Transmigrated As The Villainous Scumbag Wife Of A Disabled Tycoon - Chapter 7
7
Upon hearing this, Zheng Shuqing’s expression immediately darkened. She saw Jiang Ciyi looking back at her calmly, her light brown pupils almost ethereal under the backlight, giving her a bewitching allure. Yet her expression remained cold and detached, as if nothing in this world could truly capture her attention.
And that glance was filled with disdain.
Cheng Xing was shocked that a woman in her twenties could have such an indifferent gaze, but she also felt a pang of sympathy for Jiang Ciyi’s circumstances.
If it hadn’t been for meeting the original host, she might have lived a happy life, right?
Instead of being confined to a wheelchair, looking as if she were on the brink of death, her eyes as lifeless as a dry well, devoid of ripples or emotion.
Cheng Xing felt a twinge of regret. Influenced by her family elders, she understood how rare it was for a genius to emerge, especially in a field like medicine. Though she studied traditional Chinese medicine and Jiang Ciyi was a forensic pathologist, they shared a common thread.
Cheng Xing’s gaze softened as she looked at her, but Jiang Ciyi let out a low chuckle. “When did we ever agree?”
The laugh lasted only two seconds before Jiang Ciyi frowned, her eyes flashing with disgust. “Don’t look at me like that, Cheng Xing.”
She continued, “The decision not to divorce is just your wishful thinking.”
“But last night…” Cheng Xing recalled the embrace from the previous evening, only for Jiang Ciyi to cut her off without hesitation. “That was just to provoke your sister. I’ve already set a time for the divorce proceedings—tomorrow at 9 a.m. Don’t be late.”
Cheng Xing: “…”
Jiang Ciyi patted the back of Zheng Shuqing’s hand, signaling for them to move forward.
They had come downstairs to bask in the sun, and running into Cheng Xing was merely a coincidence.
Just as they were about to pass by Cheng Xing, she spoke up. “If you don’t divorce me, I can heal your legs.”
Even if they did divorce, Cheng Xing would still try her best. After all, in the original story, Jiang Ciyi’s legs eventually healed after reuniting with her childhood friend.
So why couldn’t she try?
Her grandfather had said she was the most gifted student he’d ever seen.
But now, to prevent Jiang Ciyi from divorcing her, she was using this as a bargaining chip.
Zheng Shuqing stopped abruptly. “What nonsense are you spouting? You fed her these empty promises before the marriage, and look what happened! You’ve only been married a few days!”
“You? Heal?” Jiang Ciyi zeroed in on the key point of her words, her lips moving silently as she repeated those two words to herself.
“Yeah, have you even studied medicine?” Zheng Shuqing scoffed. “Don’t make ridiculous claims.”
Cheng Xing, realizing her recent slip-ups, coughed lightly. “Of course not me. I have a friend who’s very skilled. If you don’t divorce me, I’ll take you to her to treat your legs.”
“Didn’t you already bring in a renowned orthopedic specialist from abroad?” Zheng Shuqing sneered. “Even he said there was no hope. Don’t try to stall for time. This marriage is definitely getting dissolved—”
Before she could finish, a cheerful voice interrupted. “Cheng Xing, there you are!”
The voice was so pleasant that everyone turned to look. A girl with a doll-like face approached, her smile bright. “I just went to your hospital room, but you weren’t there. So you’re hiding out here. Are you scared?”
Scared?
Cheng Xing frowned, not recognizing the girl or understanding what she meant, so she stayed quiet and listened.
The girl walked over, noticed Jiang Ciyi, and paused. She crouched down, propped her hands on her knees, and looked at Jiang Ciyi, speaking in perfect Cantonese. “You must be Jiang Ciyi, right? As expected of Hong Kong University’s campus belle. I really like you.”
Cheng Xing spoke up. “You’re here for me, so why are you bothering my wife?”
The girl glanced at her with a raised brow. “I came for you, but have you forgotten? We made a bet involving your wife.”
Cheng Xing: “…”
Just how many messes did the original host leave behind?
At the mention of a “bet,” Zheng Shuqing exploded, heedless of the public setting. “Cheng Xing, are you even human? You’re such a degenerate gambler! Treating Jiang Ciyi like your possession? Using her as a betting stake, you animal!”
Cheng Xing: “…”
Great. Now the entire hospital knew Cheng Xing was an animal.
Cheng Xing wanted to cry but had no tears. She composed herself and said, “I got sick a couple of days ago and don’t remember some things clearly.”
“Doesn’t matter if you don’t remember,” the girl said, standing up and playfully tilting Jiang Ciyi’s chin. Jiang Ciyi frowned and glared at her, but the girl laughed. “This woman is mine now.”
“No way.” Cheng Xing firmly refused.
“Yesterday at 7 p.m., Wangqing Hill. You didn’t show up, so you lost,” the girl said.
Cheng Xing frowned. “What were we competing in?”
