Transmigrated As The Villainous Scumbag Wife Of A Disabled Tycoon - Chapter 42

42

Cheng Xing handed over those matters to Sister Zhou. After seeing Jiang Ciyi off, she had no desire to return home and face the two unpalatable people. Instead, she found a quiet café, chose a corner seat, and sat down to read while continuing to work on her treatment plan.

For lunch, she ate at a nearby restaurant. During the meal, she received a call from Guan Linmin, who asked how she was feeling.

“I’m fine,” Cheng Xing said with a slight smile. “The ones suffering aren’t me, anyway.”

Thanks to Guan Linmin’s heads-up, Cheng Xing had stayed up late to arrange card-playing companions for the old lady.

In her prime, the old lady had been a formidable figure in the company, despising women like Guan Linmin who spent their days playing cards with little else to do. She herself loathed mahjong. Guan Linmin had initially planned to invite her usual card-playing friends, but Cheng Xing suggested that involving too many people might complicate things. Instead, she found professional companions online—ordinary people who would come to Tinglan Mansion to play. These companions weren’t bound by the rigid rules of their social circle. If the old lady acted high-handed or threw a tantrum over losing, they might post about it online.

In today’s society, with its subtle undercurrent of resentment toward the wealthy, the news that the former president of the Cheng Corporation was involved would be sensationalized, amplified by a few paid influencers. Rival companies would seize the opportunity to stir trouble, and the Cheng Corporation’s PR team would be forced to scramble for an emergency response.

Once the PR team reached out to the old lady, her authority in the boardroom would undoubtedly take a hit.

Sometimes, all it takes to bring down an elephant is a single ant.

The old lady might be getting on in years, but she hadn’t risen to lead the Cheng Corporation and elevate it to its current status without understanding these dynamics. She wouldn’t do something as foolish as shooting herself in the foot.

Just like when facing cameras, they always expressed gratitude or engaged in charity—brand image was everything.

Cheng Xing had the old lady’s psychology pinned down perfectly but didn’t share this with Guan Linmin. She only briefly mentioned what she’d done that morning.

Guan Linmin was delighted, praising her enthusiastically: “Xiao Zhou told me everything. How did you come up with such a plan? You’re a genius!”

Cheng Xing: “…”

Could coming up with ways to prank others really earn such high praise?

Cheng Xing couldn’t believe how much unconditional love the original host had received from Guan Linmin.

And yet, she’d still turned out that way.

Good soil, rotten bamboo shoots.

“I just moved up my workout schedule.” Cheng Xing said. “And I genuinely wanted to get her to exercise a bit.”

The word “genuinely” sounded a little forced.

Guan Linmin, with a knowing tone, said, “I get it. She’s an elder, after all. Our Xingxing is the most filial, isn’t she? By the way, has Xiao Jiang started work?”

“Yeah,” Cheng Xing replied. “I dropped her off at her workplace.”

“So what are you up to? Not sneaking off to hang out with your shady friends, are you?” Guan Linmin asked suspiciously.

Cheng Xing glanced at the dense notes on her laptop and pursed her lips. “Not really.”

“Then what are you doing?” Guan Linmin pressed. “Want to go shopping with me?”

“Nah, you go with your gal pals. I’ve got stuff to do.”

“What stuff? So mysterious.”

“…Studying.”

There was a two-minute silence on the other end before Guan Linmin asked, “Studying what?”

Cheng Xing replied, “Traditional Chinese medicine. I’ve been thinking wellness is a real science, and I’m kind of obsessed with acupuncture lately.”

Guan Linmin: “…?”

A few minutes later, she tentatively asked, “Xingxing, how about I find you a class to take?”

Cheng Xing smiled. “Sure. But I don’t know anything—what could I even do?”

“What’s wrong with not knowing anything? Nobody’s born knowing everything. You can learn,” Guan Linmin said. “Leave it to me. I’ll find you a good job.”

After hanging up with Cheng Xing, Guan Linmin immediately called Cheng Zimo. “Busy? Find your sister something to do.”

Cheng Zimo was taken aback. “What kind of job?”

Someone who hadn’t even graduated college, who spent her days clubbing or racing cars—what could she do?

Only his mother seemed blind to that.

“No idea. She said she wants to work and is willing to learn. She can handle hardship. Just arrange something for her at the company. If nothing else, give her a nominal position,” Guan Linmin said, embellishing Cheng Xing’s words. “Your grandmother’s been dropping hints lately, hasn’t she? Thinking Xingxing doesn’t work and just leeches off the family.”

Cheng Zimo: “…”

That was the truth, wasn’t it?

