Transmigrated As The Villainous Scumbag Wife Of A Disabled Tycoon - Chapter 78

78

For a moment, Cheng Xing felt the air in the hospital room freeze.

Yet, in the lingering glow of the setting sun, dust motes still danced in the air.

They perfectly avoided Jiang Ciyi’s face, swirling only around her.

If one ignored the nature of the dust itself, it almost seemed as though the motes, drifting with the breeze, were butterflies fluttering around her.

Cheng Xing swallowed hard, out of place in the moment.

She was somewhat shocked.

Before saying those words, she hadn’t been oblivious to the potential consequences. She had even put herself in Jiang Ciyi’s shoes.

If she were Jiang Ciyi, hearing such words would surely make her roll her eyes. It sounded too much like the excuses of a scoundrel who had already done everything and was now groveling for forgiveness.

Despite the sincerity in Cheng Xing’s words, they couldn’t mask the truth of her actions.

No amount of flowery language could erase the harm.

At the very least, to Jiang Ciyi at the time, Cheng Xing had taken advantage of her physical strength to bully someone.

She had bullied someone… confined to a wheelchair with disabled legs.

Or, even worse, she had bullied someone whose mind and spirit were fragile.

Jiang Ciyi appeared strong, invincible, always wielding a scalpel as if ready to end a life.

But that couldn’t change the fact that she was someone still stitching together the tattered pieces of her past.

Cheng Xing’s actions were like exploiting a moment of vulnerability.

Jiang Ciyi had every reason—ten thousand reasons—to blame her, to hate her.

But Jiang Ciyi didn’t.

She said she allowed it.

It felt like a signal being released.

Cheng Xing instinctively curled her fingers, raising an eyebrow slightly. She wanted to ask something but swallowed her words after meeting Jiang Ciyi’s gaze.

Wanting to speak, yet holding back.

Those words perfectly described her state.

Cheng Xing hadn’t eaten dinner because the book club incident—where someone had tattled to the whole family—led to her being summoned to Guan Linmin’s hospital room.

First, Cheng Zijing had contacted Guan Linmin, asking her not to do such things in the future, as they could easily cause misunderstandings.

Cheng Zijing just wanted to live a carefree bachelor life, unburdened and unattached.

No ties, no pain.

He was content guarding the business empire left behind by Wang Tingwan.

Who else in the world could say they inherited a fortune from their girlfriend without even being married?

Probably just him.

So he couldn’t be so heartless.

Wang Tingwan’s parents had passed away, and she had no other family.

Friends would make new friends and gradually forget her.

But Cheng Zijing couldn’t.

On rainy days, Cheng Zijing liked to sit by the window, pour himself a glass of red wine, and place an empty glass on the table. He’d sit quietly, thinking about the things Wang Tingwan used to do. Sometimes, he’d take out a chessboard and play against himself, as if he were playing with her.

To him, this was a form of enjoyment.

Everyone thought he was lonely, but he didn’t feel that way.

As long as he hadn’t forgotten Wang Tingwan, she would always be with him.

The world would always have someone who remembered that a girl named Wang Tingwan once existed.

Cheng Zijing managed to convince Guan Linmin, but after some discussion, they realized the situation wasn’t so simple.

Then Cheng Zimo happened to visit, and the three of them talked it over.

Finally, they called Cheng Xing in.

The scene resembled a three-judge tribunal, leaving Cheng Xing a bit bewildered. As soon as she entered, Guan Linmin asked if she had eaten dinner, to which Cheng Xing instinctively replied that she had.

Afterward, Cheng Xing explained everything that happened at the book club and asked about matters related to Lu Qi.

Guan Linmin and Cheng Zimo both turned their gazes to Cheng Zijing.

Cheng Zijing became the most suitable spokesperson. He sighed, “Lu Qi is the second daughter of the Lu family. Their family is involved in international trade and some financial sectors. Her older sister was a classmate of mine in college, though we weren’t close. I met her once—she’s a workaholic, even more intense than me.”

Cheng Zijing concisely outlined her family background.

The Lu family had three daughters. Lu Xishi was a workaholic who would likely inherit the family business.

Lu Qi studied abroad after high school and only returned this year. Guan Linmin had met her at a card game once and had a good impression of her.

But hearing about her harsh remarks at the book club erased all goodwill.

