Transmigrated As The Villainous Scumbag Wife Of A Disabled Tycoon - Chapter 51

51

That night, Cheng Xing slept restlessly, her dreams fragmented and disjointed.

In her dream, she stood on a desolate street that stretched endlessly before her. Withered sycamore leaves fluttered on both sides of the road. Her classmates, friends, and family appeared before her, but as she approached, they vanished one by one.

She turned back, and the world suddenly changed color. White snow began to fall heavily, transforming the autumn scene into a winter wonderland.

And there, not far away, stood Jiang Ciyi.

Yes, standing.

She wore polished black boots, a white sweater, and her long hair was casually tied into a bun, revealing her slender, swan-like neck.

Cheng Xing called out to her joyfully but hesitated to approach, afraid Jiang Ciyi would disappear like the others.

Torn between hesitation and longing, she slowly stepped closer. Just as she was about to reach her, the alarm blared.

Almost instinctively, Cheng Xing silenced the alarm the moment it rang.

It was 5:50 a.m. The past two days, she had deliberately set the alarm early to torment the old lady and Xu Zhaozhao into mental exhaustion. But now that Guan Linmin was staying over, there was no need to continue the petty scheme.

She rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

But as she turned, her body brushed against something warm and soft, and her arm landed on a plush surface.

Cheng Xing snapped awake, cautiously squinting at Jiang Ciyi, who lay beside her.

Faint light filtered through the gap in the curtains, and the bedside lamp cast a soft glow.

By that dim light, Cheng Xing studied Jiang Ciyi. Her breathing was steady and even.

Carefully, Cheng Xing rolled over three or four times to the other side of the bed, smoothing out the double blanket as if nothing had happened.

Now wide awake, she couldn’t fall back asleep but didn’t want to get up either. Propping her head on her hand, she lay on her side, gazing at Jiang Ciyi.

Jiang Ciyi’s sleeping posture was serene, likely due to her legs. She always slept flat on her back, hands resting on her abdomen, never shifting positions during the night.

Cheng Xing had noticed the same posture when she woke briefly the previous night.

The longer she looked, the more she marveled at Jiang Ciyi’s face—a masterpiece of divine craftsmanship.

Beauty comes in two forms: bone structure and skin. Jiang Ciyi blended both flawlessly.

Her bone structure was impeccable, her skin breathtaking.

In everyday life, Jiang Ciyi never allowed anyone to stare at her so openly. A glance too long would be met with her icy, frost-like gaze. So Cheng Xing had never observed her so quietly before.

Asleep, Jiang Ciyi was utterly defenseless. Her long lashes framed her snow-white skin, giving her a soft, almost delicate appearance.

Cheng Xing instinctively wanted to poke her cheek to see if it was as soft as a cloud. Her hand lifted, hovering in the air, but she didn’t dare touch, afraid of waking her.

Her fingers curled back, and she let out a soft chuckle.

Burying her face in her arm to muffle the sound, her body trembled slightly with suppressed laughter, causing the bed to shake. She froze, her smile fading.

Cheng Xing pursed her lips, trying to recall how she fell asleep last night, but her memory was hazy.

The last thing she remembered was throwing herself into Jiang Ciyi’s arms, her face buried in her neck, eyes burning as she choked out, “I don’t know how to keep going, Jiang Ciyi.”

Jiang Ciyi’s hand had rested gently on her back, her voice soft. “It’s okay. The clouds will part, and you’ll see the sunrise.”

Cheng Xing had rambled on, her face still pressed against Jiang Ciyi’s neck. “I can’t say anything to anyone. I don’t even have friends anymore. Every day, I wake up to a mess waiting for me, and I can’t find a way out.”

Jiang Ciyi only patted her back gently.

In that moment, Jiang Ciyi was tender, though it was clear she wasn’t skilled at comforting others.

That single sentence was the extent of her consolation.

Cheng Xing had poured out her heart—dealing with the old lady and Xu Zhaozhao at home, being ostracized at work. At some point, her life had become a tangled mess with no clear starting point.

Let alone a way to unravel it.

Exhausted, she had eventually fallen asleep.

She didn’t know when Jiang Ciyi had drifted off.

The emotional turmoil of the night, fueled by hormonal imbalances, had passed, leaving only endless embarrassment.

Cheng Xing dreaded the moment Jiang Ciyi woke up. If she asked about last night, Cheng Xing would want to crawl into a hole.

