Transmigrated As The Villainous Scumbag Wife Of A Disabled Tycoon - Chapter 73
73
Jiang Ciyi initially thought it was just her imagination.
Even though Cheng Xing had said it with utmost seriousness, she cautiously confirmed again, “Really?”
“I don’t think I saw it wrong,” Cheng Xing replied.
High-end hospital rooms like this one typically didn’t have surveillance cameras installed unless specifically requested by the patient or their family.
Even if cameras were installed, the footage would be periodically sent to a designated email and then deleted from storage.
Fearing something might happen to Jiang Ciyi in the room, Cheng Xing had arranged for surveillance to be installed the very first day Jiang Ciyi was admitted. All they needed to do was check the email to review the footage.
As Cheng Xing prepared to open her laptop to search for the video, Jiang Ciyi grabbed her arm. “No need. I believe you.”
Jiang Ciyi tried moving her leg again, channeling all her strength to her lower body, but…
It was futile.
Just like before.
For a fleeting moment, it felt like a shared illusion between the two of them.
Jiang Ciyi’s face flushed red from the effort. Sensing her urgency, Cheng Xing grabbed her wrist. “A’Ci, don’t rush.”
“I’m not,” Jiang Ciyi said coolly, her tone detached. “I just wanted to try.”
She sounded indifferent, but in truth, she was exerting every ounce of effort to prove there was still hope for her legs to recover.
The difference was that she was only frustrated with herself.
Cheng Xing placed three fingers on her pulse, detecting an obvious restlessness.
Looking into her eyes, Cheng Xing saw a fierce, unyielding ambition burning within.
“A’Ci,” Cheng Xing called softly, tightening her grip on Jiang Ciyi’s wrist, but it was as if Jiang Ciyi didn’t hear her.
With no other choice, Cheng Xing began applying acupuncture to her leg.
One hand remained on Jiang Ciyi’s wrist to monitor her pulse, while the other moved swiftly, inserting silver needles into her leg with precision, like raindrops falling.
Jiang Ciyi’s pale legs were soon dotted with silver needles, using up all of Cheng Xing’s supply.
There wasn’t a single spot left on her leg where a hand could rest, creating a fragile, almost broken beauty.
Just like Jiang Ciyi, who was now staring intently at her own legs.
Once the surge of defiance passed, only dejection and sorrow remained.
But her dejection and sorrow were concealed, hidden beneath her cool exterior.
Her eyes, cold as unmelting snow in the depths of winter, swept lightly over everything in the room, confirming she was grounded in reality. Her legs, however, had been judged by nearly every doctor, sentenced to never stand again.
To be honest, Jiang Ciyi had never initially believed that what Cheng Xing was doing could help her stand again.
It was likely that Cheng Xing was doing this to gain her favor or for some ulterior motive. Jiang Ciyi didn’t bother to ask or care, letting it happen as it would.
But she hadn’t expected this method to actually work!
The overwhelming joy had lifted her to the clouds, only to send her crashing back to the ground in an instant.
“It will get better,” Cheng Xing said softly, holding her hand. “The fact that your toes moved means your leg nerves aren’t completely dead. If you keep at it, there will be results.”
Jiang Ciyi took a deep breath, refusing to project her negative emotions onto others. “Mm, keep going.”
Claiming she was tired, she lay back down, closed her eyes, and forced herself not to dwell on it, refusing to sink into the despair brought by such a stark contrast.
As Cheng Xing removed the needles, she heard Jiang Ciyi’s soft, shallow breathing, tinged with sadness even in its rhythm.
Afterward, Cheng Xing pressed hard on several acupoints on Jiang Ciyi’s legs. On a healthy person, such pressure would have caused them to jump in pain, but Jiang Ciyi, fast asleep, didn’t stir. Her breathing remained steady, indicating she felt nothing.
Cheng Xing pulled her pant legs down, tucked her in, and brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. She dimmed the bedside lamp to its lowest setting.
In the quiet hospital room, Cheng Xing sat by Jiang Ciyi’s bedside for a while longer, unable to sleep.
This incident had been far too dangerous for Jiang Ciyi, but it could also be considered a blessing in disguise.
The doctor had previously discussed Jiang Ciyi’s condition with Cheng Xing, mentioning that her legs had a good chance of recovery.
