Transmigrated As The Villainous Scumbag Wife Of A Disabled Tycoon - Chapter 68

68

The single strand of white hair mixed among the thousands of black strands was not conspicuous, but it shocked Cheng Xing immensely.

Under her family’s care, her health had become even better than that of an average person. She took great care of herself, and her hair was dark and lustrous. After arriving here, the original owner’s hair had been damaged by repeated reckless dyeing and perming, but Cheng Xing had dyed it again and meticulously cared for it with every wash, restoring it significantly. Even the newly grown black hair blended seamlessly with the dyed color.

Yet, in just a few days, she had grown a white hair.

At first, Cheng Xing didn’t believe it. Half-doubting, she leaned closer and saw the white hair wrapped around Jiang Ciyi’s slender fingers, tightly coiled around them.

Cheng Xing didn’t bother looking further and immediately asked her to let go. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“It’s fine,” Jiang Ciyi said, avoiding the white hair and looking around for a place to put it.

Cheng Xing suggested throwing it in the trash, but Jiang Ciyi shook her head. “Your first white hair—how could we not keep it as a memento?”

“Shouldn’t we avoid pulling it out?” Cheng Xing asked. “They say pulling one out makes ten more grow.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Jiang Ciyi replied confidently.

Cheng Xing was surprised. “Really?”

Jiang Ciyi paused. “I don’t know.”

She added, “I’ve never had white hair.”

Seeing Jiang Ciyi awake and more spirited than expected, Cheng Xing felt a wave of relief. Their conversation flowed more easily. “Maybe it’s because I haven’t slept well these past few days, so I got a white hair. Once I rest up, it probably won’t happen again. After all, I’m only in my twenties.”

“There’s such a thing as premature graying.” Jiang Ciyi teased, as if deliberately contradicting her.

Cheng Xing frowned. “Don’t jinx me. I don’t want to have a head full of white hair at such a young age.”

“White-haired immortal,” Jiang Ciyi said. “Some people even dye their hair white on purpose.”

“They dye it silver or gray, right?” Cheng Xing pondered for a moment. “Those colors were trendy for a while, but I’ve never seen anyone dye their hair pure white.”

“Then you haven’t seen much.”

“…”

After some playful banter, they finally moved past the heavy topic.

But Cheng Xing couldn’t forget it. When she went to the bathroom to wash her hands, she stared at herself in the mirror, carefully checking for any other white hairs.

The sink faced the hospital bed, so Jiang Ciyi could see everything. She watched as Cheng Xing fiddled with her hair, splashed water on her face, and held her face in her hands for a moment before turning off the faucet and wiping her face dry with a towel.

When Cheng Xing stepped out of the bathroom, she put on her familiar gentle smile.

Yet, for some reason, Jiang Ciyi could still sense her unease.

The face was familiar, the smile was familiar, but the unease hidden in the corners of her eyes and brows was unmistakable.

Jiang Ciyi didn’t know what Cheng Xing had gone through during the days she was unconscious.

How could someone develop white hair in just a few days?

Such a dramatic, TV-drama-like plot happening in real life felt surreal.

Jiang Ciyi wasn’t narcissistic enough to think it was all because of her or because of love.

Perhaps it was also regret and guilt over Xu Zhaozhao’s descent into darkness.

After all, Xu Zhaozhao had been on good terms with her for many years.

But these were just Jiang Ciyi’s guesses. During her coma, she could hear someone softly calling her name. Though she couldn’t open her eyes, the voice was familiar.

It was Cheng Xing.

Jiang Ciyi couldn’t quite understand why Cheng Xing would do this, just as she couldn’t fathom why Cheng Xing was so good to her.

She had speculated many times but found no clear answers.

Cheng Xing was like an opponent who didn’t play by the rules, effortlessly breaking through all her defenses.

Admittedly, when Jiang Ciyi woke up and saw Cheng Xing for the first time, she was deeply moved—especially when she saw the tear of overwhelming joy in Cheng Xing’s eyes. It was no less shocking than when she first met Wang Tingwan, who casually offered to give her a house.

Perhaps even more so.

In that moment, Jiang Ciyi truly felt that she held an important place in Cheng Xing’s heart.

Her rational mind didn’t want to believe it, but how could one’s entire life be governed solely by reason?