Then she remembered the dream—Jiang Ciyi standing, her legs long and straight. It was such a pity she couldn’t stand in reality.

Rubbing her eyes, Cheng Xing quietly got out of bed and slipped into the study to work on her treatment plan.

At 6:10 a.m., the living room blared with the unmistakable tune of a square-dance anthem.

Cheng Xing, who had just sat down with her notebook to start on the treatment plan, froze for two seconds.

…Was this Xu Zhaozhao’s retaliation?

She rummaged through the drawer for her earphones but couldn’t find them. Then she remembered they were in the vanity drawer, but she couldn’t go back to the bedroom to get them.

Jiang Ciyi hadn’t worn earplugs before bed. If Cheng Xing opened the door, the aggressive grassland dance music would surely wake her light-sleeping wife.

Giving up on the notebook, Cheng Xing stood in the study and practiced a set of Baduanjin exercises until she worked up a slight sweat.

The music downstairs continued.

Cheng Xing went downstairs, mentally preparing a barrage of sharp retorts, her anger simmering.

But then she saw Ms. Guan, elegantly sipping bird’s nest soup on the living room sofa, with Sister Zhou, dressed in a sharp suit, standing beside her.

Cheng Xing: “?”

Ms. Guan stood up as soon as she saw her, raising her voice over the booming music. “Xingxing, did we wake you?”

Cheng Xing glanced at Sister Zhou, who gave her a gentle smile, as if seeking praise: Pretty good, right?

“No,” Cheng Xing replied to Ms. Guan. “I was already up. What’s this about?”

She nodded toward the blaring speaker.

Ms. Guan took her hand, shouting over the noise, “Come have some bird’s nest! Your grandmother sent it over specially. It’s good for your skin. You work so hard.”

Cheng Xing: “…?”

Her job was practically nonexistent—aside from causing her mental strain, it wasn’t tiring at all.

Though, to be fair, the mental strain was her own fault. Growing up in an environment where she always excelled, she had an innate refusal to lose.

After Jiang Ciyi’s comforting words, she felt much better, so Ms. Guan’s comment made her feel a bit guilty. “It’s not hard work. Why are you up so early?”

From her time at the old residence, Cheng Xing knew Ms. Guan usually slept until nine.

Her voice couldn’t compete with the speaker, so Ms. Guan didn’t hear her. She signaled Sister Zhou to turn off the music before leaning in to listen.

Cheng Xing repeated her question.

Ms. Guan sat back on the sofa, calmly sipping her bird’s nest. “What else? Was I supposed to watch you get bullied?”

She gestured for Cheng Xing to join her. “I’m thirty years younger than that old lady. I can outlast her.”

Ms. Guan elegantly set down her porcelain bowl. “Your trick was ruthless. When I arrived yesterday, the old lady looked five years older, and even Xu Zhaozhao was drained. Last night, when I talked to her, her brain could barely keep up.”

Cheng Xing gave a light laugh. “So you’re here to back me up?”

“Why else?” Ms. Guan shook her head helplessly. “I put up with her for a long time when I was younger, but in the end, I couldn’t take it.”

“How long did you endure her?” Cheng Xing asked.

Ms. Guan thought for a moment. “Half a month, maybe. Then she went abroad.”

But Ms. Guan, as the pampered princess of the Guan family, wasn’t someone the old lady dared to cross too much.

Her aunt, on the other hand, had been relentlessly tormented by the old lady at the old residence.

Ms. Guan recounted these old stories with animated gossip, showing no signs of sleepiness.

Cheng Xing took a sip of the bird’s nest—it wasn’t to her taste, but she set it aside casually, thinking it might be good for Jiang Ciyi’s health. “Aren’t you tired?” she asked Ms. Guan lightly.

“Not at all,” Ms. Guan said with a smile. “I slept until noon yesterday.”

Cheng Xing gave her a thumbs-up. She was about to tell Sister Zhou to fire the maid who let the film crew in yesterday, but before she could, Sister Zhou said, “Madam has already taken care of it.”

Ms. Guan didn’t take credit, saying calmly, “We can’t keep someone who betrays us.”

Cheng Xing agreed.

Then Ms. Guan instructed Sister Zhou to turn the speaker back on at full volume. Leaning close to Cheng Xing, she whispered, “The old lady’s up to something, letting Xu Zhaozhao run wild at her age.”

“Who knows?” Cheng Xing gave a bitter smile.