“Car racing,” the girl replied, pausing. “Don’t tell me you actually lost your memory? You Jianggang people are so boring, resorting to such tricks when you lose.”
Jianggang people?
So she wasn’t from Jianggang.
A doll-like face, a commanding presence, eyes curving into crescents when she smiled…
This had to be Xu Jingcheng, the thrill-seeking heiress from the Beijing elite, often called CC.
In the original story, she became friends with Jiang Ciyi after the latter returned to her wealthy family.
But… why was she here now?
Had the original story’s timeline already gone off track?
As Cheng Xing pondered, Xu Jingcheng grew impatient. “Forget it. I’m taking this pretty lady with me. I could use a playmate.”
“Wait.” Cheng Xing stepped forward, positioning herself in front of Jiang Ciyi. “I didn’t show up for yesterday’s race, so it doesn’t count.”
“What do you want?” Xu Jingcheng asked. “I had a whole crowd waiting for you yesterday, and you stood me up. Do you think I, Xu Jingcheng, am someone you can mess with? I’ll have to take it out on your wife to feel better.”
“I was injured—it was a special circumstance,” Cheng Xing said. “I’ll apologize for it later. But you can’t take my wife.”
“Then what do you propose?”
Cheng Xing paused. “Either we race again, or we cancel the bet. I’m willing to apologize publicly in front of everyone who was there yesterday.”
Since she was stuck in the original host’s body, she had to deal with this mess head-on.
“Fine. Tonight at 7 p.m., Wangqing Hill. Don’t stand me up again~” Xu Jingcheng waved at Jiang Ciyi. “Pretty lady, wait for me to take you to Beijing.”
“Wait,” Cheng Xing called out. “Using someone else as a bet doesn’t seem right, does it?”
“But that’s what you agreed to,” Xu Jingcheng shrugged. “I even tried to talk you out of it, but you said she was just your toy, so she was perfect for the bet…”
“Stop!” Cheng Xing interrupted, seeing Zheng Shuqing’s murderous expression. She feared any more words would land her back in the ICU. “I’m changing the bet.”
Xu Jingcheng asked, “To what?”
“What do you want?” Cheng Xing countered.
“What I want, you can’t afford,” Xu Jingcheng said haughtily.
As the pampered daughter of Beijing’s Xu family, she always got her way. Visiting Jianggang for a few days, she’d encountered Cheng Xing’s reckless behavior and wanted to teach her a lesson.
What could the Jianggang Cheng family have that the Beijing Xu family didn’t?
Probably nothing.
Xu Jingcheng wasn’t lying, and Cheng Xing knew it. But since the original host had created this mess, she had to take responsibility. “Then I’ll change the bet to myself.”
Calmly, she said, “My bet should be about me.”
“But what would I do with you, Cheng Xing?” Xu Jingcheng pouted. “You’re notorious for your wild lifestyle in Jianggang, and your reputation’s a mess. If I took you home, my family would probably kick me out.”
Cheng Xing paused. “Bet on a promise from me.”
Xu Jingcheng tilted her head, intrigued. “Tell me more.”
“No matter when or where, if Miss Xu has a request, send me a message. As long as it’s legal, I’ll do my utmost to make it happen.”
In the original novel, Xu Jingcheng became friends with Jiang Ciyi because the latter saved Xu’s beloved, who had a serious illness, after countless doctors failed. Perhaps Cheng Xing could take on that role.
She also needed Xu Jingcheng as an ally.
Xu Jingcheng glanced at Jiang Ciyi in her wheelchair, then thought for a moment. “Compared to this pretty lady, that bet seems a bit light.”
“Of course.” Cheng Xing said. “Anything compared to my wife is too light. But I’ll offer to fulfill three requests for Miss Xu.”
Xu Jingcheng studied her for a moment. “Deal. We’ll swap bets evenly.”
Cheng Xing smiled. “Thank you, Miss Xu.”
“Cheng Xing, you’re much more likable than before.” Xu Jingcheng said, flashing a bright smile with her white teeth. “Did your illness give you a personality makeover?”
Cheng Xing: “…”
“Just kidding.” Xu Jingcheng snapped her fingers. “Remember, 7 p.m. tonight, Wangqing Hill. Don’t be late.”
After Xu Jingcheng left, Cheng Xing looked around, seeing only passersby.
She sighed to herself—they were all NPCs like her.
Jiang Ciyi and Zheng Shuqing had already left, probably back to the hospital room.
Cheng Xing let out a breath of relief. Her phone vibrated with a new message.
[Spring: Xing’er, are you okay? I heard Xu Jingcheng came looking for you.]
The contact’s name was unique, but there was no chat history. If the sender hadn’t messaged first, Cheng Xing might not have noticed her among the original host’s hundreds of contacts.
At first, she thought “Spring” was the sender’s username, but checking the profile, she saw it was a nickname set by the original host. The sender’s avatar was a green background filled with vibrant, colorful flowers, and her username was “Summer” followed by a star emoji.