Her heart ached inexplicably, mirroring the emotions in Cheng Xing’s eyes.

Those eyes were heartbreaking.

Confusion, panic, relief at regaining what was lost, unease, and helplessness…

For the first time, Jiang Ciyi saw so many emotions in someone’s gaze.

If this was an act, then Cheng Xing was an extraordinary actress, capable of surpassing Gu Qingeng to win a Bocas Award for Best Actress.

In the clash between reason and emotion, emotion ultimately won.

Jiang Ciyi spoke slowly, “Cheng Xing.”

“Hm?” Cheng Xing walked to her bedside, her voice gentle. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling uncomfortable?”

“No,” Jiang Ciyi said. “I’m fine.”

“How could you be?” Cheng Xing touched her head. “Ciyi, you don’t have to comfort me. If you’re feeling unwell, just say it. Don’t hold it in.”

“Why would I comfort you?” Jiang Ciyi chuckled softly. “If it doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t hurt. Would comforting you make me feel better?”

“It seems like it would.” Cheng Xing replied.

Jiang Ciyi’s smile froze, and she fell silent for a moment.

Cheng Xing continued, “You’re kind-hearted. You’d probably feel guilty that I grew a white hair while you were unconscious, so you don’t want to trouble me.”

Jiang Ciyi hadn’t expected Cheng Xing to read her so accurately.

She had indeed pinpointed her thoughts perfectly.

She wasn’t uncomfortable, but if something like what Cheng Xing described happened, she would indeed act this way.

She wasn’t used to being a burden to others.

If she became a source of trouble or a burden to someone, she would carry a heavy psychological weight.

When advising others, Jiang Ciyi could be a great philosopher, but when it came to herself, she was trapped in an inescapable cycle.

Having experienced the coldness of human relationships too early, she had also learned too soon that there’s no such thing as a free lunch.

No one loves you without reason, and no one indulges you without limits.

But… having her thoughts exposed was a complicated feeling.

“I’m not some kind-hearted person,” Jiang Ciyi said. “Miss Cheng, you’ve misunderstood me.”

“Is that so?” Cheng Xing smiled gently. “Then let me keep misunderstanding you.”

Jiang Ciyi: “…”

“But I really don’t feel uncomfortable. Would I lie to you?” Jiang Ciyi countered.

Cheng Xing shook her head. “No. I hope you’ll always tell me the truth.”

“I’m telling the truth now.”

“That’s great.”

Jiang Ciyi was slightly taken aback, unsure where Cheng Xing’s serene expression and satisfied tone came from. Then Cheng Xing asked, “How much do you remember from before you fell unconscious?”

“Everything.” Jiang Ciyi said.

Cheng Xing asked, “Really?”

Jiang Ciyi curved her lips. “What, you want me to have amnesia?”

“Of course not.” Cheng Xing paused before continuing, “It’s been so long since we talked. I almost forgot what your tone sounds like.”

Jiang Ciyi: “…”

“You don’t remember if you were like this before.”

“Like what?” Jiang Ciyi asked.

Cheng Xing thought for a moment. “Gentle.”

Jiang Ciyi: “…”

Her face turned cold, swallowing back the words she had wanted to say. Her tone grew cool. “You sure know how to pick adjectives.”

“What?” Cheng Xing raised an eyebrow.

“None of them suit me.”

Her tone was cold, but Cheng Xing didn’t mind. As long as she was awake, that was enough.

The heavy clouds finally broke, and a clap of thunder roared. A bolt of lightning streaked across the dark sky, briefly illuminating the world.

Cheng Xing glanced out the window, then at Jiang Ciyi, asking if she was tired.

Jiang Ciyi shook her head. “I’m fine. Did it rain while I was unconscious?”

“It did,” Cheng Xing said. “The weather forecast says it’ll rain for the next few days. Looking at the sky, there’s probably a big storm coming today.”

“You can read the sky?” Jiang Ciyi asked lightly.

“I can read the weather forecast.” Cheng Xing replied.

Jiang Ciyi: “.”

The hospital room fell quiet, but Cheng Xing didn’t want the silence to linger. She casually started a conversation, asking if Jiang Ciyi had dreamed while unconscious.