“And Xu Zhaozhao—she wasn’t like this before. Ever since you and Xiao Jiang got married…” Ms. Guan paused. “She’s been acting like she’s possessed.”

Cheng Xing froze, recalling Xu Zhaozhao’s depiction in the original story. She shook her head helplessly. “Nothing I can do.”

“It’s your fault too, provoking her for no reason,” Ms. Guan said, looping her arm through Cheng Xing’s. “I used to worry you’d say you wanted to marry her.”

Cheng Xing: “…”

Mother-daughter heart-to-hearts were rare, and Ms. Guan, like any typical mother, began to ramble, even bringing up childhood stories.

The speaker blared for an hour. The old lady and Xu Zhaozhao emerged from their rooms almost simultaneously, both looking more haggard than before.

Ms. Guan was quick to act. The moment the door opened, she pulled Cheng Xing up to dance.

She had no experience with square dancing but had studied classical dance. The music and her movements didn’t match, but she performed with conviction.

The old lady turned off the speaker herself and sat on the sofa, visibly irritated.

Ms. Guan frowned, asking softly, “Did we disturb you?”

“I’m not in great health lately, so I thought dancing with Xingxing might do me some good. I can only keep up with the youngsters to stay active.” She even invited the old lady, “You’re up—want to join us?”

The old lady shot her a sidelong glance, then looked at Cheng Xing, her voice cold. “Enough. I know you all want me gone.”

“Where’s that coming from?” Ms. Guan feigned innocence, but Cheng Xing sat on the sofa, meeting the old lady’s gaze with resolve. “Yes.”

Ms. Guan glanced at Cheng Xing’s determined expression and fell silent, taking a seat beside her.

In the past, she might have doubted Cheng Xing, but now she was willing to give her a chance to handle things herself.

When a child wants to grow, a parent shouldn’t hold them back—only support them.

Cheng Xing faced the old lady. “I respect you as my grandmother, but you brought Xu Zhaozhao to Tinglan Mansion, moving into the home of a newlywed couple not even a month into their marriage. Do you think that’s appropriate? What are you here to inspect? Whether Jiang Ciyi and I are in love?”

“Hmph,” the old lady scoffed dismissively.

“A relationship between two people is like drinking water—only they know its warmth or coldness,” Cheng Xing said firmly. “Even if there were issues between Jiang Ciyi and me, that’s our business. We’re newlyweds, inseparable, and you’re not without options. You own dozens of properties in Jianggang. I can’t understand why you’d come to Tinglan Mansion. The only variable is Xu Zhaozhao. You were a formidable figure in your youth—don’t ruin your reputation in your old age because of a younger generation.”

“You’re lecturing me now?” The old lady gave her a sidelong glance.

Just as Cheng Xing was about to retort, the old lady added, “Since when did you learn to speak so logically? Did your wife teach you?”

Cheng Xing: “…”

Her uneducated original self made it risky to sound too articulate.

“People grow,” Cheng Xing said, feigning calm. “I’ve been teaching myself a lot lately. With my brothers so accomplished, I can’t keep embarrassing the Cheng family.”

“Good to know,” the old lady said, closing her eyes. Her face screamed exhaustion. “Xu Zhaozhao and I will move out of Tinglan Mansion today, but on one condition.”

“What?” Cheng Xing asked.

“The film crew needs to shoot here,” the old lady said. “Yesterday, you made quite a scene. All of Jianggang knows the Cheng family was ‘robbed.’”

“I had no choice. I couldn’t convince you, so I took legal action.”

“Do we have a deal?” the old lady asked.

Cheng Xing paused, then agreed. “Deal.”

Ms. Guan tugged at her sleeve, worried she was compromising too much, but Cheng Xing added, “It has to be on a rest day, and I’ll supervise the whole time.”

The old lady glanced at Xu Zhaozhao, who nodded.

“Fine,” the old lady conceded. “You keep your word.”

She then made a call to book a flight to the U.S. that evening.

After hanging up, she stared at Cheng Xing for a moment, her tone unusually kind but still awkward. “You’d better keep this up. Learn more, and don’t disgrace the Cheng family.”

Cheng Xing: “…Alright.”

Once the old lady and Xu Zhaozhao had Sister Zhou prepare the car and left, Ms. Guan said in disbelief, “She’s really gone? Pinch me.”

Cheng Xing didn’t hesitate, pinching her arm. Ms. Guan gasped in pain. “You actually pinched me!”

“I’m obedient,” Cheng Xing said with a smile. “Alright, let’s get ready for breakfast.”

