Transmigrated As The Villainous Scumbag Wife Of A Disabled Tycoon - Chapter 8

8

Xu Congshi had just left the laboratory, removing her gloves and mask before meticulously washing her hands using the seven-step method. She splashed cold water on her face with her slender, pale hands, making herself feel more alert. Only after drying her face did she pick up her phone.

Upon seeing Jiang Ciyi’s message, she immediately replied: [Who are you checking on?]

This junior schoolmate of hers was usually quiet, with exceptional talent in forensic science but poor social skills and little understanding of social niceties. Xu Congshi couldn’t imagine Jiang Ciyi ever asking for her help.

It was only when she needed a favor that Jiang Ciyi would politely call her “Senior.”

For the sake of that “Senior,” Xu Congshi added another message: [Didn’t you get married? Why not ask your wife to check? She knows a lot of people in Jianggang; it’d probably be faster to ask her.]

Jiang Ciyi replied: [I’m checking on her.]

Xu Congshi frowned: [Checking what? Did you two have a falling out? You just got married not long ago, didn’t you? I don’t like her either—she seems like a flirt just by looking at her—but since you thought she was marriage material, I didn’t say anything. How did things get this bad so quickly?]

Her typing speed was so fast it was almost a blur.

All questions, all fueled by a burning curiosity for gossip.

Jiang Ciyi responded with a string of ellipses, expressing her exasperation through the screen.

Jiang Ciyi: [I want to check if she has any twin sisters.]

Xu Congshi: [?]

Jiang Ciyi: [When you have time, come to the hospital. I’ll give you something to take for identification to see if it’s the same person.]

Xu Congshi: […?]

Jiang Ciyi: [Also, help me out tonight. Go to Wangqingshan to watch a show.]

Cheng Xing woke up in the afternoon. A nurse came to administer her IV drip and change her medication.

Dr. Lan also came to check on her, consulted with Jiang Ciyi, nodded in satisfaction, and left.

The ward was quiet. Jiang Ciyi kept her eyes closed, not speaking, but Cheng Xing knew she wasn’t asleep. There was a subtle awkwardness in the air.

After a while, Cheng Xing asked, “Are you hungry?”

Jiang Ciyi replied coolly, “What? Going to make me yam porridge?”

Cheng Xing: “…”

“It was an accident.” Cheng Xing said, feeling an itch on her arm. “You saw it too—I even messed myself up.”

She didn’t forget to continue the story she’d made up before bed. “Maybe this is the punishment from the Bodhisattva in my dream.”

Jiang Ciyi frowned slightly and asked calmly, “Since when did you start believing in Buddhism?”

“Just a couple of days ago. That dream felt so real,” Cheng Xing said. “It was like my soul was purified. You wouldn’t know since you haven’t had it.”

Jiang Ciyi: “Oh, so you’re practically psychic now?”

“Not yet.” Cheng Xing continued to fabricate. “But I believe if I keep being a good person, I might get there?”

She wasn’t sure.

She’d never been a bad person.

The conversation with Jiang Ciyi ended abruptly there. Jiang Ciyi didn’t respond, only letting out a soft scoff.

Cheng Xing was hungry. With three hours left until her appointment with Xu Jingcheng, she checked the location of Wangqingshan—it was a half-hour drive, giving her enough time to order takeout, eat slowly, and head out.

She ordered food for Jiang Ciyi too, casually asking what she wanted and if she had any dietary restrictions.

Jiang Ciyi only said she wasn’t hungry.

Cheng Xing recalled that Jiang Ciyi had barely eaten anything in the past two days and couldn’t help but say, “You’re not eating at all. Are you trying to become an immortal?”

“Shuqing already took me to eat.” Jiang Ciyi said with a slight smirk, not quite a smile. “Aren’t you the one trying to become an immortal? You’re already psychic, so why bother eating? Aren’t you afraid the Buddha will judge you?”