Jiang Ciyi said she hadn’t dreamed, but it felt like her body was sinking endlessly in the deep sea, her eyelids too heavy to open. She also heard someone calling her name.

Cheng Xing asked if she could tell who it was.

Jiang Ciyi paused, looking directly at her. “It was you.”

Cheng Xing’s lips curved into a smile. “I knew talking to you would work.”

She mentioned wearing a sterile suit to enter the room and talk to Jiang Ciyi by her bedside. She also said she hadn’t gone to work these past few days. When Daisy asked, she mentioned being at the hospital, and Daisy thought she had self-harmed, panicking and saying she’d visit. But when she heard it was because her “wife” was sick, Daisy didn’t come.

Cheng Xing complained, “I don’t even know what kind of image I have in Daisy’s mind now.”

Probably a depressed, anxious corporate slave ready to leave the world at any moment.

Cheng Xing said, “I always thought I was cheerful and optimistic.”

Then she asked Jiang Ciyi, “What do you think?”

Jiang Ciyi pursed her lips. “You’ve misunderstood yourself.”

Cheng Xing: “?”

“Then what do you think I’m like?” Cheng Xing’s curiosity was piqued. “I’m curious—what’s my image in the eyes of Forensic Doctor Jiang?”

Jiang Ciyi didn’t answer directly but countered, “And you? What’s my image in your eyes?”

Cheng Xing didn’t hesitate. “Cold on the outside…”

She stopped after two words, laughing lightly. “Forensic Doctor Jiang, you’re not playing fair. I asked first, so you should answer first.”

Jiang Ciyi frowned at the title. “Change how you address me.”

She had expressed her dislike for it before, but after her coma, Cheng Xing had reverted to calling her that.

To her surprise, Cheng Xing drawled, “To match your ‘Miss Cheng,’ I can only call you Forensic Doctor Jiang. If you want a different title, why not change mine first?”

Jiang Ciyi found herself in a dilemma. What should she call her?

“Then I’ll call you Cheng Xing,” Jiang Ciyi said, sticking to what she’d used before.

“Then I’d have to call you Jiang Ciyi,” Cheng Xing said, shaking her head. “But I prefer calling you Ciyi.”

“Then what do you want me to call you?” Jiang Ciyi asked.

“Call me Xingxing,” Cheng Xing said. “Everyone calls me that. We’re so close now, and you’re still being so formal…”

“Xingxing,” Jiang Ciyi said without hesitation. “Now tell me your impression of me.”

Cheng Xing wagged her finger. “No, no, no. Ciyi, don’t try to dodge. I asked first.”

Jiang Ciyi: “…”

Jiang Ciyi dealt with many people, often elites in their fields.

They were all smart, but she rarely felt so outmaneuvered.

Perhaps it was her face that made people lower their guard during casual chats, falling into her conversational traps.

Afterward, they’d laugh and call her clever.

Some might call her cunning.

But someone like Cheng Xing was rare.

Even during their rapid-fire Q&A in the car, she hadn’t managed to get anything out of her.

She seemed harmless and unguarded, but her mouth was like an impenetrable wall.

After all this back-and-forth, Cheng Xing still managed to steer the conversation back to her original question. Jiang Ciyi conceded.

“Changeable, unpredictable, hard to understand,” Jiang Ciyi summarized.

Cheng Xing: “?”

“That’s a first. Quite novel.” Cheng Xing said, stunned.

Jiang Ciyi didn’t comment further. “Your turn.”

Cheng Xing was straightforward. “Cold on the outside, warm on the inside, a little angel. Smart, beautiful, sensitive, but great at thinking of others.”

Jiang Ciyi: “…”

“That’s also a first. Quite novel.” Jiang Ciyi echoed her words.

They stared at each other, and time seemed to freeze.

At some point, one of them smiled, and then both burst into laughter, as if sharing the joy of surviving a calamity.

Cheng Xing was relieved to have someone to talk to again and wanted to keep chatting, about anything.

Looking at Cheng Xing, Jiang Ciyi found a long-lost desire to express herself.

She knew they were talking nonsense—pointless, meaningless chatter.

But after days of silence and the memory of Xu Zhaozhao driving into the sea, the water flooding the car and the immense pressure stealing her breath, with death so close—she had woken up.

