Transmigrated As The Villainous Scumbag Wife Of A Disabled Tycoon - Chapter 77
77
The weather in Jianggang’s winter was unpredictable, shifting between clear and cloudy. When Lu Qi’s car pulled into the courtyard of the Lu family villa, rain began to fall.
The Filipina maid stood in the rain, her black leather shoes splashed with water, yet she dutifully held an umbrella, waiting for Lu Qi to step out of the car.
Lu Qi was still using her phone to check the marks on her face.
When the car door opened, a cold gust of wind rushed in. Wearing only a thin dress, Lu Qi’s hand trembled slightly as she shot a sidelong glance at the maid.
The maid immediately bowed and apologized, “I’m sorry, Second Miss.”
Lu Qi put away her phone, brushed her hair further over the left side of her face, grabbed the cashmere coat beside her, and got out of the car.
She had assumed no one would be home at this hour, but as soon as she stepped inside, a gentle voice called out, “Qiqi, you’re back.”
Lu Qi, who had been about to slip upstairs, froze and stood up straight. She quickly adjusted her expression, turned around, and greeted the woman, “Mommy, weren’t you supposed to visit Grandma today? Why are you back so early?”
Lu Yuan patted her hand. “Grandma wasn’t feeling well today and shooed me back home. Did your book club end this early?”
Lu Qi had told the maid earlier not to prepare dinner for her.
Yet here she was, back before dark.
“Not many people showed up,” Lu Qi said with a practiced smile. “It’s nothing like the ones abroad. We just chatted briefly and wrapped up.”
“Next time, find a better one,” Lu Yuan suggested. “I got word from the stables that a new batch of foals has arrived. When you have time, we can go take a look. Didn’t you always want to adopt a pony?”
Lu Qi hadn’t expected Lu Yuan to remember her offhand comment from before.
But then, Lu Yuan was always like this.
Lu Qi didn’t refuse, but her immediate priority was to get upstairs and deal with the marks on her face. “Sounds good, Mommy. Let me get over my jet lag first. I’m still adjusting, and the book club left me dizzy and exhausted.”
“Go rest upstairs,” Lu Yuan said, concerned. “I’ll have Aunt Wang bring dinner to your room when it’s ready.”
“Okay, thanks, Mommy.” Lu Qi flashed a sweet, gentle smile.
But as she took a step, Lu Yuan grabbed her arm, her expression tense. “What happened to your face, Qiqi…?”
Lu Yuan had noticed the slap mark on her left cheek.
When Cheng Xing had struck her, she’d used full force. Lu Qi’s head had snapped to the side, her ears ringing, her face burning with pain. She’d instinctively touched her nose and ears, fearing they were bleeding.
They weren’t. It was just pure pain.
She’d tried to fight back, but Cheng Xing had pinned both her arms.
Like in high school, Lu Qi called for her friends to step in, but Cheng Xing only said coolly, “Liu Ning, you’d better think about the consequences if you make a move.”
After a moment’s thought, Liu Ning not only held back but also restrained the other three—Pink, Green, and Yellow—from acting.
Who would dare?
This drama might have been a fair fight between Cheng Xing and Lu Qi.
But against anyone else, the Cheng family’s power was an absolute crushing force.
And those three phone calls Cheng Xing had made weren’t for nothing. Each one wasn’t just a slap to Lu Qi’s face but a blatant warning to everyone: Don’t mess with me. I have the entire Cheng family behind me.
For the first time in her life, Lu Qi had taken a crisp slap without being able to fight back.
The humiliation was suffocating.
Especially since she couldn’t let Lu Yuan see it.
If Lu Yuan found out, she might be “exiled” abroad again for years.
Worse, Lu Yuan would nag her endlessly…
“Qiqi, who did you run into at the book club? Was it someone who bullied you before?” Lu Yuan frowned. “Ever since you were young, you’ve…”
“I’m fine,” Lu Qi said, pulling free from her grasp. “I just tripped and fell.”
With that flimsy lie, she bolted upstairs, her footsteps echoing.