“The Buddha is compassionate; he won’t mind. At worst, I’ll just avoid meat.” Cheng Xing said as she browsed the takeout app. Most options were the usual—spicy hotpot, vermicelli, rice noodles, small dishes. The pictures didn’t spark much appetite.

In a novel world, couldn’t they make the food a bit more creative?!

There were still plenty of choices, triggering her decision paralysis.

As she clicked into a rice noodle shop, Jiang Ciyi said softly, “Didn’t you say it was a Bodhisattva who guided you? How did it become the Buddha?”

Cheng Xing: “…”

Wow, Jiang Ciyi was relentless.

Still probing, even now.

“They’re all part of the same family,” Cheng Xing said. “I’m a bit fuzzy on the details.”

“You didn’t hit your head or have a concussion. How could you have amnesia?” Jiang Ciyi said. “Should we arrange a full-body checkup for you, Cheng Xing?”

Cheng Xing pursed her lips, quickly ordered spicy rice noodles with an extra serving of crispy pork, and prepared to face Jiang Ciyi head-on.

“No need.” Cheng Xing said. “That night we argued, didn’t I hit my head? And you forgot—my neck and the back of my hand are injured too. It’s not like you need a brain injury to have memory issues.”

Her tone was calm, but she spoke faster than usual.

Jiang Ciyi’s relentless questioning had finally thrown her off balance.

But just when Cheng Xing was on high alert, Jiang Ciyi stopped. “Fine, if you say so.”

Cheng Xing: “…”

It felt like punching cotton.

The spicy rice noodles arrived quickly. As soon as the crispy pork was placed on the table, Jiang Ciyi twitched her nose. “I think I smell meat.”

Cheng Xing handed her the crispy pork. “Your nose is sharp. No wonder they say forensic experts have a great sense of smell.”

Jiang Ciyi glanced at her. “Didn’t you order this for yourself? If you give it to me, what will you eat?”

Cheng Xing said, “This.”

Then she started eating.

Though her family wasn’t wealthy, she’d been raised with strict manners. Her table etiquette was impeccable, embodying the principle of not speaking while eating or sleeping.

Only in moments like these did Cheng Xing feel the silence in the room wasn’t awkward.

After she finished, she called Sister Zhou, asking her to bring any car from the garage.

Sister Zhou didn’t know what she was up to but complied.

Half an hour later, the car was parked at the hospital. Cheng Xing said goodbye to Jiang Ciyi, who didn’t respond.

Jiang Ciyi’s leg injury kept her bedridden most of the day. She didn’t seem to enjoy using her phone, either. Cheng Xing rarely saw her on it; most of the time, she rested with her eyes closed or occasionally looked out the window at the scenery.

Cheng Xing had grown used to her coldness.

She was surprised at how quickly she’d adapted, but it felt like Jiang Ciyi was meant to be this way.

Jiang Ciyi was a proud, aloof woman—a flower on a high peak, not meant to be plucked.

Cheng Xing asked if she should bring back a late-night snack, but Jiang Ciyi declined.

Before leaving, Cheng Xing instructed the nurses’ station to keep a close eye on Jiang Ciyi, ensuring she had water, food, or help with personal needs like using the bathroom, since her wheelchair made things difficult.

Cheng Xing thought of everything, even having Sister Zhou leave snacks at the nurses’ station.

The nurses privately praised Cheng Xing as a good wife, saying Jiang Ciyi was lucky to be married to someone like her.

After Cheng Xing left, a nurse changed Jiang Ciyi’s IV and brought her medication.

Compared to Cheng Xing, Jiang Ciyi had far more pills to take.

Jiang Ciyi swallowed the bitter medicine without flinching. The nurse chatted with her, saying enviously, “Miss Jiang, you’re so lucky to be married to someone who loves you so much. Before Miss Cheng left, she gave us a thousand instructions to make sure you’re not neglected.”

“What did she say?” Jiang Ciyi asked, holding a water cup and sipping slowly, her demeanor cool and detached.