Under the pressure of seawater, Jiang Ciyi’s intense will to survive had allowed her to manipulate her legs using the water’s force, though she might not even be aware of it.
Her leg nerves weren’t completely dead, but surgery was no longer viable. Recovery could only come through physical therapy and rehabilitation.
Cheng Xing hadn’t shared this with Jiang Ciyi, fearing it would push her to overexert herself or that a lack of immediate progress might crush her confidence. Instead, she chose to encourage her gradually.
Jiang Ciyi’s reaction tonight was exactly as Cheng Xing had expected.
Proud as she was, Jiang Ciyi couldn’t hide her joy upon learning she might stand again, nor could she conceal her disappointment afterward.
Worried she might have misseen, Cheng Xing pulled out her laptop to review the surveillance footage, zooming in on that specific moment.
But even with high-definition footage, it wasn’t captured by a professional stabilized camera. When zoomed in, the image became blurry.
It couldn’t definitively confirm Cheng Xing’s memory.
Still, regardless, this was a promising start.
For a patient, it could be a blow to their confidence in treatment, but for a doctor, there was no better beginning.
Cheng Xing reviewed the footage again, cross-referenced some information, and felt more confident. Only then did she rub her tired eyes and go to bed.
The next morning, Cheng Xing was awakened by glaring sunlight.
Perhaps because she’d been sleep-deprived when she first transmigrated, she’d been sleeping late and waking up late recently.
As she sat up on the narrow hospital cot, still groggy, she heard Fu Ling’s teasing voice. “Oh, my dear granddaughter’s awake.”
Cheng Xing opened her eyes to see Fu Ling sitting on the sofa opposite, with Guan Linmin beside her. Jiang Ciyi, seated in a wheelchair, was elegantly eating a peeled orange.
Cheng Xing glanced at her watch—it was almost eleven.
She didn’t think sleeping on the small cot was a big deal. Yawning, she folded the blanket and stood up, intending to tie her hair back. But when she glanced at her bed, she didn’t see her black hair tie.
From outside, Jiang Ciyi said lightly, “I put it in the drawer for you.”
“Got it.” Cheng Xing opened the drawer, grabbed the hair tie, and casually tied her hair into a low bun.
She used to prefer a low ponytail—comfortable and practical—but after getting used to seeing Jiang Ciyi’s effortlessly tied low bun, she’d grown fond of it too.
Though her bun was tighter and less aesthetically pleasing than Jiang Ciyi’s.
After some thought and a few tweaks, Cheng Xing concluded that Jiang Ciyi’s bun looked good not just because of the style, but because Jiang Ciyi herself was beautiful.
Walking over to them, Cheng Xing casually asked, “When did you all get here? You didn’t make a sound.”
As if nothing had happened.
Guan Linmin looked up at her, her gaze complex, as if she had much to say.
Fu Ling was more straightforward, laughing. “We’ve been here a while. We disturbed Jiangjiang’s peace but didn’t talk much, just sat here waiting for you to wake up.”
“Thanks for your effort,” Cheng Xing said, sitting down beside them. “You could’ve just woken me up.”
“No big deal,” Fu Ling said, glancing at her. “We just came to see Jiangjiang. Waking you up didn’t seem necessary. Besides, you’re like your mom—your morning temper is something else. I didn’t dare provoke you.”
The original Cheng Xing had a bad morning temper, and while the current Cheng Xing had a milder one, she didn’t deny it. She continued chatting with Fu Ling. “You came to see Jiangjiang and didn’t bring a gift? Just a visit?”
Fu Ling laughed helplessly. “Am I that kind of person? Of course I brought something. I already gave it to Jiangjiang.”
“What is it?” Cheng Xing, wanting to lighten the mood for Jiang Ciyi’s sake, turned to her. “A’Ci, you can’t keep it all to yourself. Share with everyone.”
“It’s mine,” Fu Ling said. “Don’t bully her.”
“Grandma,” Cheng Xing grumbled. “Is it wrong to just take a look? And didn’t you call her Jiangjiang before? Why the change?”
“I heard you call her A’Ci, so I followed suit,” Fu Ling said. “And you’re right—A’Ci sounds nicer.”
“Of course,” Cheng Xing said. “I came up with it, so only I get to call her that.” Realizing she sounded possessive, she coughed lightly and added, “Not that you can’t call her that.”