Guan Linmin was watching TV when a sudden idea struck her. “Didn’t you acquire an entertainment company? Why not package her up and send her into the entertainment industry? If Xu Zhaozhao can be an actress, isn’t your sister prettier?”

Cheng Zimo frowned instantly. “She hasn’t studied acting. Not everyone can just act.”

Guan Linmin was watching a popular time-travel drama called Spring Court Evening. Xu Zhaozhao’s acting in it was notoriously terrible.

Whenever her scenes came up, the barrage of comments criticized her for failing to match the female lead’s performance.

Using this as an example, Guan Linmin tried to persuade Cheng Zimo. “Acting is about talent. Xu Zhaozhao went to film school, and look how bad she is compared to the female lead, who isn’t even formally trained.”

Cheng Zimo: “…You’re set on this?”

Sensing the faint displeasure in her son’s tone, Guan Linmin quickly clarified, “Not exactly. I just want to find something for your sister to do. If she keeps hanging out with those bad influences, she’ll learn nothing good. Since she wants to change, we, as her family, should support her, right?”

Cheng Zimo felt that if he didn’t help Cheng Xing, he’d become the family’s sinner.

No wonder his dear mother was so good at manipulating him.

“Fine,” Cheng Zimo relented. “I’ll ask her what she thinks.”

Guan Linmin, still watching the TV and admiring the female lead’s looks and acting, sighed sincerely, “Why don’t you send Xingxing to learn from this lead? If she can’t play a main role, start with small parts. Step by step. Once she’s ready, throw money at a big IP production, and she’ll be a natural leading lady.”

After listening to her ramble, Cheng Zimo still didn’t know who she was talking about, so he asked.

Guan Linmin said, “I don’t know either. The comments call her Fengfeng. Let me check the progress bar.”

Cheng Zimo: “…”

So she was watching TV while talking to him?

He clearly wasn’t that important.

Cheng Zimo waited patiently. A few seconds later, Guan Linmin said, “The lead’s name is Gu Qingfeng. Nice name, huh? Son, she’s beautiful and talented. Why doesn’t your company sign her? She’s a money tree.”

Cheng Zimo suddenly fell silent. After Guan Linmin’s chatter, she asked why he wasn’t responding.

Cheng Zimo said in a low voice, “Mom, that’s that family.”

“Which family?” Guan Linmin didn’t catch on.

Cheng Zimo paused. “The Gu family from Jianggang.”

Silence fell on Guan Linmin’s end.

“No way! You sure she’s from that Gu family?” Guan Linmin asked in disbelief.

“I looked into signing her before. Couldn’t find anything, and I got a warning,” Cheng Zimo said. “In all of Jianggang, who else but the mysterious Gu family could pull that off?”

Guan Linmin: “…”

Cheng Zimo thought this would make his mother back off, but the next second, she slammed the table. “Then you have to arrange it! Put Xingxing by her side. If they become friends, we could connect with the Gu family. Wouldn’t that put us ahead of the Shen family?”

Cheng Zimo: “…”

Sometimes he thought his mother was clever; other times, far too naive.

In moments like this, he wasn’t sure how to respond.

Thankfully, she figured it out herself. “Never mind. A family like the Gus is too high for us to climb. If they think we’re scheming, they might trip us up. I forgot your business ties with them need careful handling, and the Gus don’t deal with other Jianggang families. My bad, I got carried away.”

Cheng Zimo patiently explained, “I looked into Gu Qingfeng before. She’s not well-regarded in the Gu family, likely not a core member. The family head is still her father, and the heir hasn’t been decided. Sending Xingxing there now would do her no good. No need to take the risk.”

Guan Linmin saw the logic and told Cheng Zimo to discuss it with Cheng Xing to figure out her next steps.

Building ties with the Gu family could elevate them, but crossing them could lead to ruin.

In the cutthroat world of business, bankruptcy could happen overnight.

The Gu family’s empire spanned Jianggang, with international business chains. Their annual tax contributions rivaled the revenue of mid-sized companies, and their employees supported half of Jianggang’s population. Even the Jianggang government treated them with deference.

What fascinated people most was the Gu family’s mystique.

As a centuries-old dynasty, they’d made significant contributions to the nation since wartime, continuing into the peaceful era. Their business grew, yet their leaders remained elusive.

The Gu family rarely did business with other Jianggang families, except for the Shen family.

Decades ago, a Shen family daughter—Shen Qingxue’s aunt, by lineage—married into the Gu family. Their love story was legendary, and a glass bridge on Luoxia Mountain, adorned with red ribbons for love wishes, was built for them.

