Transmigrated As The Villainous Scumbag Wife Of A Disabled Tycoon - Chapter 84
84
Cheng Xing didn’t ask about anything related to Jiang Ciyi.
Even though she was deeply curious about the past between Jiang Ciyi and Lu Qi.
Speculation was just speculation, after all, and she hadn’t gotten any confirmation.
But she knew that these people’s mouths were full of half-truths.
It was likely they had heard rumors from somewhere, which had been exaggerated into distorted versions over time.
If Cheng Xing wanted to know, she would hear it from Jiang Ciyi herself.
Afterward, Cheng Xing didn’t return to the private room. She sent a message to Cheng Zimo and left early.
Just then, Daisy texted her, asking where she had placed some documents. Cheng Xing drove straight back to the company.
As a somewhat dispensable presence in the department, only Daisy ever gave her tasks. After arriving, Cheng Xing handed over the documents and made Daisy a cup of coffee.
Daisy casually asked about her recent activities before getting back to work.
Cheng Xing’s leave hadn’t been canceled yet, so she only exchanged brief greetings with Jiang Bai and Lan Bo when she ran into them.
She wandered around the company for a bit, noticing that every department was bustling with activity in an orderly manner.
Seeing her idle, Daisy asked her to run an errand to the entertainment department to deliver some documents.
When Cheng Xing entered the elevator, there was already someone inside.
A woman wearing a khaki baseball cap stood on the left side, accompanied by a man in a suit who looked like a bodyguard, his arm muscles practically bursting through his shirt.
It wasn’t unusual to share an elevator, but as Cheng Xing glanced over, she found the woman vaguely familiar.
It wasn’t until the elevator ascended two floors that she realized who it was.
It was the woman who had appeared with Dr. Qin at the funeral yesterday—her name was… Luo Xi, if she remembered correctly.
Cheng Xing recognized her but didn’t take the initiative to greet her.
It was clear that Luo Xi wasn’t particularly friendly toward her; the looks she gave were always complicated.
Almost as if she held a grudge.
Cheng Xing sifted through the original host’s memories but couldn’t unearth any useful information.
The only thing she knew was that they were high school classmates, though not close.
But it wasn’t just Luo Xi’s strange looks—Dr. Qin had also given her an odd look the first time they met.
Cheng Xing had sensed something off at the time, but she couldn’t find any clues about their enmity in her memories.
It was possible that, like the situation with Wang Tingwan, these memories had been deliberately buried by the original host.
Cheng Xing didn’t know and wasn’t about to act recklessly.
She pretended not to notice.
Coincidentally, they got off on the same floor.
When the elevator doors opened, Cheng Xing didn’t move, letting them exit first.
Luo Xi instinctively paused, expecting Cheng Xing to go first, but when she saw Cheng Xing remain still, she glanced at her thoughtfully from behind her sunglasses, meeting Cheng Xing’s gentle eyes.
Luo Xi quickly looked away, her steps slightly flustered as she exited.
Cheng Xing treated it as a minor episode. She delivered Daisy’s documents to their destination and then texted Daisy to ask if there was anything else to do. If not, she was ready to leave.
Daisy sent her a red envelope, which Cheng Xing didn’t accept.
Among the people in the department, Cheng Xing only had a bit of a personal connection with Daisy.
Helping her with small tasks was something she did willingly.
But unexpectedly, a little later, Daisy asked if she had seen Luo Xi on that floor.
Cheng Xing had indeed seen her but was surprised that Daisy knew Luo Xi’s name. Was Luo Xi some kind of celebrity?
Cheng Xing didn’t hide it: [I happened to see her when I came up.]
Daisy mentioned that the top agent in the entertainment department hadn’t arrived yet, so now was a good time to go to the meeting room to ask Luo Xi for an autograph. She had already cleared it, so it was fine.
As Cheng Xing walked toward the meeting room, she teased: [Getting an autograph for who?]
Daisy: [My niece is her die-hard fan. If she doesn’t get it, she won’t sleep tonight.]
Cheng Xing: […Is she a celebrity?]