“Okay,” Ms. Guan said, then asked, “Are you okay with the film crew shooting here? If you’re not, I’ll figure something out.”

“How would you do that?” Cheng Xing asked.

“Your brother runs an agency. We have connections in the entertainment industry. You think we can’t handle this?” Ms. Guan frowned, recalling something. “I never approved of Xu Zhaozhao going to film school. I knew she’d cause trouble. And sure enough…”

“It’s fine,” Cheng Xing reassured her. “I can handle it.”

If it were any other crew, Cheng Xing might have hesitated.

But this crew had Gu Qingfeng.

This was a chance to arrange a meeting between Jiang Ciyi and Gu Qingfeng.

If the system hadn’t punished her yesterday, she might have needed DNA evidence to confirm her suspicions. But now, she was certain—Gu Qingfeng was from Jianggang’s mysterious first family, Jiang Ciyi’s sister.

It was a win-win opportunity. Only a fool would pass it up.

Cheng Xing comforted Ms. Guan a bit more. Ms. Guan looked at her with such affection it practically overflowed, as if Cheng Xing had suffered some great injustice. “Our Xingxing is so sensible now. Tell me, what do you want? Mommy will buy it for you.”

Cheng Xing: “…?”

In the past, she might have answered instantly.

Back then, her allowance was limited. But now, she had a black card and could shop at some malls without even swiping it.

Last time she took Jiang Ciyi shopping, it was all on recognition alone.

Material desires had faded. After a moment’s thought, she said, “How about… cash?”

Ms. Guan promptly transferred her two million.

Cheng Xing: “…”

The rich had invented their own currency.

As usual, Cheng Xing drove Jiang Ciyi to work that morning. Ms. Guan stood at the door, giving endless instructions and handing Jiang Ciyi a warmed bottle of fresh milk for the road.

Jiang Ciyi looked at her, touched. Ms. Guan smiled warmly. “Xiao Jiang, don’t work too hard. If you don’t feel like working, it’s fine. Call me if you’re tired. I’ll take you shopping or introduce you to some aunties to play cards with.”

Jiang Ciyi: “…Alright.”

In the morning rush hour traffic, Jiang Ciyi asked about the old lady and Xu Zhaozhao. Cheng Xing filled her in.

As they chatted, Jiang Ciyi poked a straw into the milk and sipped, asking, “Your mom… she’s a bit strange.”

“Nothing strange about it,” Cheng Xing said. “Didn’t she show you kindness back at the old residence?”

“That’s when it started feeling strange,” Jiang Ciyi said, glancing at her. “Ever since you started acting strange, your mom did too.”

Cheng Xing: “…”

Jiang Ciyi’s observational skills were razor-sharp.

“She used to think you were beneath the Cheng family,” Cheng Xing explained. “But after learning about the awful things I did to you, she gave me a lecture.”

Jiang Ciyi let out an “oh,” showing no strong reaction to the past. She just said calmly, “You got scolded for nothing. Feel wronged?”

Cheng Xing: “…Huh?”

A car behind them honked, and she didn’t catch it. She asked again, but Jiang Ciyi didn’t repeat herself.

Curious, Cheng Xing pressed, but Jiang Ciyi only shook her head.

The calmer Jiang Ciyi was, the more curious Cheng Xing became. Distracted while pestering her, she nearly ran a red light. Slamming the brakes, she stopped just at the crosswalk.

The sudden stop sent their bodies lurching forward. Jiang Ciyi, mid-sip, spilled milk over her seat and clothes.

Cheng Xing engaged the handbrake and grabbed tissues to wipe it up. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Jiang Ciyi wiped her clothes, unfazed. “It’s fine.”

But she added, “You need to focus when driving.”

“Got it,” Cheng Xing said, noticing milk on Jiang Ciyi’s lips. She pointed to her own mouth. “You’ve got some here.”

Jiang Ciyi wiped but missed it.

“Still there,” Cheng Xing said.

Jiang Ciyi tried again, still missing. Unable to resist, Cheng Xing reached over, her warm fingertip brushing Jiang Ciyi’s soft lips. The touch was fleeting.

The atmosphere in the car shifted subtly.

Cheng Xing felt a flush of heat and coughed to cover her unease.

The car behind honked again. Seeing the green light, Cheng Xing started driving, hoping to dispel the awkwardness.

At the next red light, she glanced at Jiang Ciyi, who was calmly sipping her milk, unaffected.

