Transmigrated As The Villainous Scumbag Wife Of A Disabled Tycoon - Chapter 57

57

Cheng Xing wasn’t annoyed, her face adorned with a constant smile.

But that smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Before tonight, some of the people present might not have known who Miss Cheng was, nor who Jiang Ciyi had married to warrant Jia Zhencheng, the most successful person in their class, personally inviting her to the reunion.

However, after this evening’s gathering, the room had been filled with whispered explanations.

Miss Cheng herself wasn’t the key; it was the Cheng Corporation behind her that mattered.

Some might not have heard of the Cheng Corporation, but they had surely bought clothing or furniture from its sub-brands or at least heard of its shopping malls.

The corporation paid billions in taxes to the Jianggang government each year, placing it on a level far above everyone else in the room.

They didn’t need her to offer much help—just a tiny bit slipping through her fingers or even a chance to exchange a few words with her would be enough to propel their careers to new heights.

Not to mention, many in attendance were salaried workers, and some were desperate to jump ship to the Cheng Corporation but lacked the connections to do so.

The entire evening, people swarmed around Jiang Ciyi, hoping to get a word in, only to find her surrounded, impenetrable.

Everyone wanted to hitch a ride on Jiang Ciyi’s coattails, hoping to forge a connection with the Cheng family.

Yet, unexpectedly, Cheng Xing appeared with such an imposing presence, and with just a few words, she positioned everyone in the room as her adversaries.

Joking aside, this was the Cheng family!

Jia Zhencheng, having clawed her way up in the corporate world, had long since honed her instincts. She was the first to react, offering a fake smile: “Miss Cheng, that’s a bit harsh, isn’t it? We’re all old classmates of Jiangjiang. We were just reluctant to see her leave and were teasing her a bit.”

“A joke is only a joke if the person hearing it finds it funny,” Cheng Xing said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “If the listener doesn’t find it amusing, then it’s just…”

She paused deliberately, letting the tension build as everyone held their breath, before delivering her words with force: “…bullying.”

“Are you sure about this?” Cheng Xing said, rubbing Jiang Ciyi’s hand, feeling it regain some warmth, no longer as cold as before.

Her gaze swept across the room. “Bullying someone from the Cheng family is the same as opposing the Cheng family.”

Jia Zhencheng immediately took half a step back, forcing a smile: “That’s too serious! I wouldn’t dare oppose the Cheng family even if I had a hundred times the courage.”

If her brother found out about this, wouldn’t he rally the company shareholders to oust her from the CEO position she’d fought so hard to secure?

Her seat hadn’t even warmed up yet.

She had won over a slew of supporters by promising to bridge connections with the Cheng family. Offending Cheng Xing at this critical moment…

Jia Zhencheng swallowed hard, about to explain further, when Cheng Xing cut in: “You’re Jia Zhencheng?”

“Yes, that’s me.” Jia Zhencheng said eagerly. “You’ve heard of me?”

“No.” Cheng Xing replied flatly.

Jia Zhencheng’s smile froze.

“But you have a fitting name,” Cheng Xing said earnestly. “It suits your vibe.”

Jia Zhencheng: “…”

Who couldn’t tell that was sarcasm?

Jia Zhencheng—fake sincerity.

Back in school, plenty of classmates had gossiped about her name behind her back. But with her domineering personality and her family’s donation of two buildings to the school, teachers treated her with utmost respect, and no one dared bring it up to her face.

Now, Cheng Xing had pierced through that veil, and someone even let out a low chuckle.

Jia Zhencheng shot a furious glance at the person who laughed, her hand clenching into a fist at her side. Luo Li, standing beside her, stepped in to smooth things over: “We’re all classmates here, and it’s a rare occasion. Why make things so tense?”

Luo Li’s words were always more pleasant than Jia Zhencheng’s, and with her sweet appearance, she had a natural charm. Her attempt to mediate didn’t come off as slick or insincere. She flashed a sweet smile at Cheng Xing: “Since Miss Cheng is here, why not come in for a drink? I know plenty of funny stories from Jiangjiang’s school days. Sharing them in front of her might embarrass her to death.”

Jiang Ciyi suddenly spoke up: “No need.”

She pulled her hand from Cheng Xing’s grasp, calmly and coldly scanning the faces in the room. They were far different from her memories, but their personalities hadn’t changed much.