The youngest, Lu Li, wasn’t particularly notable. The Lu family protected her fiercely, keeping her out of the public eye. She never appeared at banquets, and there was little information about her online. Some rumors claimed Lu Li had a congenital illness and wouldn’t live past twenty.

But she was already in her twenties and still alive.

Cheng Zijing had never met Lu Li but had heard she was particularly cute.

As soon as he said that, Guan Linmin interjected, “You like cute girls?”

“I like Wang Tingwan,” Cheng Zijing replied.

Guan Linmin: “…Oh, I like her too.”

The topic was brushed aside lightly, but what Cheng Xing didn’t expect was that the Lu family was also connected to the Xu family.

Through Cheng Zijing’s introduction, Cheng Xing learned that one of Xu Congshi’s mothers was surnamed Lu, named Lu Ling.

When Lu Ling was mentioned, Guan Linmin’s eyes lit up. “We went to the same school. Lu Ling was stunningly beautiful, excelled academically, and was skilled in shooting, equestrianism, swimming, and basketball—every subject was an A. Such a pity she didn’t end up with me.”

Everyone: “…”

“Is it appropriate to say that?” Cheng Xing asked weakly.

“Who doesn’t have a crush during school?” Guan Linmin said carelessly. “Didn’t you go crazy over Su Manchun back then…”

She stopped mid-sentence.

But not entirely.

Guan Linmin glanced at Cheng Xing and noticed she didn’t react much.

“Alright, you and Jiang Jiang are good together now,” Guan Linmin added, trying to smooth things over. “I think Jiangjiang suits you better.”

Cheng Xing, lost in thought, asked a critical question, “Do all these wealthy families in Jianggang arrange marriages? To stabilize their businesses through alliances?”

Cheng Zimo, who had been silent, shifted slightly and answered, “In the past, yes. It was an unspoken rule that only shared interests could ensure stability. Marriage alliances were like forcibly tying the other party to your ship to sink or swim together. When a company faced a crisis, marriage was a common tactic.”

“Like sending a princess for a political marriage in ancient times?” Cheng Xing frowned. “That’s too cruel…”

“Not exactly,” Cheng Zimo explained. “Jianggang isn’t large, but it’s economically vibrant, with wealth concentrated among a few. People in these circles inevitably cross paths in school or life. Those who aren’t as academically inclined are often sent abroad to ‘gild’ their resumes before returning. Over time, the circle consists of the same familiar faces. Many relationships form naturally, achieving a kind of balance.”

It wasn’t about being a pawn sent off for marriage.

Rather, it was about mutual consent, with an added layer of mutual benefit.

But in their generation, there was a clear trend of rejection. Over the past few decades, Jianggang’s wealth had increasingly concentrated upward, with no new bl00d entering the circle.

Within the same social stratum, families were like vines intertwined on the same tree, their interests deeply entangled.

Tracing back a couple of generations, there were no close relatives, but distant ones were common.

Jianggang’s elite circle hadn’t seen a major shake-up in a long time.

Even if families wanted to solidify ties through marriage, finding suitable matches was difficult, and the risk of inbreeding loomed.

So, by Cheng Xing’s generation, such practices had nearly vanished.

Cheng Zimo was a good teacher, explaining things clearly without using obscure terms.

But… for Cheng Xing, it was a bit too much information.

Not that she couldn’t understand—it was just that Cheng Zimo was telling her more than she needed to know.

When she first arrived in this world, Cheng Xing remembered Cheng Zimo as a man of few words, steady and reserved, with a hint of distrust and disappointment in his eyes when he looked at her.

But now, he patiently explained knowledge she’d never need in her lifetime.

Cheng Xing was already married and had no intention of entering the Cheng family’s business or navigating the complexities of corporate alliances. Yet Cheng Zimo didn’t seem to mind, even opening the door for her to get involved.

Cheng Xing felt his kindness.

The next moment, Cheng Zimo turned his head and said, “You’re a Cheng. You have the right to know these things.”

Perhaps worried she’d misunderstand, he added, “If you want to.”

Cheng Xing: “?”

What did that mean?

Was she not a Cheng before?

Then she realized Cheng Zimo meant that if she was interested and willing to learn, he’d teach her.

She noticed his averted face, slightly awkward.

…

What a good brother.

Just a bit tsundere.

Though Cheng Xing had no plans to get involved, with a great teacher in front of her, she’d be foolish not to ask.