So she allowed herself to indulge in this pointless chatter.

Useless words were also proof of being alive.

People spend much of their lives wasting time, and now, having survived, she began to embrace this wastefulness.

But they both deliberately avoided mentioning that person, that event.

After the joy, Jiang Ciyi asked about Xu Zhaozhao, and Cheng Xing told her everything.

Hearing of Xu Zhaozhao’s death, Jiang Ciyi was momentarily stunned, then said in disbelief, “She’s really gone, just like that?”

“Yeah.” Cheng Xing said. “Today’s her funeral.”

The rain came pouring down, the heavy droplets hammering the glass as if to shatter it, casting a gray veil over the city, turning day into night.

Jiang Ciyi sighed. “They say the good die young, and the wicked live forever. I thought since she dared to drive into the sea, she’d have some contingency plan.”

She hadn’t expected Xu Zhaozhao to truly intend to die together.

Jiang Ciyi had no sympathy for her enemy. If she hadn’t been lucky, today’s funeral might have included her.

So at most, she’d pretend not to know about it.

If someone asked her to attend Xu Zhaozhao’s funeral, she’d struggle not to desecrate the grave.

When Jiang Ciyi asked why Xu Zhaozhao did it, Cheng Xing said she didn’t know.

Jiang Ciyi recalled Xu Zhaozhao’s words before driving into the sea and looked at Cheng Xing. “Xingxing, this seems like your romantic debt.”

“No way,” Cheng Xing said. “I always kept my distance from her. Don’t you remember? At our place, I went to great lengths to get her out. Who knows why she insisted on hanging herself on a crooked tree and did something so irrational?”

Jiang Ciyi frowned, thinking. “In the car, Xu Zhaozhao didn’t seem normal. She was frantic, like she was possessed. When she drove into the sea, her eyes were unfocused. I don’t think she’d throw away her life over something like this. Halfway through, she kept turning the steering wheel, muttering something, but the sound of the water drowned it out, so I couldn’t hear.”

“From her lip movements, it seemed like she was saying she didn’t want to die, that it shouldn’t be like this. Or maybe she was high—drug addicts in a frenzy act like that. I think there should’ve been an autopsy.”

Cheng Xing had only suspected, but Jiang Ciyi’s words confirmed her thoughts.

When Xu Zhaozhao stayed at Tinglan Mansion for a few days, they saw each other morning, noon, and night. The rooms were cleaned by maids, so drug use seemed unlikely.

Her appearance didn’t suggest drug use either—though thin, she was rosy-cheeked and full of energy, always scheming.

But Jiang Ciyi was right; an autopsy should’ve been done.

“You weren’t awake,” Cheng Xing said. “I didn’t have the mind to deal with that. Her body’s already been cremated.”

Jiang Ciyi shrugged. “It’s fine. The dead are gone. She reaped what she sowed.”

The topic was too heavy, and with the oppressive rain outside, the mood in the room grew somber.

But it didn’t last long. Cheng Xing received a call from the old lady.

On the phone, the old lady interrogated her for not attending Xu Zhaozhao’s funeral, scolding her righteously. “If you hadn’t been so fickle, giving Zhaozhao false hope, would she have done this? Now that she’s dead, you won’t even attend her funeral. Is this the kind of disloyal, unrighteous person the Cheng family raised?”

Cheng Xing was stunned and didn’t want Jiang Ciyi to hear the old lady’s words and get upset. She stood to take the call outside.

But as she got up, Jiang Ciyi grabbed her wrist and gestured to her phone, signaling her to put it on speaker.

Cheng Xing shook her head, trying to stop her from inviting trouble, but Jiang Ciyi insisted. Helpless, Cheng Xing put it on speaker and calmly retorted, “Yes, I’m disloyal, unrighteous, mad, and foolish. Don’t provoke me.”

The old lady: “…”

There was a clear pause on the other end.

She probably hadn’t expected Cheng Xing to say that, but after a moment, she said, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll kick you out of the Cheng family?”

“Hey,” Cheng Xing laughed. “How? Grandmother, the Qing dynasty fell long ago.”