With the Gu family’s backing, the Shen family soared, leaving the Chengs far behind.

After becoming Jianggang’s second most powerful family, the Shens adopted the Gu family’s low-profile approach.

That’s why Liu’s mother was so terrified of Shen Qingxue that day.

Offending Shen Qingxue meant facing the combined might of the Shen and Gu families. A company like hers could be swallowed up and bankrupted in an instant.

That afternoon, Cheng Xing continued working on her treatment plan. After hours of writing, her wrist ached, and her handwriting grew increasingly sloppy.

Around four o’clock, she got a call from Cheng Zimo, surprised that her big brother would call her.

He cut to the chase, asking about her plans and whether she was interested in entering the entertainment industry.

The question nearly made Cheng Xing fall out of her chair. “Brother, what kind of ghost story are you telling in broad daylight?”

Did he know how devastating that idea was to a socially anxious person?!

Cheng Xing couldn’t handle cameras, let alone act.

She’d barely managed to put on a show in front of the old lady and Xu Zhaozhao for revenge.

But she had no grudge against audiences!

“I’m not kidding,” Cheng Zimo said seriously. “I’ve thought it through. You have two options. One, enter the entertainment industry, start with supporting roles, and after two or three projects, I’ll arrange a big IP production with a top-tier team to make you an actress. Two, join my newly acquired agency in artist promotion or PR. Both departments are good for building skills.”

Cheng Xing thought for a moment. “Can’t I do something simpler? Like a receptionist? Or HR?”

Cheng Zimo: “…”

“Worst case, could I be a casting director?” she asked.

She knew next to nothing about the entertainment industry.

“You just want to coast.” Cheng Zimo concluded.

Cheng Xing paused. That was her intention, but she didn’t dare admit it, so she stayed silent.

“Then join the evaluation department,” Cheng Zimo said. “You’ll interview artists.”

Cheng Xing: “?”

There was such a great job?

But judging others felt a bit daunting.

This time, Cheng Zimo didn’t give her a chance to refuse. He told her to do well and hung up.

Cheng Xing sent him a WeChat message, asking when she’d start and what to prepare.

Cheng Zimo replied: [Go to Xing Media tomorrow. Someone will receive you.]

In this world, connections always made things easier.

Cheng Xing couldn’t forget her internship days. A fellow intern was endlessly praised by their mentor, while she was criticized no matter what she did.

Yet her skills surpassed the other intern’s in every assessment—she was always first.

But the mentor gave her a B and the other intern an A.

Later, in another department, she learned the mentor was the other intern’s uncle.

…Damn it!

This cursed, nepotistic society! Damn rich people!

But now, Cheng Xing was one of them, and it felt oddly unsettling.

She didn’t have time to dwell on it, though—it was almost time for Jiang Ciyi to get off work. Cheng Xing packed up and went to pick her up.

When she arrived, Jiang Ciyi hadn’t finished yet and didn’t reply to her messages. Cheng Xing sat in her car, casually opening a TV drama to pass the time.

She was patient, but after waiting over forty minutes, she grew restless.

The sun had sunk below the mountains, and the sunset glow was fading.

Cheng Xing was about to go upstairs when, at the elevator, she saw Jiang Ciyi and another woman inside.

The woman looked familiar.

She nodded to Cheng Xing first. “Cheng Xing, long time no see.”

Cheng Xing suddenly remembered—this was the woman who’d defended Jiang Ciyi the day she transmigrated.

Her name was… Su Lengyue.

“Hello,” Cheng Xing greeted. “You work here too?”

Su Lengyue was taken aback. “No.”

But her brow furrowed with suspicion. “You don’t know where I work?”

Cheng Xing: “…”

She genuinely didn’t, but she couldn’t admit that in front of Su Lengyue. “Of course I do. I just saw you coming out with my wife and thought you’d switched jobs.”

Su Lengyue, hearing this, thought Cheng Xing sounded jealous.

But that night at Tinglan Mansion…

Su Lengyue recalled the scene but didn’t bother meddling. As long as Jiang Ciyi was alive, it was fine.

“No,” Su Lengyue said. “I came to discuss something with Miss Jiang. We’re done now, so I’ll leave.”

Cheng Xing nodded.

Su Lengyue’s hand rested on Jiang Ciyi’s shoulder. “Miss Jiang, please consider what I said.”

Jiang Ciyi lowered her eyes. “The report is finalized, and the results won’t change, Miss Su.”

“Don’t you want to know the truth about your car accident?” Su Lengyue asked.

Jiang Ciyi fell silent.

“I can tell you more,” Su Lengyue said softly. “I look forward to your call.”