Some who were nobodies back in school had become adept at navigating social situations, while others had grown more opportunistic under life’s pressures.

In the end, none had escaped the ugliness of human nature.

Unwilling to let the farce continue, Jiang Ciyi said flatly, “We’re leaving.”

She glanced up at Cheng Xing, who immediately understood and began pushing her wheelchair toward the exit.

The crowd surrounding them left no clear path, but Cheng Xing smiled at the group: “Mind making way?”

Two or three people hurriedly shuffled aside, clearing a path for them.

Before they got far, someone shouted, “Miss Cheng, do you dare say you don’t like Su Manchun anymore?”

Cheng Xing turned back, spotting a group of over a dozen people, impossible to pinpoint who had spoken.

But clearly, everyone was watching for drama.

As if her admitting she liked Su Manchun would instantly make Jiang Ciyi the target of ridicule.

Cheng Xing smiled gently, her voice soft but sharp: “You must live by the sea, huh? You sure have a lot of control over others.”

Everyone: “…?”

As they left the Guanlan Restaurant, the valet at the entrance respectfully handed Cheng Xing the car keys.

Cheng Xing stood side by side with Zheng Shuqing, taking the keys and asking her, “Did you drink?”

Jiang Ciyi answered, “Shuqing blocked drinks for me.”

Cheng Xing grinned. “Thanks, Sister Qing. I’ll treat you to dinner another day.”

Zheng Shuqing, not one to refuse drinks, was already tipsy from the alcohol she’d consumed in the private room. The earlier confrontation had sobered her up a bit, but the cool night air made her dizzy again. She pressed her temples and said, “It’s nothing. Jiangjiang and I are friends.”

“Then you can’t drive,” Cheng Xing said, thinking for a moment. “We’ll take you home first, and we’ll have someone drive your car back.”

Leaving a drunk girl in a stranger’s car felt irresponsible.

It was the best solution Cheng Xing could think of.

But Zheng Shuqing waved her off. “No need. Just treat Jiangjiang well—that’s more than enough. I’ll call a driver.”

“Even if I send you home, I’ll still treat A’Ci well,” Cheng Xing said, snatching the car keys from her hand and tossing them to the valet nearby. “Help get her car delivered.”

As a high-end VIP client of Guanlan Restaurant, the valet was more than happy to assist.

Cheng Xing’s car was already brought around. She opened the back door for Zheng Shuqing, and once she was settled, she leaned in mysteriously toward Jiang Ciyi. “You’ll never guess what I did.”

Jiang Ciyi tilted her head slightly, looking at her with calm curiosity.

Cheng Xing opened the passenger door, revealing two mechanical arms. Zheng Shuqing, from the back seat, gasped, “Holy crap! Transformers?!”

Jiang Ciyi understood immediately after a glance. “A lift system?”

“Exactly,” Cheng Xing said. “I had this car modified. From now on, you won’t need anyone’s help to get in or out.”

Jiang Ciyi maneuvered her wheelchair onto the tracks, pressed a button on the door, and was automatically lifted to the car’s height. Her wheelchair settled securely in the passenger seat’s place, replacing it entirely.

The seatbelt remained in its original position. Cheng Xing leaned over to fasten it for her, checking its tightness before closing the door.

Zheng Shuqing, curious, leaned forward to inspect the setup and marveled, “Technology changes lives.”

She sighed regretfully, “Why didn’t I think of this?”

Jiang Ciyi patted her head. “Go to sleep.”

Zheng Shuqing shook her head, her bright eyes fixed on Jiang Ciyi as she sincerely apologized, “I’m sorry, Jiangjiang. I shouldn’t have brought you here. I didn’t expect them to…”

She lowered her head. “Forget it. They’re just bad people. What kind of classmates are they? Being in the same class as them is like eight lifetimes of bad luck.”

“It’s fine.” Jiang Ciyi said. “You only learn by experiencing it.”

“We won’t have to deal with them anymore.” Jiang Ciyi added, handing Zheng Shuqing the invitation she’d received from Luo Li. “I’m not going to their wedding. Pass this back to her when the time comes.”

Zheng Shuqing hesitated after taking it. “Is that okay?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Jiang Ciyi countered.