“Your days of absolute rule are long gone,” Cheng Xing continued. “If Xu Zhaozhao had taken her own life, I’d attend her funeral today. But she kidnapped my fragile, helpless wife and tried to take her down with her. Luckily, Ciyi has great fortune and survived. Otherwise, today’s funeral wouldn’t be just one. Why would I go to her funeral? To flip her coffin?”

Cheng Xing said the cruelest words in the calmest tone.

Jiang Ciyi, listening, found many of her own thoughts echoed.

She couldn’t help but give a thumbs-up. Cheng Xing instinctively grabbed her fingers, rubbing them as she spoke.

“Unfilial!” the old lady shouted. “I’ll give you half an hour. If you don’t show up at the funeral, you’ll bear the consequences.”

Cheng Xing was about to say “do as you please,” but Jiang Ciyi pressed her hand, speaking coldly, “If we show up at the funeral, will you bear the consequences?”

The old lady froze, then roared, “Who said she was unconscious? Isn’t she perfectly fine? Poor Zhaozhao…”

“Stop wailing,” Jiang Ciyi said. “If I go, you’d better stop crying.”

She hung up.

Cheng Xing was shocked. “You’re really going to the funeral?”

“With your grandmother’s temper, if you don’t go, she’ll come to the hospital. If she’s going to make a scene, why let her ruin the sanctity of a hospital?” Jiang Ciyi looked out at the pouring rain, speaking calmly.

It was destined to be an unpeaceful day.

“But you just woke up…” Cheng Xing worried about her condition.

“Aren’t you here, Xingxing?” Jiang Ciyi said. “You’ll protect me, right?”

“Of course, but…”

“No buts,” Jiang Ciyi said, gripping her hand. “The storm will pass.”

Cheng Xing was sometimes amazed by Jiang Ciyi’s composure and open-mindedness, but on second thought, these were qualities forged in an unhappy life.

The more broken the life, the more it sharpens one’s character.

Cheng Xing hadn’t understood before, but after these days of a “broken life,” she finally got it.

Before leaving the hospital, Cheng Xing consulted Jiang Ciyi’s surgeon. The doctor was shocked to hear she wanted to leave. “Her wounds haven’t healed. Why risk her coming back to the hospital?”

Jiang Ciyi interjected, “I’ve checked all my wounds. The incisions aren’t large, and they’ve healed somewhat. We’ll return promptly after handling things and won’t delay the nurses’ dressing changes.”

The surgeon was stunned, unsure what to say.

With a typical patient, she’d have scolded them, but these two were people she couldn’t afford to offend.

“Then you…” the doctor hesitated.

“If you’re worried, bring an emergency kit and come with us,” Cheng Xing said. “The Cheng family will cover the costs separately.”

“It’s not about money,” the doctor said.

“No need to be polite,” Cheng Xing said. “If we don’t go, someone will come to the hospital and make a scene. My wife doesn’t want her peaceful hospital stay disrupted.”

“What?” The doctor was confused.

Who could be so heartless as to harass a patient just pulled back from death’s door?

When they arrived at the venue, they saw a crowd gathered around the coffin, all poised and watching as Jiang Ciyi and Cheng Xing approached.

The funeral was held at a mansion the Cheng family had acquired years ago. Guan Linmin hadn’t expected many guests, but many came upon hearing the news.

Especially after the old lady returned to the country last night, she had notified many distant relatives to attend Xu Zhaozhao’s funeral.

The rain poured heavily. The doctor, in a white coat, stood to the side with an emergency kit.

Jiang Ciyi sat in a wheelchair, wearing a hospital gown with Cheng Xing’s white coat draped over her.

Cheng Xing, unusually dressed in a black suit and trousers, didn’t wear a white flower on her chest like the others.

Her distinct hands held a large black umbrella, shielding Jiang Ciyi completely.

Under everyone’s gaze, Cheng Xing pushed Jiang Ciyi along the path, rain streaming down the umbrella’s edges.

Under the eaves, Cheng Xing closed the umbrella and pushed Jiang Ciyi inside.

Before the old lady could speak, Jiang Ciyi said coldly, “Not setting this place on fire is already my respect for her.”

As her words fell, she flicked a pebble with a seemingly light toss.

The next moment, the glass frame of Xu Zhaozhao’s portrait in the center slowly cracked.

With a crash, it shattered into pieces.