The nurse glanced at her but quickly looked away.

Both were beautiful, but Miss Cheng was the kind of woman who made people feel at ease, like a warm spring breeze. Miss Jiang, however, always had a cold expression and a dark, intense gaze that made the nurse avoid eye contact.

“She told us to change your medication on time, bring you water and food,” the nurse said. “She even left snacks at the nurses’ station and asked us to keep an extra eye on you. She said she’d be back later.”

Jiang Ciyi smiled faintly. “She’s pretty nice, isn’t she?”

“Nice? She’s amazing,” the nurse said without hesitation.

Jiang Ciyi set the cup down. “I used to think so too.”

But she was just a hypocrite.

Yet, with her recent behavior, Jiang Ciyi suddenly felt she was still the same old Cheng Xing.

Her actions had been strange lately. First, she handed over her phone. The old Cheng Xing never let Jiang Ciyi touch her phone. Once, when Jiang Ciyi accidentally picked it up, Cheng Xing threw a huge fit.

Of course, Jiang Ciyi didn’t let her off easily either. It took flowers, gifts, and endless coaxing for Jiang Ciyi to even acknowledge her again.

But yesterday, Cheng Xing casually handed her the phone to order takeout.

Hilariously, there wasn’t even a takeout app on her phone. Jiang Ciyi downloaded one, registered it with the hospital’s address, and deleted the registration info afterward, and Cheng Xing didn’t suspect a thing.

It was laughable. When did the spoiled princess of Jianggang’s Cheng family start eating takeout?

And today, she ordered spicy rice noodles.

Her hesitation and indecision while ordering were identical to the students Jiang Ciyi had mentored at the Public Security Bureau’s technical department. She remembered asking a student, “What’s so hard about choosing?”

“Master, you don’t get it. After two months in one place, you get tired of all the nearby takeout. Most of it’s the same stuff—not even that good—so it’s tough to decide.”

Cheng Xing’s demeanor suggested she’d ordered takeout hundreds of times.

Also, despite her privileged background, Cheng Xing was a terrible student. Her family had paid for her to attend a mediocre university, studying an equally mediocre business management program, where she failed nearly every course.

After all, she was someone who scored barely over 100 points total across seven subjects in high school.

But suddenly, she was acting smart, talking about DNA as “deoxyribonucleic acid” like a medical student.

Today, she even claimed she could treat Jiang Ciyi’s leg and mentioned a friend.

Jiang Ciyi didn’t know many of Cheng Xing’s shady friends, but most were Jianggang’s idle rich kids. Xu Congshi was part of that circle but never associated with people like Cheng Xing.

It was simple—she looked down on them.

Jiang Ciyi suddenly wondered if this was a new scheme by Cheng Xing to trick her back to the Cheng family, to lock her in that dark, gloomy attic again.

Impossible.

Jiang Ciyi would never let herself fall to that point again in this lifetime.

This marriage had to end.

Cheng Xing arrived at Wangqingshan on time, driving a yellow Lamborghini.

There was a decent crowd, mostly there for the spectacle. The original Cheng Xing had many friends, and people greeted her as soon as she arrived. She responded with reserved nods.

Still in her hospital gown, she approached Xu Jingcheng and asked what they were competing in.

“Of course, it’s about who’s faster.” Xu Jingcheng said. “Whoever reaches the finish line first.”

Cheng Xing nodded. “Alright.”

Xu Jingcheng glanced at her car, frowning. “You’re driving that?”

“It’ll do.” Cheng Xing said.

She’d never raced or gambled, let alone risked her life.

But she kept her promises.

She’d looked up racing rules online that afternoon. Now, she put on her protective gear and got into the car.

In the crowd, Xu Congshi took a photo and sent it to Jiang Ciyi: [She does seem a bit different from before.]

Jiang Ciyi asked: [How so?]

Xu Congshi watched the two cars line up at the starting point as the crowd buzzed with discussion. After thinking, she replied: [Her aura.]