“What about the Gu family? I heard they’re very mysterious, so much so that some people don’t even know their surname,” Cheng Xing said, suppressing her burning curiosity and pretending to be calm. “Do they not form alliances with other families? What exactly do they do?”

This question wasn’t just Cheng Xing’s curiosity.

Guan Linmin was curious too.

All eyes turned to Cheng Zimo.

Cheng Zimo cleared his throat softly. “It’s not as mystical as rumors make it out to be. But the Gu family is indeed Jianggang’s most secretive family. And it’s not just the Gu family—there are other forces as well.”

“What? It’s not like it’s metaphysics, is it?” Cheng Xing was astonished.

When Cheng Zimo mentioned “other forces,” her imagination ran wild.

Cheng Zimo paused. “It’s not that mystical.”

In Cheng Zimo’s description, Cheng Xing pictured a mysterious family that had thrived for centuries without decline, like the term she’d learned in school—“the empire on which the sun never sets.”

In other words, the Gu family was Jianggang’s “sun-never-sets” family.

Few could trace the Gu family’s origins clearly. Generations back, they were aristocrats, producing numerous officials. During turbulent times, they relocated and turned to business, amassing immeasurable wealth. When the nation needed rebuilding, they donated vast sums without hesitation, then returned to Jianggang to establish themselves as the city’s earliest capital.

At Jianggang’s lowest point, the Gu family could prop up the entire city. Their businesses spanned the globe, quickly revitalizing Jianggang’s economy.

They solved unemployment, established international trade, engaged in philanthropy, organized charity auctions, and bought back antiques at high prices to donate to museums.

It could be said that Jianggang’s prosperity today was inseparable from the Gu family.

But as Jianggang flourished, the Gu family faded into the background.

Everyone knew there was a powerful family in Jianggang, but no one knew exactly who they were.

They never gave interviews, and even business dealings were handled by assistants.

Gu family members rarely appeared in public.

But whenever they were mentioned, no one didn’t tread carefully.

The Shen family had risen by aligning with the Gu family, so there was a saying in Jianggang’s elite circle: whoever could connect with the Gu family would become the next top-tier power.

In other words, the Cheng family was currently at its peak.

But if a lesser family allied with the Gu family, they could surpass the Chengs’ status in Jianggang’s elite circle in no time.

Cheng Xing’s curiosity deepened. This was her first real encounter with the elite world.

“How do you… rank these families?” Cheng Xing had only seen such dynamics in novels and dramas. Now, faced with real people, her curiosity overflowed. “It’s not like you rank them by GDP, right?”

Seeing her curiosity, Cheng Zimo didn’t hold back. “There’s an old saying: the business world is a battlefield. In some ways, that’s true. When you face an opponent, you can usually tell whether you can afford to cross them. Those you can’t afford to cross are the powerful ones. Simply put, if everyone fears offending you, you’re the most powerful in the circle.”

Cheng Xing: “.”

Impressive.

No wonder they called her Jianggang’s top heiress.

Because she had the Cheng family behind her.

Because Cheng Zimo was so far-sighted and strategic, building a vast business empire in just a few years, making him a central figure in the circle.

Offending him could set off a chain reaction, so no one dared.

Aside from the Gu and Shen families, Cheng Xing really had little to fear.

Like today, when she clashed with Lu Qi.

The outcome was just the heads of both families sitting down to negotiate, because the cost of all-out conflict was too high.

The Cheng family had the strength to sit at the negotiation table.

But if Cheng Xing had clashed with Gu Qingfeng, the Gu family could crush the Chengs without needing to negotiate.

If I can overpower you without resistance, why bother negotiating?

I’d beat you until you’re too scared to ever cross me again.

Because the Cheng family currently lacked the strength to sit at the same table as the Gu family.

To be precise, no one in Jianggang did.

After understanding this, Cheng Xing felt newfound respect for Cheng Zimo, giving him a thumbs-up.

Cheng Zimo didn’t get it.

Cheng Xing praised him outright, “You’re amazing, Big Brother.”

“What about me?” Cheng Zijing raised an eyebrow, practically begging for praise.

Cheng Xing gave him a thumbs-up too. “Amazing.”

Perhaps it was Cheng Xing’s flattery that worked, because after a pause, Cheng Zimo shared something about the Gu family.

He said that while the Gu family had always been mysterious, their influence was so great among the public—once even surpassing the government’s—that it wasn’t entirely a good thing.