Daisy: [.]
Daisy sent a string of question marks: [You don’t know Luo Xi??]
Cheng Xing: […]
Cheng Xing: [Should I?]
Daisy: [You need to catch up.]
Daisy: [Seriously.]
Cheng Xing reached the meeting room door, put away her phone, and knocked. A clear, crisp voice responded: “Come in.”
Inside, only Luo Xi and her bodyguard were present. After entering, Cheng Xing relayed Daisy’s request, slightly polished, and placed a pen and paper on the table.
Luo Xi glanced at her, then stared at the paper and pen, lost in thought, not writing for a long time.
Cheng Xing thought she might not know what to write and quickly texted Daisy. Daisy promptly sent the message she wanted.
“Hello, could you write this message?” Cheng Xing showed her phone to Luo Xi.
Her unintentional step closer caused Luo Xi’s hand to tremble, the pen tip scratching a long mark across the paper.
The bodyguard immediately stepped forward to intervene, and Cheng Xing stepped back. “Sorry.”
Her phone was still on the table. Luo Xi looked at the ruined signature paper, let out a soft sigh, and pressed her left hand on her right wrist. She wrote the message over the black streak, turning the nearly discarded paper into something artistic.
The pen paused on the paper. Luo Xi lifted her hand and capped the pen.
Cheng Xing couldn’t help but admire Luo Xi’s creative touch—she was a very imaginative person.
The bodyguard handed the signed paper to Cheng Xing, who thanked them and prepared to leave.
Just then, the office door opened again.
The top agent from Wenxing Media appeared, sporting a sharp short haircut, light makeup, and strikingly pink hair that made a bold visual impact.
Since Daisy had already smoothed things over, the agent didn’t question Cheng Xing’s presence and went straight to the main seat, greeting Luo Xi after sitting down.
Luo Xi took off her sunglasses.
As Cheng Xing closed the door, she caught Luo Xi glancing back, their eyes meeting.
Luo Xi’s eyes were strikingly clear, shimmering with unshed tears.
The agent noticed and asked what was wrong.
Luo Xi brushed it off lightly: “My eyes have been inflamed lately, always tearing up.”
Cheng Xing didn’t listen further and left with the signed paper.
But as the elevator descended, Luo Xi’s final look lingered in her mind.
Those eyes seemed to interrogate her soul, making her instinctively want to uncover her connection to Luo Xi. But as she thought deeper, a dull pain throbbed in her head.
It was as if someone was forcibly pushing her out of her memories.
For a moment, she felt like her soul was detaching from this body.
When she stepped out of the elevator, Daisy was waiting with a cup of milk tea. They exchanged items.
Cheng Xing hadn’t yet recovered from the shock.
It felt like a battle.
And she had nearly lost.
The cost of losing would have been leaving this body, becoming a wandering spirit.
Daisy noticed her abnormality: “Are you okay? Are you sick?”
“No.” As Cheng Xing spoke, her throat felt like it was lined with blades, and she winced in pain.
“Should I take you to the hospital?” Daisy didn’t believe her.
Cheng Xing shook her head and found an empty corner to sit in. The moment her body touched the chair, it was as if her bones had dissolved, and she slumped involuntarily. But she braced herself with her hands, enduring the pain to avoid losing composure in front of Daisy.
“You sure you don’t need help?” Daisy said. “You look really bad.”
“I’ll be fine after a rest.” Cheng Xing’s voice had recovered, though it was still a bit hoarse.
Daisy pulled up her phone’s camera and held it in front of Cheng Xing. “Take a look at yourself.”
In the lens, Cheng Xing’s forehead was covered in fine sweat, even on the tip of her nose, and her lips were as pale as snow.
Cheng Xing forced a smile. “I’m fine, really. I just need a moment.”
“You were fine when you went upstairs.” Daisy analyzed. “Did someone up there give you a hard time?”
“No.” Cheng Xing made an excuse: “It’s an old health issue.”
Daisy: […]
Daisy’s expression shifted from shock to sympathy to pity, ending with a silent sigh.