Her explanation took on a different meaning in Fu Ling’s ears, who smirked. “Got it, got it.”
Her gaze toward the two was teasingly ambiguous. “See if Jiangjiang’s willing to share with you.”
Before Cheng Xing could look at Jiang Ciyi, Jiang Ciyi said, “It’s from Grandma, and you were asleep, so you don’t get a share.”
Cheng Xing: “…”
“Sigh,” Cheng Xing said regretfully. “You should’ve woken me up.”
Guan Linmin seized the moment to speak. “It’s a jade bangle Grandma’s always worn. It looks beautiful on Jiangjiang’s wrist.”
Cheng Xing gently lifted Jiang Ciyi’s wrist, and in the sunlight, the bangle sparkled like a flowing lake. “It does look good on her.”
Jiang Ciyi pulled her wrist back. “Not giving it to you.”
“I’m not stealing it,” Cheng Xing said, glancing at Guan Linmin and noticing her dejected expression.
Since waking up, Cheng Xing had sensed guilt in Guan Linmin’s gaze. In truth, Guan Linmin hadn’t done anything wrong these past few days.
In this matter, Guan Linmin was the biggest victim.
Cheng Xing felt wronged too, but Guan Linmin had endured multiple emotional upheavals.
The death of Xu Zhao Zhao had dredged up old wounds, and she’d decided to separate from her husband of many years.
Now, she had to face her daughter’s coldness.
Cheng Xing didn’t resent Guan Linmin or feel angry, but she hadn’t found the right moment to resolve their issues. So, she raised her wrists playfully and said, “Mommy, don’t you think my wrists look a bit empty too?”
Guan Linmin nodded. “They do.”
“I saw a Cartier bracelet a while back,” Cheng Xing said. “Could that be my gift?”
Seeing the atmosphere between them soften, Jiang Ciyi added fuel to the fire. “It’s not a special occasion. Why should you get a gift?”
Guan Linmin, doting as ever, said, “I’ll buy it for you. Anything else you like? LU has some new runway pieces that suit you. I’ll get them all. And for Jiangjiang, I got some practical bags for work—she’ll need them for all her stuff.”
Cheng Xing nodded. “Sure, but nothing too flashy. I’m getting old, so I prefer simple, elegant styles.”
Fu Ling burst out laughing. “You’re getting old? What does that make me? Halfway in the grave?”
“No way,” Cheng Xing teased. “With your sharp tongue, no dirt’s getting in that mouth.”
Fu Ling, catching the reference to her argument with the Cheng family matriarch yesterday, laughed. “That old lady had my liver aching from anger.”
“She passed out from your scolding, and you’re the one with liver pain?” Cheng Xing said, casually placing her fingers on Fu Ling’s wrist to check her pulse. “Oh, your liver’s not doing great. Get less angry, stay up less, and most importantly—quit smoking.”
Fu Ling was surprised. “When did you learn this?”
“I was bored and watched some online videos.” Cheng Xing fibbed. “Been at it for a while. The online master said I’m pretty talented.”
Guan Linmin extended her wrist. “Check mine too?”
Cheng Xing: “.”
She’d expected mockery or at least skepticism, but Guan Linmin’s blind love for her daughter was evident. She looked at Cheng Xing earnestly, describing her symptoms. “I’ve been having insomnia and vivid dreams…”
Checking her pulse, Cheng Xing said, “You’re overthinking, and your stomach’s been off lately, hasn’t it?”
“Yeah, I had stomach issues all day the day before yesterday,” Guan Linmin said. “And a headache yesterday.”
“You should get a full check-up,” Cheng Xing said, frowning. “Especially your stomach.”
She had Guan Linmin stick out her tongue to check its coating, then said, “Go now.”
“What’s wrong?” Guan Linmin asked, worried. “Do I have something serious?”
Cheng Xing didn’t dare jump to conclusions. “We’ll know once the results are out. It’s probably fine.”
Fu Ling, nervous, said, “Listen to Xingxing.”
Guan Linmin kept staring at Cheng Xing.
Softening, Cheng Xing linked arms with her. “I’ll go with you.”
Even Jiang Ciyi went along.
While waiting for the results, Fu Ling said to Cheng Xing, “Your mom’s most worried that you won’t forgive her.”
“She didn’t do anything wrong.” Cheng Xing said. “I understand her, but I haven’t figured out how to talk to her about it.”
