, even if you gained twenty pounds, you’d just be fuller. Those who love you won’t stop because of twenty pounds, and those who don’t won’t start because of it. So, prioritize yourself. Being too thin isn’t good for your health.”

Jiang Ciyi lowered her gaze, savoring every word she said.

Then, as if picking a fight, she said deliberately, “But I’m in a wheelchair now, needing to be carried around. Of course, I should keep my weight as low as possible to not burden others.”

“You’re not a burden,” Cheng Xing said firmly. “Jiang Ciyi, you’re not anyone’s burden.”

Jiang Ciyi looked at her legs, a mocking smile tugging at her lips. “Really?”

“I, for one, would never find you a burden,” Cheng Xing said. “You’re amazing.”

“In what way?”

“Smart, brave, just, and kind-hearted.”

Jiang Ciyi had only been testing Cheng Xing, but her unhesitating response made her momentarily doubt herself.

Were these really her strengths?

Cheng Xing spoke with such conviction that Jiang Ciyi felt a bit embarrassed and fell silent.

They returned to Tinglan Mansion, which had been cleaned and was no longer the mess it was when Cheng Xing first arrived.

Cheng Xing was so tired her eyelids drooped. Fortunately, she still had the original owner’s memories, so she didn’t need to ask the butler which room was hers.

The biggest issue at home was how she and Jiang Ciyi would sleep.

Together in one room?

Not quite appropriate.

Separate rooms?

Not entirely proper either.

But since the entire staff at Tinglan Mansion knew their young lady was moody and unpredictable, Cheng Xing acted with impunity.

She gave the master bedroom to Jiang Ciyi and asked the butler to find her a random guest room to make do for the night.

The butler followed her, hesitating to speak.

Cheng Xing asked, “Is there a problem with the arrangement?”

“No,” the butler said hesitantly. “Young Master Xu is still in the living room. What should we do?”

“…”

Cheng Xing had completely forgotten about Xu Jingyu.

Hearing the butler, she quickly pushed Jiang Ciyi to the master bedroom, gave her some instructions, and went downstairs.

Xu Jingyu was sitting on the sofa, engrossed in his phone.

“Jingyu,” Cheng Xing said, sitting down. “Sorry, I forgot about you.”

“It’s fine,” Xu Jingyu said, a bit embarrassed. “I was just waiting for you to settle the payment.”

Cheng Xing: “…”

Wasn’t this supposed to be an automatic payment through the platform?

“Oh,” Cheng Xing said, playing along to avoid suspicion. “How much? I’ll transfer it to you.”

“Eighty,” Xu Jingyu said.

Cheng Xing had him show the QR code and transferred a thousand yuan.

“That’s too much,” Xu Jingyu said. “I only take what I’m owed.”

“The extra is pocket money from your cousin,” Cheng Xing said generously. “Is it enough? If not, I can send more.”

“It’s enough.” Xu Jingyu said, pocketing his phone and standing to leave.

But after a few steps, he stopped, turned back awkwardly, and said, “Thanks, cousin.”

“No big deal,” Cheng Xing said, waving with a smile. “But why are you working as a driver? Do your parents know? It’s so late—how are you getting home?”

Her string of questions made her sound like a concerned elder.

Xu Jingyu scratched the back of his neck. “I’ll tell you another time. I’m leaving.”

“Where are you staying tonight?” Cheng Xing asked. “Going home? I can have someone drive you.”

“No need,” Xu Jingyu declined. “I have to take another job.”

Cheng Xing frowned. “Aren’t you still in school? Staying up all night—aren’t you going to class tomorrow? Are you short on living expenses? I can send you some.”

Xu Jingyu gripped his phone tightly. “No need. I can earn my own money.”

“Where are you staying tonight? The dorms are probably closed by now.”

“I’ll crash at a friend’s,” Xu Jingyu said, then dashed off like a gust of wind.

Cheng Xing shouted after him, “If you’re short on cash, just let me know. Focus on your studies!”

She sounded like a nagging mother.

But Xu Jingyu vanished from sight like a breeze.

After a moment, the butler asked thoughtfully, “Miss, should we check on Young Master Xu?”

“No need,” Cheng Xing said. Their relationship wasn’t that close; she just couldn’t stand seeing a student struggle and felt compelled to look out for a younger relative.

After handling these matters, Cheng Xing went to knock on Jiang Ciyi’s door. Jiang Ciyi maneuvered her wheelchair to open it.

As soon as the door opened, Cheng Xing sneezed. The combination of drinking and the cold breeze had left her feeling unwell, but she still asked gently, “You okay? Need any help?”

“No,” Jiang Ciyi said, already changed into pajamas, looking calm and composed.

Cheng Xing felt relieved and reminded her, “Lock the door before you sleep. I’m going to shower and sleep. Call me if you need anything—my phone won’t be on silent, so don’t worry about waking me.”

She was concerned that Jiang Ciyi, sleeping alone, might fall due to her leg condition and not be able to call for help.

Jiang Ciyi nodded. “Okay.”

“Good night, then.” Cheng Xing said, looking at her. “Sweet dreams.”

“Hm,” Jiang Ciyi said, pursing her lips hesitantly. As Cheng Xing was about to close the door, she added, “Good night.”

Cheng Xing smiled, satisfied, closed the door, and heard the lock click before heading to the guest room.

After a quick shower, she felt a headache coming on and collapsed onto the bed.

Cheng Xing sensed something was off with her body. She checked her pulse, which was weak and floating, and touched her forehead, feeling a slight fever.

Not wanting to trouble anyone, she decided to wrap herself in a blanket and sleep it off, hoping it would pass by morning.

But being sick left her mind foggy, and she couldn’t sleep soundly, drifting between dreams and wakefulness.

In her haze, she heard someone call, “Cheng Xing?”

Struggling to open her eyes, she saw Jiang Ciyi’s face before her. Jiang Ciyi, frowning, held a cup to her lips. “Drink the medicine.”

“What medicine?” Cheng Xing mumbled.

“Poison.” Jiang Ciyi said coldly.

Cheng Xing chuckled. “Cold medicine, huh.”

Jiang Ciyi: “…”

As she lay back down, turning to her side, Cheng Xing’s lips curved slightly, and she said contentedly, “Jiang Ciyi, you’re really kind.”

Jiang Ciyi, who had been stone-faced, tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Cheng Xing, you’re really foolish.”