The next moment, Lu Yuan’s voice rang out sharply, “Lu Li! You snuck out again! Be careful, or your sister will break your legs!”
Her tone was stern but laced with gentle indulgence.
Lu Qi paused at the top of the stairs, leaning against the cold wall. Then she turned, pressing her still-stinging face against the wall to ease the pain.
“Mommy, don’t tell Big Sis, please~” a sweet-voiced girl wheedled, rubbing her hands together. Her expensive lavender coat was streaked with dirt, as if proclaiming to the world that this sweet girl had just been on an adventure. Pouting, she continued, “If Big Sis finds out, I won’t get dinner tonight. Do you really want your adorable little daughter to go hungry?”
She even let out a few fake whimpers.
It was obviously an act.
“I can live with that.” Lu Yuan said, poking her forehead. “What did the doctor tell you? No running around. Did you go to the river again?”
“What river?” Lu Li grumbled. “It was just an artificial pond. Chen Ke and I went there, and it was full of turtles. We thought we’d catch one to take a closer look, but it was slipperier than an eel and splashed mud all over me.”
Lu Yuan’s eyes narrowed, exuding a dangerous aura.
“Alright, no dinner for you tonight,” she declared.
Lu Li: “?”
“Wait, isn’t Second Sis back early? I’m going upstairs to hang out with her!” Lu Li tried to change the subject, but Lu Yuan grabbed her by the collar. “Lu Li!”
Lu Li: “.”
“Mom, I’m sorry!”
“Mom, don’t spank me!”
“Mommy~~~ I’m too old for this!”
The sounds of Lu Yuan and Lu Li’s banter filled the downstairs.
It wasn’t until footsteps echoed on the stairs that Lu Qi, as if waking from a dream, pulled her burning cheek away from the cold wall.
Her lips curled into a blank, eerie smile.
Then, before the other person reached the top, she slipped into her room.
That was what normal mother-daughter interactions looked like.
Lu Qi sat in front of her mirror, thinking.
She had a fairly pretty face, especially after years of enhancements abroad, bolstered by wealth and resources. She’d made minor tweaks to her appearance and taken countless aristocratic courses.
Her English had been terrible, but abroad, she’d had an impressive one-on-one tutor with a stellar resume.
But none of it was what she wanted.
Today, she’d seen Jiang Ciyi again, still as stunning as ever.
She’d been that way since high school—always the first person people noticed in a crowd. Even Lu Yuan, seeing her at a parent-teacher conference, had said, “What a charming girl.”
Lu Yuan’s way of praising people was to call them “charming.”
Because Lu Qi had been “charming” as a child, she’d earned the chance to eat and study at the Lu family, to take on the name Lu Qi.
But later, she realized some people could effortlessly seize those same opportunities.
Lu Qi brushed her hair aside, revealing the slap mark, now darker, with patches of bruising.
She’d probably need a week before she could go out again.
Clutching a sponge, she squeezed it until it deformed.
Five minutes later, she calmed down and tapped her phone to send a message: [Good news and bad news. Which do you want first?]
In London, it wasn’t yet dawn.
But the reply came quickly: [What do you mean?]
Lu Qi: [Good news: Cheng Xing is alive. Your prophetic dream didn’t come true.]
A pause from the other side: [And the bad news?]
Lu Qi: [Your lapdog has become someone else’s lapdog.]
Lu Qi’s words were never kind, but they were always honest.
Especially when it was just the two of them.
Abroad, they’d formed a certain unspoken connection.
When Su Manchun didn’t reply, Lu Qi smirked coldly and sent: [Disappointed, Miss Su?]
This time, Su Manchun responded: [How normal.]
Lu Qi sent a voice message, her tone teasing: “So when are you coming back to the country, my darling?”
She said “darling” with a hint of mockery.
In truth, they only used such terms when they hooked up abroad.
They’d agreed to act like strangers once back in China.
In a foreign land with few familiar faces, a single glance and a glass of wine at a party could ignite the deepest desires.
They were each other’s tools for relieving homesickness.
Though Lu Qi didn’t have much to be homesick about.
She’d gone along with it because Su Manchun suited her tastes.