With so much going on, Cheng Xing’s mind felt split into countless pieces, pushing less urgent matters aside.
But now, it seemed nothing could wait.
Guan Linmin had looked healthy before, but the recent turmoil had taken a toll.
She’d become all too familiar with the hospital these past few days.
Her pulse wasn’t promising.
After chatting with Fu Ling for a bit, Fu Ling said she felt restless and wanted to step out, maybe check if the Cheng matriarch had woken up to pick a fight. “Can’t be the only one upset.”
Cheng Xing was floored but didn’t stop her.
“Know when to stop,” Cheng Xing called after her. “Don’t get your liver hurting again. And no smoking.”
Fu Ling left with a carefree wave, disappearing around the corner.
Only Cheng Xing and Jiang Ciyi remained, waiting for the results.
Being a high-end private hospital, the process was seamless—no running between departments; everything was handled in one place.
During the wait, Cheng Xing checked Jiang Ciyi’s leg, giving it a gentle pinch. Jiang Ciyi turned to look at her but showed no reaction.
“No need to try,” Jiang Ciyi said. “I don’t feel anything.”
“What if?” Cheng Xing said. “Every journey starts with a single step.”
Jiang Ciyi: “The middle’s hard, and the end’s even harder.”
Cheng Xing: “.”
“You can’t just not start because it’s hard.” Cheng Xing said.
Jiang Ciyi: “It’s because I know it’s hard that I don’t start.”
Debating with Jiang Ciyi could turn into a philosophical quagmire in seconds.
Cheng Xing steered away, saying, “You know why I asked Mommy for a gift earlier?”
“What?” Jiang Ciyi finally followed her lead.
“Because I woke up again,” Cheng Xing said. “I lived another day. Isn’t that worth celebrating?”
“By that logic, every day’s worth celebrating since you wake up every day.”
“Maybe one day I won’t.”
“Then you won’t need to wake up anymore.”
“You’re missing my point.”
Jiang Ciyi: “You’re missing mine.”
Their back-and-forth was relentless, a stark contrast to their bedtime chats, almost crackling with tension.
But they tacitly stopped short of going too far.
Cheng Xing laughed. “I’m just saying being alive is worth celebrating. You think living is just living, no need to celebrate.”
Jiang Ciyi stayed silent.
“Don’t be so pessimistic, A’Ci.” Cheng Xing said.
She was comforting Jiang Ciyi, and herself too.
At the same time, she hoped Guan Linmin’s check-up would show nothing serious.
The results came quickly. Guan Linmin had a small tumor in her stomach, caught early. A minor surgery would take care of it.
Not a big deal.
Still, the entire Cheng family showed up.
Cheng Zimo and Cheng Zijing wore grim expressions, one more serious than the other. Cheng Xing tried to lighten the mood in Guan Linmin’s room to keep her from feeling anxious, but neither brother played along.
Finally, annoyed, Cheng Xing snapped, “What’s with you two? Everyone goes through stuff like this. It’s not a big deal, but your long faces are scaring me.”
Guan Linmin chimed in, “Exactly. If you keep this up, get out.”
And so… Cheng Zimo left first, followed by Cheng Zijing.
Cheng Xing: “.”
Great.
Left alone with Guan Linmin, Cheng Xing comforted her appropriately, explaining the surgery’s low risks and preoperative precautions.
But Guan Linmin seemed distracted. When Cheng Xing finished, she grabbed her hand and apologized, her voice trembling with unshed tears.
Helpless, Cheng Xing explained, “Mommy, I’ve never blamed you from start to finish. You don’t need to blame yourself either. But now, your overthinking has caused health issues. Should I blame myself too? If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be sick…”
“It’s not your fault,” Guan Linmin said. “How could it be?”
She shook her head. “I’ve had a smooth life with few setbacks. I never thought someone could pull something like this right under my nose.”
“You don’t need to blame Dad for my sake,” Cheng Xing said. “Make your own decisions about your marriage. I’m grown, with my own life. I put myself in your shoes—if I had to choose between my daughter and my wife, I’d choose my wife.”
“Really?” Guan Linmin asked.
“Of course,” Cheng Xing said. “If I were the wife, I’d hope she’d choose me too.”
Guan Linmin shook her head. “I still can’t let this go. He lied to me for so many years.”