“They’ll talk behind your back, saying you’re too high and mighty now that you’re successful,” Zheng Shuqing said, frowning. “I don’t want to go either, but I’m worried they’ll badmouth us.”

“Let them talk,” Jiang Ciyi said. “Their mouths are their own. Just walk your own path.”

Cheng Xing had already started the car to take Zheng Shuqing home first, but seeing the two deep in conversation—especially on such a meaningful topic—she felt it would be rude to interrupt.

But it was getting late, so she had to interject, “Sorry, ladies, mind if I cut in?”

“What?” Both turned to look at her in unison.

Cheng Xing, with the car’s hazard lights on, opened the navigation app. Before she could speak, Jiang Ciyi quickly typed a few letters, selected the second location, and started the navigation.

“Done,” Jiang Ciyi said. “Drive carefully.”

Cheng Xing gave an OK gesture. “Alright. Carry on.”

The interrupted conversation was hard to pick back up, especially since Zheng Shuqing was still tipsy. After talking to Jiang Ciyi, she slumped against the back seat, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.

The car grew quiet, and Cheng Xing turned on the car’s music.

Neither of them mentioned what had happened earlier.

But as they drove, Cheng Xing noticed Jiang Ciyi absentmindedly twisting the ring on her ring finger.

She didn’t know what Jiang Ciyi was thinking.

Cheng Xing’s own ring finger bore a diamond ring, sparkling and beautiful under the light.

Cheng Xing wasn’t one for accessories, especially rings or bracelets.

Her work often involved her hands—whether acupuncture or massages—so wearing a ring was inconvenient.

She’d never stopped to try on jewelry when passing by shops.

Yet, wearing a ring for the first time didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable.

She used to think a ring was just a small circle, a silly notion people used to trap love—a self-deceptive comfort for those in love.

But now, with the small circle on her finger, she found herself entertaining thoughts she shouldn’t have.

For a moment, Cheng Xing genuinely felt the ring had bound her entire life.

Then she shook her head, chuckling at her own naivety.

When they arrived at Zheng Shuqing’s neighborhood, Cheng Xing helped her out of the car. Jiang Ciyi used the lift system to get out and skillfully maneuvered her wheelchair to lead the way.

They had contacted Zheng Shuqing’s parents beforehand, and her father was waiting downstairs. He greeted Jiang Ciyi warmly, even inviting her and Cheng Xing to stay the night.

Jiang Ciyi exchanged pleasantries with him, asking after his and his wife’s health, deliberately softening her usual cold demeanor to seem warm.

Zheng Shuqing, overcome by alcohol, started babbling drunkenly and flailing her arms, even playfully smacking her father.

Her father, helpless, bid Jiang Ciyi farewell and told her to come over for dinner another day.

Once he left, Jiang Ciyi got back into the car, and Cheng Xing started driving again.

With just the two of them, the atmosphere shifted noticeably.

Jiang Ciyi no longer closed her eyes to feign sleep. Instead, she stared ahead, rubbing the ring on her finger, her tone heavy: “You planned this whole show in advance?”

“What?” Cheng Xing was stunned. “How could I know you were being bullied at the reunion?”

She was still a bit angry thinking about it. If she hadn’t arrived early and overheard those conversations, would Jiang Ciyi have just endured it silently?

Would she have let them bully her without a word?

And would she have let the rumors spread, slandering both her and Cheng Xing?

Cheng Xing had a lot to say, but the words circled in her throat and stayed there.

She had no right to blame Jiang Ciyi.

She was the one who promised to protect Jiang Ciyi, to stand by her side.

Yet she hadn’t kept that promise.

Whether it was Gu Qingfeng taking a hit from a falling steel pipe for Jiang Ciyi or tonight’s reunion, the person by Jiang Ciyi’s side was never her.

Jiang Ciyi must have felt wronged and hurt tonight. If Cheng Xing criticized her from an outsider’s perspective or a moral high ground, how was she any different from those who hurt her?

Cheng Xing pursed her lips, unwrapping a piece of gum at a red light to keep herself from saying something reckless.

Jiang Ciyi said calmly, “I didn’t go there to be bullied.”

“Hm?” Cheng Xing didn’t follow.

“It was only after I got there that I realized they hadn’t changed much,” Jiang Ciyi said with a faint smile, recalling the scenes from the private room. The curve of her lips was subtle, almost wry.