And Su Manchun’s lapdog had married one of the people Lu Qi hated most in her life.
In a twisted way, it meant that abroad, Lu Qi had slept with the person her worst enemy’s wife most wanted.
A perverse thrill only she could appreciate.
But every time she did this with Su Manchun, Lu Qi would think about it.
Sure enough, once back in China, Su Manchun shut her down: [Don’t use that nickname.]
Lu Qi: [Heh.]
Su Manchun: [Soon, probably.]
She was answering Lu Qi’s earlier question.
One thing Lu Qi still liked about Su Manchun was her eccentric, almost mystical demeanor, especially lately.
Lu Qi had been doing fine abroad, free as a bird.
But Su Manchun claimed she’d had a prophetic dream about seismic changes in China: the Cheng family collapsing overnight, and Jiang Shan, a fellow exchange student, being the mysterious youngest daughter of Jianggang’s most enigmatic family.
A true child of privilege.
Far superior to daughters like them, who were sidelined and powerless in their own families.
Su Manchun knew Lu Qi harbored deep resentment. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been causing trouble since high school, ranting about the Lu family’s wrongs when drunk.
So Su Manchun dangled a carrot in front of her.
More accurately, she painted a big, tempting picture.
They were just coasting abroad, wasting time. If they didn’t return to China soon, they’d be forgotten. Why not go back, make something of themselves, and prove the naysayers wrong?
Lu Qi wasn’t particularly interested in the picture.
But she went along with it.
Because Su Manchun’s quirky, mystical vibe… was amusing.
So Lu Qi returned to China first, tasked with verifying Su Manchun’s “prophetic dream.”
Su Manchun had said that in her dream, Cheng Xing relentlessly tormented Jiang Ciyi after their marriage. But Jiang Ciyi rose to become a wealthy heiress, married into the powerful Shen family, and brought down the Chengs.
Su Manchun had been so certain, but Lu Qi didn’t buy it.
Still, she loved Su Manchun’s neurotic insistence when questioned—“You don’t believe me?”
Lu Qi was drawn to that kind of madness.
But Cheng Xing was still alive.
Su Manchun’s dream hadn’t come true.
So Lu Qi asked: [So, how’s it going with Jiang Shan? Slept with her yet?]
Su Manchun: […Can you not be so crude?]
Lu Qi: [What’s a better way to build a connection than sleeping together?]
Su Manchun: […Get lost.]
London, 6:00 AM
A thick fog blanketed the streets, and the TV broadcasted a weather alert: visibility was down to 200 meters.
Su Manchun had grown accustomed to London’s winter mornings.
She put down her phone, got up, and toasted two slices of bread. When the toaster dinged, she sipped cold milk and gazed out the window.
She couldn’t see a thing.
To ensure she had a good life here, Su Lengyue had rented her a nice apartment, paid for not with Su family money but with Lengyue’s own salary.
But Su Manchun knew she and Su Lengyue were different.
She exhaled softly, her breath fogging the glass. In the mist, she wrote a single word: Return.
She hadn’t had a prophetic dream. That was a lie to Lu Qi.
In truth, she had returned to her twenty-fifth year.
Before, she’d given up on Cheng Xing to chase her dreams abroad, thinking Cheng Xing would wait for her.
She hadn’t expected Cheng Xing to marry someone else so quickly.
Su Manchun had convinced herself she’d chosen the right path.
She gritted her teeth through her courses, earning a degree from an art academy.
To cope, she numbed herself. When drunk, she’d hook up with Lu Qi, finding temporary relief.
But after graduating and returning to China, she found no place for her in the Su family’s company.
She became an ordinary office worker at a design firm, working 9-to-9 for a meager salary, unable to afford even a decent winter coat.
She hadn’t become the dazzling person she’d envisioned.
Meanwhile, Cheng Xing, once a shining star, had faded into obscurity, the Cheng family a mere footnote in Jianggang’s history.
Now, the Gu and Shen families dominated Jianggang’s elite circles, with Jiang Ciyi and Shen Qingxue constantly dominating headlines.
The couple was like celebrities, always trending.