Her Moments showed her IP location at a university in Paris, with photos of beautiful scenery and a caption: Autumn is never as lovely as spring, but the nights are the same—filled with breeze and stars.
It was poetic, but it seemed to hint at something deeper.
Cheng Xing realized who this was and replied: [I’m fine.]
The status showed “typing” for a long time before a response came: [Xing’er, are you still mad at me?]
Cheng Xing replied: [No.]
She changed the contact’s name to Su Manchun.
Wasn’t this the woman everyone said the original host obeyed unquestioningly when Cheng Xing first transmigrated?
The novel didn’t delve much into Su Manchun and Cheng Xing’s past, only mentioning they’d known each other since childhood. Su Manchun, somewhat clumsy and overshadowed by her sister Su Lengyue, was unwilling to marry the notorious playgirl Cheng Xing and seized the chance to study abroad.
Then Cheng Xing saw Jiang Ciyi on the street, and the story began.
During Cheng Xing and Jiang Ciyi’s marriage, Su Manchun never returned to the country or appeared in the story.
So, Cheng Xing had no idea what kind of person she was.
But… the original host’s love life was so complicated!
And all her romantic entanglements were disasters.
Cheng Xing rubbed her forehead in frustration, sent a few curt replies to Su Manchun, and stopped responding.
When she’d rested enough, the midday sun grew harsh, its heat scorching her skin. Cheng Xing got up and returned to the hospital room.
When she arrived, Zheng Shuqing was gone. Jiang Ciyi’s silver wheelchair sat quietly by her bed, and she lay flat on her back.
Her posture was almost corpse-like, hands resting flat at her sides, completely still.
Thinking she was asleep, Cheng Xing gently closed the door and tiptoed to the bedside. Before she could sit down, Jiang Ciyi’s eyes snapped open, a cold glint flashing in them.
Cheng Xing jumped, clutching her chest. “How are you so quiet?”
“That’s my line.” Jiang Ciyi said, her voice as cold as ever. “Sneaking in like that—what were you planning?”
Cheng Xing said, “Just coming back to rest.”
“So what sound am I supposed to make while resting?” Jiang Ciyi retorted. “I thought you were going to trade me for something while I was asleep.”
Cheng Xing: “…”
She was clearly settling scores over the earlier incident.
“I really don’t remember some things clearly.” Cheng Xing said. “But I’ll change. Didn’t I already swap the bet with her?”
“Cheng Xing,” Jiang Ciyi suddenly said, “you say you can heal, but can you race?”
Her tone was casual, like asking if she’d eaten, but it set off alarm bells in Cheng Xing’s mind. “Of course I can.”
“But who said I can heal?” Cheng Xing clarified. “Like I said, I have a friend who’s skilled in Chinese medicine. I can take you to her. If Western medicine says your bones can’t be fixed, we’ll try Chinese medicine to reconnect your meridians. With slow recovery, it’ll get better.”
In the original novel, Jiang Ciyi’s legs were healed through Chinese medicine, so Cheng Xing was confident.
After all, she’d inherited the expertise of two Chinese medicine families and had a natural talent for acupuncture. She could do this.
Jiang Ciyi let out an “oh,” her expression neutral. After a pause, she asked, “Was this friend at our wedding? How much did she give as a gift?”
Cheng Xing lay on her bed, her mind preoccupied with the evening’s race and bet. Turning to her side, she saw Jiang Ciyi’s profile—porcelain skin, a high nose bridge, a faint red tint at the corner of her eyes, not from makeup but perhaps a trick of the light.
Yet Jiang Ciyi didn’t even glance at her.
Cheng Xing hadn’t slept well the previous night. Now, half-closing her eyes, she said softly, “You don’t need to test me. I’m Cheng Xing.”
“I had a dream a couple of nights ago. I was in a fairyland, and I met a Bodhisattva. She said I’d done too many bad things and wanted to kill me. I was so scared that when I woke up, I realized I couldn’t keep living like this. My life’s already so good—I should be a better person.”
Cheng Xing spun the story she’d been concocting all morning.
Jiang Ciyi’s breathing paused for a moment. After a while, she said, “Cheng Xing, are you good at reconnecting meridians?”
“Of course—” Cheng Xing, drowsy, caught herself mid-sentence and corrected, “Not at all.”
“I don’t know how. Like I said, it’s my friend,” Cheng Xing mumbled, waving her hand lazily as if swatting the air. “I’m so sleepy, Jiang Ciyi. Gonna nap.”
Her breathing soon became slow and steady.
Jiang Ciyi waited a moment before turning to stare at her.
There were too many inconsistencies.
She couldn’t help but probe.
After a while, Jiang Ciyi pulled her phone from under her pillow and opened WeChat, finding Xu Congshi’s contact.
[Senior, are you busy? Can you help me with something?]
[I want to investigate someone.]