First, there was the male classmate who had copied her exam answers, only to blame her when the teacher caught him. He approached her, casually mentioning how she’d let him copy and how he’d bought her banana milk.

Jiang Ciyi, unruffled, asked, “What’s up?”

He paused, then smiled. “I heard you married Miss Cheng. Care to introduce me? Our company’s looking to discuss a deal with the Cheng Corporation.”

Jiang Ciyi replied, “Not involved, not interested.”

His face soured instantly. “And to think I bought you banana milk back then.”

In truth, he’d left the banana milk on her desk, and she’d slipped it into his drawer during a break. He drank it gleefully after gym class.

He’d also stolen snacks from her desk—snacks she’d saved up two months’ allowance to buy from an import store, recommended by He Miao in a letter describing their taste in vivid detail.

She’d been tempted despite not being one for snacks, splurging despite the steep price.

In the end, she only got one bite.

Then there was the female classmate who, under the pretense of being Zheng Shuqing, lured her to the sports equipment room, leaving her stuck there for three class periods and forced to write a self-criticism the next day. This classmate now approached her, saying she had her eye on a property developed by the Cheng Corporation and asked if she could get a discount.

Jiang Ciyi asked how much of a discount she wanted.

The classmate held up three fingers. “Thirty percent. You’re so successful, married into a wealthy family, living in Tinglan Mansion, where a square meter costs hundreds of thousands. Lend me some money for the down payment, yeah?”

Jiang Ciyi asked how much she wanted to borrow. “How much do you have? Maybe three million?”

Jiang Ciyi stared at her for a long moment, thinking it was absurd but not this absurd.

She calmly refused, “Not close, no money, not lending.”

The classmate was stunned, then snapped, “You’re so rich now, what’s wrong with lending me a bit? And to think I got the teacher to let you out of the equipment room.”

Jiang Ciyi remembered that day. The math teacher, who loved calling her to solve problems because of her neat handwriting and clear logic, had been furious when she wasn’t in class for a difficult problem. That classmate only confessed out of fear of being implicated.

And then there was Jia Zhencheng, the class committee member, daughter of an entrepreneur with a five-figure monthly allowance. She’d nominate herself for class scholarships while crossing out Jiang Ciyi’s name.

Tonight, raising a glass, she’d smiled and said, “Jiangjiang, you’ve married into a wealthy family. Normally, the richest one picks up the tab at reunions. I was planning to show off and pay, but looks like I can’t compete tonight.”

Jiang Ciyi replied calmly, “You can show off.”

Jia Zhencheng said, “My family’s wealth doesn’t even compare to a finger of the Cheng Corporation.”

“You organized it,” Jiang Ciyi said. “I don’t steal the spotlight.”

Jia Zhencheng’s smile stiffened for a few seconds before she sneered, “They say the richer you are, the stingier you get. Jiangjiang, what’s with you? Married into the Cheng family and still fussing over pennies?”

“You’re rich, you’re generous,” Jiang Ciyi said. “Whether I’m generous depends on the person.”

“There’s no reason for me to pay for your event. If I organize one, I’ll cover it.” As soon as she finished, someone chimed in, “When? Are you inviting us to Tinglan Mansion?”

“I’ve never been to a rich neighborhood in my life.”

“Are we really going to see the world with our old classmate?”

“…”

They discussed it openly, but Jiang Ciyi smiled and said, “Probably not in this lifetime. Maybe if you reincarnate early next time.”

Everyone: “…”

Jiang Ciyi had turned down nearly everyone trying to cozy up to her, rejecting them all night while watching their performances.

She didn’t care about offending them.

She thought she might feel angry or resentful.

Back in school, she had genuinely hated every classmate.

But tonight, she sat there calmly, like still water, undisturbed.

The evening’s farce had finally ended, and Jiang Ciyi thought it was over—until Cheng Xing appeared out of nowhere.

When she heard her classmates’ words, she couldn’t pretend she didn’t care.

For a moment, she even wavered, believing their claim that Cheng Xing was off enjoying herself in a crowd of beauties in Gangbei.

It was something Cheng Xing was capable of.

Even though Cheng Xing had texted her, saying she was waiting downstairs.

She still believed the other’s words.