Cheng Xing wanted to break the silence—and the one-sided embarrassment. Jiang Ciyi seemed perfectly fine.

Fidgeting with her neck and tapping the steering wheel, Cheng Xing glanced at her several times, noticing her focused on the milk. Desperate for a casual topic, she asked, “Is the milk good?”

Jiang Ciyi glanced at her. “You didn’t try it?”

Cheng Xing: “…”

There was milk on the table, but after the bland bird’s nest, she hadn’t bothered.

“No,” Cheng Xing admitted as she started driving again. “It smells nice, though. Milky.”

Jiang Ciyi paused.

Cheng Xing realized she’d stated the obvious. Of course milk smells milky!

“I didn’t mean…” she started to explain, but Jiang Ciyi cut in. “It’s rich and fragrant, no off-taste. It’s smooth and subtly sweet, not cloying like powdered milk. The best milk I’ve ever had.”

She described it with such earnestness.

Cheng Xing blinked. “Okay.”

The topic ended with Jiang Ciyi’s sincerity.

At the next stop, Jiang Ciyi offered the bottle, the straw touching Cheng Xing’s lips. “Want to try?”

The straw bore Jiang Ciyi’s faint lipstick mark.

In a daze, Cheng Xing followed her instinct, biting the straw and taking a big sip.

The warm milk hit her tongue, just as Jiang Ciyi described.

If Cheng Xing had to describe it, she couldn’t match Jiang Ciyi’s precision.

“How is it?” Jiang Ciyi asked, taking the bottle back and sipping, her expression content.

Cheng Xing’s lips curved, her ears tinged red in the sunlight filtering into the car. “Really good.”

She added, “The best milk I’ve ever had.”

Jiang Ciyi’s lips curled. “Right?”

Her tone held a hint of pride, like a kid sharing a favorite treat and getting validation.

They reached the lab building. Jiang Ciyi had a quarter of the bottle left and offered it to Cheng Xing. “Want more?”

“You have it,” Cheng Xing said, reluctant to take it. “I’ll walk you up.”

“Keep it,” Jiang Ciyi said. “I’m full.”

Cheng Xing hesitated, seeing the reluctance in Jiang Ciyi’s eyes.

It wasn’t anything precious—just an ordinary bottle of milk, handed to her warmly by an elder before they left.

To Jiang Ciyi, it reminded her of her grandmother, who used to slip her snacks before school.

An ordinary bottle of milk carried deeper meaning.

But Cheng Xing liked it too, and she’d been upset yesterday, driving her to work every day… Jiang Ciyi was willing to share.

After a moment, Cheng Xing smiled. “How about we finish it together before going up?”

Jiang Ciyi: “…Sure.”

Cheng Xing took the bottle, holding the straw to Jiang Ciyi’s lips.

Jiang Ciyi took a small sip, leaving a lip print. Cheng Xing sipped, adding her own.

They shared the ordinary bottle of milk without overthinking it.

After finishing, Cheng Xing winked at Jiang Ciyi. “I’ll bring you one every day.”

Jiang Ciyi: “Really?”

Cheng Xing nodded. “But you need to wipe your mouth first.”

Jiang Ciyi blinked, surprised. “…Where?”

Instead of pointing, Cheng Xing reached over, her fingertip brushing Jiang Ciyi’s lips again. She suddenly realized how close they were—her body half-leaning into the passenger seat, arm propped on the center console, eyes locked on Jiang Ciyi’s.

Jiang Ciyi’s light-colored eyes reflected her face. Cheng Xing felt a wave of heat and coughed awkwardly.

“You…” Jiang Ciyi frowned, staring at her. “Do you want to kiss me?”

Cheng Xing: “…Huh?”

The question snapped her back to reality. She pulled back, flustered, sitting upright. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Jiang Ciyi paused. “Wouldn’t dare, not don’t want to.”

Cheng Xing glanced at her. “Do you want to?”

Jiang Ciyi shook her head. “I don’t have that kind of desire.”

Cheng Xing: “…”

“Then if I wanted to, would you let me?” Cheng Xing teased, half-joking.

“We could try,” Jiang Ciyi said, pursing her lips. “My body doesn’t seem to reject…”

Before she finished, Cheng Xing leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

Light as a dragonfly’s touch, fleeting as a passing cloud.

Afterward, Cheng Xing played it cool. “You said I could. Your face is soft.”

Jiang Ciyi: “…”