People tried to dig into Jiang Ciyi’s past, but no one could find anything.
The Gu family had sealed off all information.
In an age of information cocoons, the wealthy could control narratives in ways unimaginable to ordinary people.
One day, Su Manchun got a call from the bank. A “Miss Cheng” had left her money.
At that point, she’d fallen out with Su Lengyue and the Su family over her unauthorized return to China. They’d cut her off.
Her salary couldn’t sustain her lifestyle.
Desperate and broke, she went to the bank. The manager told her Cheng Xing had left her two billion yuan.
Cheng Xing had also left a letter.
That day, Su Manchun had planned to have a drink and return to her empty apartment to sleep. But suddenly, she was rich.
It was enough money to squander for a long time.
A legacy from someone she’d deliberately tried to forget.
It was a legacy because Cheng Xing had been dead for a long time.
Su Manchun never saw her again, not even catching a final glimpse. Even when she ran into Cheng Zijing or Cheng Zimo at events, they refused to speak of her.
Su Manchun didn’t know what had happened.
Later, she read Cheng Xing’s letter. It was brief, just two lines:
—Are you happy?
—Be a proper heiress, my spring.
So Cheng Xing had left her enough money to live like an heiress.
With that money, Su Manchun started a company, turning wealth into more wealth until she was a major player.
Not on par with the Gu or Shen families, but no longer an invisible nobody in the Su family.
No longer the powerless daughter who needed her father’s approval to study abroad.
The Su family was eager to claim her as one of their own.
Su Manchun privately investigated Cheng Xing’s death, eventually learning it was tied to Shen Qingxue and Jiang Ciyi.
She’d assumed Shen Qingxue and Jiang Ciyi were deeply in love, but later saw Shen Qingxue keeping a mistress—a once-innocent actress who’d played a sprite, now cast as a ruthless demon.
Su Manchun met her once. The actress said, “A caged bird has lost its wings. How far can it fly?”
Not long after, news broke of her suicide.
Su Manchun realized the subtext: a wingless bird can’t fly, but it can fall.
She attended the actress’s funeral as a business partner. Shen Qingxue wasn’t there.
But when Su Manchun returned for a forgotten bag, she saw Shen Qingxue, usually so decisive, clutching the actress’s memorial tablet.
That’s when she knew Shen Qingxue and Jiang Ciyi’s love wasn’t as perfect as it seemed.
Later, Su Manchun traveled to see the aurora and visited many places, always alone.
It was as if she was commemorating someone through her solitude.
She lived a long time, long enough to grow weary, though she was only forty. Yet she’d risen to a level where she could dine with the Gu and Shen families.
She witnessed Jiang Ciyi and Shen Qingxue argue, saw Shen Qingxue grab Jiang Ciyi’s throat in a heated moment.
In the end, Su Manchun heard Shen Qingxue had died unexpectedly.
She wondered who was responsible. Could it be the seemingly gentle Jiang Ciyi?
She never found out. The hospital pronounced her own death sentence first: pancreatic cancer.
In her final days, she dreamed constantly of returning to her twenty-fifth year.
If she hadn’t gone abroad that year, could she have saved many people?
Could she have… not failed the one person who truly loved her?
To her surprise, when Su Manchun opened her eyes, she was twenty-five again.
Maybe, just maybe, there was still time.
She calmly finished her toast, booked a flight back to China, and watched the fog grow thicker.
After Cheng Xing slapped Lu Qi, her palm tingled, but it felt satisfying.
The scene had caused such a commotion that the book club couldn’t continue.
It ended in disarray.
The bookstore owner’s hesitant expression as he looked at Cheng Xing and Jiang Ciyi was still etched in Cheng Xing’s mind.
She felt a bit guilty toward the owner and planned to buy more books next time to boost his sales.
Lu Qi and Liu Ning’s group left first.
After leaving Fusheng Bookstore with Zheng Shuqing, Cheng Xing noticed Zheng Shuqing’s odd behavior, stealing glances at Jiang Ciyi.
Normally, the carefree Zheng Shuqing would’ve made a fuss, but despite Lu Qi’s provocation, she didn’t.