She started to leave but paused beside Cheng Xing, turning to look at her.

Her gaze was cold, different from Jiang Ciyi’s kind of cold.

Especially after mentioning the car accident, Cheng Xing felt a pang of guilt and looked away, then steadied herself. “Anything else, Miss Su?”

“Has Manchun contacted you recently?” Su Lengyue asked.

Cheng Xing shook her head. “I’ve blocked her.”

Su Lengyue: “…”

Whether it was Cheng Xing’s imagination or not, she felt Su Lengyue’s expression soften after her response.

“Well done,” Su Lengyue said impassively. “Please stay this ruthless in the future.”

That way, her foolish sister could study abroad in peace.

Cheng Xing smiled. “I’m married now. Keeping her contact info wouldn’t be appropriate.”

Su Lengyue’s brow furrowed slightly. “You and Miss Jiang?”

“I’ve thought it through. She’s my legal wife, so I’ll love her, protect her, and respect her from now on,” Cheng Xing said. “I was too stubborn before.”

Su Lengyue didn’t have time to care about her change of heart. She glanced at Jiang Ciyi.

Jiang Ciyi didn’t meet her gaze.

On the drive home, Cheng Xing asked Jiang Ciyi, “What did Su Lengyue talk to you about?”

“Some work stuff.” Jiang Ciyi replied vaguely.

She hadn’t finished work when Su Lengyue showed up at the lab, still about Wang Tingwan’s case.

Speaking of which, the case was related to Cheng Xing.

But Cheng Xing seemed unaware.

She didn’t even know about her second brother’s girlfriend’s death.

Seeing Jiang Ciyi’s lack of interest, Cheng Xing suppressed her curiosity and changed the subject. “How was your first day at the lab? Adjusting okay?”

Jiang Ciyi nodded. “It’s fine.”

Cheng Xing: “…”

It probably wasn’t entirely smooth; she couldn’t work as effortlessly as before.

Noticing Jiang Ciyi’s fatigue, Cheng Xing told her to rest her eyes and planned to take her out for dinner.

Jiang Ciyi asked why they weren’t eating at home. Cheng Xing said bluntly, “There are still two people at home. I’m afraid the food won’t sit well.”

To celebrate Jiang Ciyi’s first day at work, Cheng Xing took her to a hotpot restaurant.

They returned home only after eating their fill.

The mahjong table was still set up in Tinglan Mansion, but the hired players had left.

The old lady and Xu Zhaozhao sat on the sofa, looking exhausted, as if drained.

Before entering, Cheng Xing rubbed her face to muster a smile. “Grandmother, did you have fun today?”

The old lady opened her eyes and took a deep breath. “Are you deliberately messing with me?”

“Huh?” Cheng Xing’s expression turned aggrieved. “I stayed up until 3:30 a.m. to find you those players. And you think I’m messing with you? Who arranges entertainment to mess with someone?”

The old lady studied her expression and began to doubt herself.

“Everyone must be hungry.” Cheng Xing said. “Let’s eat.”

“Sister Xing, why do you smell like hotpot? Did you sneak out to eat without us?” Xu Zhaozhao’s sharp nose picked up the scent.

Without missing a beat, Cheng Xing said, “When I was waiting for your sister-in-law to finish work, I saw others eating and got so hungry I was drooling. But knowing you were home waiting, I didn’t eat a bite.”

Jiang Ciyi, who’d just seen her devour three plates of meat, couldn’t help but glance at her.

Cheng Xing’s tone was innocent, and the old lady, tired and hungry, stepped in. “Alright, let’s eat first.”

At the dinner table, Cheng Xing ate heartily, but Jiang Ciyi barely touched her chopsticks.

Xu Zhaozhao wasn’t convinced. She was certain she’d smelled hotpot on both Cheng Xing and Jiang Ciyi—they’d definitely gone out to eat behind their backs!

“Jiang Ciyi, why aren’t you eating? Did you two really go for hotpot?” Xu Zhaozhao asked in a pointed tone.

Jiang Ciyi glanced at her coolly. “With guests at home, why would we do that?”

Her words were righteous and upright.

“Sister Xing just said we’re not guests,” Xu Zhaozhao said, lowering her eyes as if hurt.

“Cheng Xing meant Grandmother. She’s her grandmother, not a guest. But you…” Jiang Ciyi trailed off, her gaze saying it all.

Before Xu Zhaozhao could complain to the old lady, Cheng Xing cut in. “Zhaozhao, I know you didn’t mean it. It’s fine. Apologize to your sister-in-law, and she’ll forgive you.”

Xu Zhaozhao: “?”

What had she done to warrant an apology?