Clearly, the Gu family was strategic, doing the right things at the right times.

They began to downplay their presence to avoid drawing too much attention.

But it wasn’t always like it is now.

The shift started after an incident in the Gu family.

The Gu family had a tradition of bearing twins. Years ago, there were news reports—though online information had been scrubbed, some old newspapers remained.

Back then, the Gu family wasn’t ostentatious, but journalists clamored to cover them.

This had been the case for generations.

But in the previous generation—or rather, the current one.

Because Cheng Zimo had never managed to connect directly with the Gu family. Though they had some business dealings, he only ever dealt with assistants, never meeting a Gu family member.

It was unclear whether the Gu family had completed its succession.

Their so-called succession was whether the previous generation still held power or if someone like Cheng Zimo had already taken over as president.

But it was known that the previous generation had twin daughters, one of whom was taken.

Who took her was unknown, but they searched for her for a long time.

After that, the Gu family became even more low-key. Later, the girl was found, but shortly after, a fire broke out at the Gu family’s villa.

It was said the whole family was inside, and the girl who was found set the fire, as if blaming her parents for failing to protect her. It nearly killed everyone.

In the end, only the girl died.

From then on, the Gu family truly “faded” from view.

It sounded like they had suffered some kind of trauma.

“Why would someone take their daughter?” Cheng Xing tried to push past the shock of the story and asked about the part that intrigued her.

This could very well be Jiang Ciyi’s background.

“The Gu family isn’t just involved in business,” Cheng Zimo said, frowning. “I’ve found some things, but not much.”

“Many in the Gu family hold significant influence in the scientific community. But that information is heavily protected, and I couldn’t access it. The only thing I know is that in the generation before last, someone won the Merkel Chemistry Prize.”

The Merkel science awards in this world were the highest honor in academia.

Since Jiang Ciyi had switched to working with Xu Congshi on research, Cheng Xing had looked into it briefly.

It was equivalent to the Nobel Prize in her world.

But Cheng Zimo’s final summary was this: the Gu family had made too many enemies, and it was unclear whether it was a business rival or someone else who took their child.

Cheng Xing had read about covert international conflicts, like spies kidnapping children to force scientists to hand over valuable research.

A great scientist could be as valuable as an army.

But how was the girl found again?

If she was truly found, what about Jiang Ciyi?

Had her search been misguided?

…

Cheng Zimo didn’t know more beyond that.

But for Cheng Xing, this was already invaluable information.

The damn system hadn’t given her enough of the original novel’s content. Whether the author wrote it too vaguely or what, Cheng Xing had no knowledge of what Cheng Zimo shared.

The Gu family’s rise, their ties to the Shen family, and the reason Jiang Ciyi was lost.

The original novel focused on Jiang Ciyi and Shen Qingxue’s love story, with everyone else serving as NPCs for their romance.

Cheng Xing silently cursed the system, then laughed it off in the hospital room. “That’s quite a twisty story.”

“Why are you so interested in the Gu family?” Cheng Zijing asked sharply. “You used to not care about anything.”

Cheng Xing had already prepared an excuse. “Didn’t Gu Qingfeng film at Tinglan Mansion recently? I was thinking about poaching her for Big Brother’s company. She’s a total cash cow.”

Cheng Zimo stared at her.

Cheng Xing shrugged helplessly. “I tried digging into her, but it’s hard to find anything. It’s the information age—how can there be nothing? So I suspected someone was hiding her key details, and I thought of the Gu family.”

“You’re not wrong. She is indeed a Gu,” Cheng Zimo paused. “Likely the second daughter.”

As the head of the Cheng family, Cheng Zimo naturally had access to more information.

“I looked into her,” Cheng Zimo said, habitually curling his fingers while thinking. His tone was heavy. “I probably know her older sister too. Her real name is Gu Qingqiu.”

“What? A fake name too?” Cheng Xing was shocked.

The Gu family was truly mysterious.

“When we were in school, she went by Jiang Yuxi,” Cheng Zimo said.

Cheng Xing: “…”

Did rich people’s school days have to be so complicated?

Cheng Zijing hadn’t found this information easily and hadn’t planned to share it. But seeing his sister’s eager curiosity, he couldn’t help himself.

More importantly, the current Cheng Xing listened attentively and gave feedback, making it feel worthwhile.

The current Cheng Xing?