She could calmly counter every comment thrown her way that night.

Except for the one about Cheng Xing’s childhood sweetheart, Su Manchun. If Su Manchun hadn’t gone abroad to study, Jiang Ciyi wouldn’t have had a chance to marry Cheng Xing.

She couldn’t refute it.

Because it was true.

Before she knew about Su Manchun, Jiang Ciyi could deceive herself a little.

But after learning about their past, it was hard to keep up the pretense.

When someone asked Cheng Xing if she dared deny liking Su Manchun, Jiang Ciyi’s heart hung in suspense.

She braced herself for the mockery and ridicule.

Because, as far as she knew, Cheng Xing had never publicly denied her feelings for Su Manchun.

Whether Su Manchun was abroad or had a partner, Cheng Xing’s devotion to her remained unwavering.

The final answer surprised everyone, but Jiang Ciyi still felt uneasy.

Looking at Cheng Xing, she felt this woman was like an elusive breeze.

But she had no intention of asking Cheng Xing for her true answer. Whether Cheng Xing still loved Su Manchun had nothing to do with her.

At least during their marriage, Cheng Xing wouldn’t meet Su Manchun again.

Jiang Ciyi casually recounted some of the notable exchanges from the private room to Cheng Xing, who suddenly asked, “Were you close with them back then?”

Jiang Ciyi paused. “Terrible.”

“Then why go tonight?” Cheng Xing asked.

“There was one I got along with decently,” Jiang Ciyi said.

“The one who smoothed things over?”

“Yeah, she’s getting married to Jia Zhencheng.”

“Then keep your distance from now on,” Cheng Xing suggested.

“Why?” Jiang Ciyi asked.

Cheng Xing parked the car in the mansion’s courtyard. Jiang Ciyi maneuvered her wheelchair out, and Cheng Xing leaned down, whispering, “Because two different kinds of people can’t share the same bed.”

Jiang Ciyi didn’t respond to this view.

“Didn’t you notice?” Cheng Xing continued. “When she was trying to smooth things over with me tonight, she didn’t consider your feelings. If she truly saw you as a friend, she wouldn’t have urged me to stay—she’d have stopped her fiancée from embarrassing you in front of everyone.”

“They’re about to get married,” Jiang Ciyi said calmly. “Our relationship is just average. Isn’t it normal for her not to take my side?”

“No,” Cheng Xing shook her head firmly. “A’Ci, you need people who are one hundred percent loyal to you—whether friends or lovers.”

The front door opened, and the sound of the wheelchair rolling over the tiles filled the air. Jiang Ciyi’s voice, neither light nor heavy, was like spring rain: “Then will you be one hundred percent loyal to me?”

Her words fell, but no reply came from Cheng Xing. Jiang Ciyi looked up to see Gu Qingfeng standing in the middle of the living room.

The film crew had already cleared out, and the mansion had been restored to its original state, making Gu Qingfeng’s presence feel out of place.

Judging by her expression, she’d likely overheard Jiang Ciyi’s words. Slightly embarrassed, Jiang Ciyi turned her face away, avoiding eye contact.

Cheng Xing, however, greeted her openly, asking what brought her there.

Gu Qingfeng glanced at Jiang Ciyi, pointing to a pile of gift boxes on the floor. “Thank you for cleaning my wound yesterday, Miss Jiang. These are thank-you gifts.”

“It was nothing. You got hurt because of me,” Jiang Ciyi said. “Is your injury better?”

“Much better.” Gu Qingfeng replied.

The atmosphere in the living room grew increasingly awkward. Cheng Xing cleared her throat, interrupting their exchange with a teasing smile. “Miss Gu, staying this late to wait for us—surely it’s not just to personally deliver gifts? Anything else?”

Gu Qingfeng snapped her fingers. “Smart.”

She pulled out her phone, opening her WeChat profile. “I’m very interested in both of you, so I waited to exchange contact info.”

Her words were directed at Jiang Ciyi, her gaze carrying a bold, almost predatory intensity—not that of a friend, but of a romantic interest.

Alarm bells rang in Cheng Xing’s mind—

No way, really?

Just as she was thinking of an excuse to refuse, Jiang Ciyi pushed the phone back, her cool, clear voice calm: “I don’t use WeChat, so I’ll pass for now.”