People are naturally drawn to self-preservation.
Cheng Xing understood. From the tense dynamic between Zheng Shuqing and Jiang Ciyi, she knew there was some old history between Jiang Ciyi and Lu Qi.
A romantic entanglement? Unrequited love?
Cheng Xing’s mind spun several versions of the story, all tied to love.
It couldn’t be helped—Jiang Ciyi was too beautiful, the kind of person destined for romantic tales.
Seeing they wouldn’t talk, Cheng Xing said goodbye to Zheng Shuqing at the bookstore entrance and took Jiang Ciyi back to the hospital.
The drive was silent.
Cheng Xing occasionally glanced at Jiang Ciyi, who stared out the window at the passing scenery, lost in thought.
Back in the hospital room, the doctor came for a routine check.
Cheng Xing poured Jiang Ciyi a cup of warm water, the glass just hot enough to warm her hands.
After the doctor left, Cheng Xing pulled a chair to the bedside, tucked in Jiang Ciyi’s blanket, and didn’t ask about the bookstore incident.
In the shared space, even silence felt harmonious.
But in quiet moments, the mind wanders.
Cheng Xing didn’t think about Lu Qi or her group but about… certain moments that had happened in this room, moments unique to her and Jiang Ciyi.
Like the kiss and what followed.
But their kiss had been clumsy.
Cheng Xing had only brushed Jiang Ciyi’s teeth, not touching her soft tongue.
Even so, Cheng Xing had lost control, her bl00d racing, yearning to undo Jiang Ciyi’s clothes and explore something new.
She was smitten.
Protecting Jiang Ciyi had become instinctive.
Jiang Ciyi was worth it, always shielding Cheng Xing in return.
At the Cheng household, she’d never withheld her kindness.
Despite having every reason to be cruel, Jiang Ciyi wasn’t.
That alone was enough to make Cheng Xing’s heart race.
She didn’t realize she was staring until—
“Xingxing, the sun’s setting,” Jiang Ciyi said.
Her voice was soft, with a trace of coolness, but calling her “Xingxing” carried a tender intimacy that made Cheng Xing’s ears twitch and her heart itch.
Instead of looking out the window, Cheng Xing gazed at Jiang Ciyi’s profile, bathed in the golden glow of the sunset.
Calm, gentle, beautiful.
If Jiang Ciyi knew how Cheng Xing described her, she’d probably scoff.
Imagining her reaction, Cheng Xing chuckled.
It wasn’t even funny.
Her reaction caught Jiang Ciyi’s attention. Turning, she asked, “What are you thinking, Xingxing?”
In the serene, subtly romantic atmosphere, Cheng Xing didn’t lie. “I’m thinking about you,” she said candidly.
“Hm?” Jiang Ciyi tilted her head.
Between evasion and honesty, Cheng Xing chose the latter.
After what had happened, she couldn’t brush it off with a simple apology. That wouldn’t be fair to Jiang Ciyi.
So she looked at her earnestly and said, “I’m thinking about kissing you at noon.”
Jiang Ciyi pursed her lips. “And then?”
She sounded like a guide.
Cheng Xing rested her hand on the bed’s edge, her voice soft. “I think I like you a little, A’Ci.”
Jiang Ciyi didn’t respond.
Cheng Xing continued, “It’s shameful to use that as an excuse for offending you, but I should admit it. My physical impulses got the better of me, and I…”
“Deserve death?” Jiang Ciyi interrupted lightly, her tone playful.
Cheng Xing stared at her. In the fading sunlight, Jiang Ciyi’s eyes glowed golden, like a deity gazing pityingly at the world.
Her gaze was complex, holding emotions Cheng Xing couldn’t decipher.
Jiang Ciyi lowered her eyes. “I allowed it.”
Caught in her beauty, Cheng Xing hadn’t caught the words. “Huh?”
The sunset faded, its golden light turning orange, the clouds still lingering beautifully in the sky.
In that scene, Jiang Ciyi spoke, her voice low and slow, devoid of its usual chill.
She said, “I allowed you to offend me, Xingxing.”