Cheng Zijing had a fleeting moment of confusion but quickly continued, “I was college classmates with Lu Xishi and Jiang Yuxi, but we weren’t close. It was when I looked into Gu Qingfeng that she reminded me.”

More accurately, it was a warning.

To Jiang Yuxi, family was a line not to be crossed. But for the sake of old school ties, she didn’t escalate, only sabotaging one of the Cheng family’s projects.

That’s when Cheng Zimo realized the gap between the Chengs and the Gus wasn’t just a river—it was a chasm.

But he omitted those details, sticking to the essentials: “The Gu family has three daughters: Gu Qingqiu, Gu Qingfeng, and Jiang Shan. Gu Qingfeng uses her real name in the entertainment industry. Jiang Shan skipped grades and is now studying for a medical doctorate abroad, about to graduate.”

Cheng Xing: “…”

Cheng Xing had gained a lot of useful information from Cheng Zimo and forgot all about dinner.

On her way back from Guan Linmin’s room, she kept thinking: if what Cheng Zimo said was true, was Jiang Ciyi really not the Gu family’s lost daughter?

It was just a fleeting thought, quickly dismissed.

If that were true, she’d blow up the damn system right now!!

When she first got the mission, it seemed simple. She had read the original novel, knew Jiang Ciyi’s official partner was Shen Qingxue, and knew key characters. Especially that Jiang Ciyi was the daughter of Jianggang’s most mysterious family—none other than the Gu family.

So, was the girl they found back then a fake?

But given how cautious the Gu family was, they would’ve thoroughly vetted any girl before accepting her as their lost daughter.

Who would believe a random girl claiming to be their missing child?

If so, what about Jiang Ciyi?

How could Jiang Ciyi prove she was the Gu family’s lost daughter?

Suddenly, Cheng Xing thought of something else—if the Gu family only lost one daughter and stopped searching after finding her, why did the original novel say they actively found Jiang Ciyi?

…

Cheng Xing only had fragmented clues, unable to piece together the full story.

But the system had told her that to complete the mission, she had to solve the puzzle, not reverse-engineer from the answer—that would be cheating.

Cheng Xing couldn’t figure it out. She had already reached the door of Jiang Ciyi’s hospital room.

It was late, and the doctor had made the final rounds. The room’s lights were dim. Cheng Xing carefully pushed the door open.

She found Jiang Ciyi lying in bed, asleep.

Her sleeping posture was gentle, unlike Cheng Xing’s wild sprawl.

Of course, Jiang Ciyi couldn’t sprawl now.

Her legs were broken.

Sigh.

Cheng Xing sat by the bed, watching Jiang Ciyi, gently brushing aside a few strands of hair covering her face.

Even asleep, Jiang Ciyi was beautiful. The shop assistant was right—she had a fragile quality.

It made people want to protect her.

If only she could always be protected from harm.

Someone this good deserved to be cherished.

Cheng Xing was so captivated that she didn’t notice when those sharp eyes opened, catching her off guard.

“Pretty?” Jiang Ciyi asked.

She didn’t seem like she’d been asleep—her eyes were clear.

Cheng Xing jolted, instantly alert.

But remembering what Cheng Zimo had said, her heart ached for her. Without thinking too much, she leaned down gently and hugged Jiang Ciyi, who was lying in bed.

For a moment, she felt Jiang Ciyi’s body stiffen.

It seemed to be her body’s defense mechanism.

No matter how many times Cheng Xing hugged her, she’d tense up in that initial moment.

Only after a while would she relax.

Cheng Xing patted her shoulder. “A’Ci, you’re really beautiful.”

Jiang Ciyi paused, her tone one Cheng Xing had never heard before, like she was amused despite herself.

“Got anything else besides that?” Jiang Ciyi said.

Cheng Xing buried her head in her shoulder, her voice muffled. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

Jiang Ciyi: “…”

“Are you using this to dodge the other topic?”

The other topic?

Cheng Xing suddenly remembered—before she left the room, they had been discussing her “overstepping” behavior from earlier that day.

Cheng Xing didn’t mean to brush it off, but she hadn’t figured out how to handle it.

So she stayed silent for a long, long time.

Long enough that Jiang Ciyi thought she wouldn’t get an answer.

Cheng Xing’s voice was low. “I crossed a line today. I might cross it again in the future. I hope…”

She paused, then, taking advantage of her position, lightly bit Jiang Ciyi’s neck. “I hope you’ll allow it in the future too.”