“Then think it over,” Cheng Xing said helplessly. “I can’t decide for you, and I’m not pleading for Dad either. He’s not innocent—people have to pay for what they’ve done.”
Guan Linmin’s thoughts wandered, her face etched with sorrow.
As Cheng Xing racked her brain for how to comfort her, Cheng Kunshan knocked and entered, looking pained and guilty. “I heard about your condition…”
“I’ll leave you two to talk.” Cheng Xing said, heading out. Before leaving, she added, “Don’t say anything to upset Mommy.”
Outside, she found Cheng Zimo and Cheng Zijing standing in the hallway, both in black suits, wearing million-dollar watches, and—synchronized—smoking.
…
This scene fried Cheng Xing’s brain.
First, no smoking in hospital corridors.
Second, domineering CEOs in real life.
Third, their synchronized actions were ridiculously pretentious.
But also undeniably cool.
Cheng Xing walked over and patted their shoulders. “Can you have some civic decency? This is a hospital, brothers.”
She usually called them “brothers” as a casual honorific, but these were her real brothers.
They were sensible enough, extinguishing their cigarettes in unison when they saw her and waving away the smoke.
“What’s with you two?” Cheng Xing said. “Mom’s condition isn’t a big deal. She’ll be fine in a few days.”
“No,” Cheng Zijing said. “He’s reflecting, and I’m thinking.”
Cheng Xing: “…What’s the difference?”
“He’s reflecting on why he didn’t get a DNA test sooner and got played like a fool. I’m thinking about how to get all of Grandmother’s shares and send her abroad without a trace, never to return.” Cheng Zijing said candidly.
Cheng Xing: “?”
“Figured it out yet?” she asked.
Cheng Zijing shook his head. “Not yet.”
“I’ll handle it,” Cheng Zimo said. “Some things you don’t need to get involved in.”
“What, the Cheng Group isn’t giving me a share?” Cheng Zijing teased. “Don’t forget, Grandmother likes me best.”
“Then take the shares from her,” Cheng Zimo said, raising an eyebrow.
Cheng Zijing shrugged. “Wouldn’t that mean getting married this year?”
“Mom mentioned a match for you last week,” Cheng Zimo said. “The Lu family’s second daughter, studied abroad, good-looking, and most importantly, the Lu family has ties to the Gu family. You could leverage that to secure the overseas project. Grandmother would willingly give you the shares.”
“Why not the eldest or youngest Lu daughter?” Cheng Zijing countered.
“The eldest is overseas long-term and has some unclear ties with the Gu family’s current GM. The youngest has a congenital heart condition,” Cheng Zimo said, giving him a look. “Well? A marriage for all that—you’d come out ahead.”
Cheng Zijing thought it over, then scoffed. “Selling myself for glory? Not my style.”
“Bullshit,” Cheng Zimo shot back. “If it weren’t for Wang Tingwan, you’d have jumped at it.”
“Don’t call me out, big brother. We’re still family,” Cheng Zijing said with a smile. “If Xingxing weren’t married, maybe I’d have a shot.”
“What, you can’t sell yourself, but I can?” Cheng Xing smacked him. “If A’Ci hears that, she’ll cut ties with you.”
“No way. Tingwan would fly back overnight to kill me.”
Cheng Xing froze, not immediately processing his words. When she did, she heard Cheng Zimo scoff, “Hopeless romantic.”
Only then did Cheng Xing feel a pang of sorrow.
The original Cheng Xing carried not only the burden of Jiang Ciyi’s accident but also Wang Tingwan’s murder.
“Second Brother,” Cheng Xing called seriously. Cheng Zijing turned, his playful peach-blossom eyes meeting hers, but she saw deep, unspoken grief within them.
Before she could empathize, a surge of anger rose in her chest, just like before.
It was as if something was fighting for control of her body. Before she could react, words burst out: “If I and Second Sister-in-Law fell into the sea, who would you save first?”
Cheng Xing: “?”
That wasn’t her.
It was the original Cheng Xing.
Cheng Zijing froze, then smiled. “Silly girl, your Second Sister-in-Law can’t fall into the sea anymore.”
Cheng Zimo was about to say something when his phone rang.
The call was brief. He asked, “Just now?”
Then hung up.
Two seconds later, he broke the heavy silence. “Two minutes ago, Grandmother passed away.”