Her reaction made it clear she had misunderstood, but Cheng Xing didn’t bother explaining.
Daisy patted her shoulder. “I’ll treat you better from now on.”
Cheng Xing: …?
The strange sensation in her body felt like a warning.
So, on her way to pick up Jiang Ciyi, when the system suddenly appeared and informed her that her mission progress had reached 70% and encouraged her to keep going, Cheng Xing asked about matters related to the original host.
She didn’t expect the system to answer.
But after a brief silence, the system didn’t give a direct response. Instead, it asked: [Awoo! Do you remember your mission deadline?]
“I do. Three months,” Cheng Xing said.
System: [Awoo! How much time is left?]
“Forty days.” Cheng Xing’s voice was subdued.
System: [Awoo! After forty days, the original host will briefly take control of this body. The abnormalities you’re experiencing now are due to magnetic field fluctuations, which will occur frequently until you complete the mission. So, you need to finish it as soon as possible.]
What??
Hadn’t it said that after the mission, she’d enter reincarnation?
“Then what about me?” Cheng Xing asked. “Where will I go?”
System: [Awoo! You’ll start the next cycle, entering a new plane world and beginning a new mission.]
Cheng Xing fell silent.
After a long pause, she asked, “Will I lose my memories?”
Would she forget everything, forget Jiang Ciyi, and start the next mission as a blank slate?
The system paused briefly: [Awoo! Memory is a random event. It might trigger, or it might not.]
Cheng Xing had always thought that if she didn’t complete the mission in three months, the system would rewind time, letting her restart the tasks with her memories intact.
She had even considered that if she failed, the next attempt would come with some kind of advantage, making it easier to target Jiang Ciyi without the initial panic and recklessness.
But she hadn’t expected…
“How can you guarantee this is my first mission?” Cheng Xing asked. “What if this is my Nth attempt, and I failed before, lost my memories, and started over…?”
The thought was chilling.
Cheng Xing didn’t dare continue.
The system assured her this was her first attempt.
“What about Jiang Ciyi?” Cheng Xing asked. “If I fail, and the original host returns, what happens to her?”
After a silence, the system answered: [Awoo! If Plane 7531 declares mission failure, it will be destroyed.]
For some reason, despite its mechanical, synthesized voice, Cheng Xing detected a trace of sadness in its tone.
An emotion that shouldn’t belong to a machine.
What was it sad about?
Was it the same thing that made Cheng Xing sad?
Cheng Xing thought about it. If this world were destroyed, she would still have to continue her missions.
That meant another small world, another Jiang Ciyi.
But the Jiang Ciyi in this world, the one she was interacting with, would die.
Cheng Xing’s throat tightened.
After the system finished speaking, it vanished. She stopped the car by the roadside, grappling with this distressing revelation alone.
Cheng Xing arrived at the lab to pick up Jiang Ciyi on time. Jiang Ciyi was already waiting downstairs.
She wore a gray wool coat with a checkered blanket over her lap, engrossed in her phone.
Cheng Xing honked to get her attention, then checked her face in the rearview mirror before getting out. Her complexion was still pale, so she applied some vibrant lipstick to improve her appearance.
It was rush hour, with the sun setting and heavy traffic. The honk didn’t catch Jiang Ciyi’s attention.
Cheng Xing got out and noticed Jiang Ciyi was still absorbed in her phone.
She waved a hand in front of Jiang Ciyi’s face. Jiang Ciyi looked up, squinting against the dazzling sunset, raising a hand to shield her eyes.
The golden light cast a halo on her flawless skin. Cheng Xing took her hand. “Cold?”
“Not really,” Jiang Ciyi said, turning off her phone.
Cheng Xing’s hand was just as cold as hers. Despite the mild breeze, both of them carried a chill.
Cheng Xing didn’t dare hold her hand longer and let go, pushing her wheelchair toward the car and asking what she was looking at.
“A variety show,” Jiang Ciyi said lightly.
Once in the car, Cheng Xing turned on the heater, testing the air vent with her hand, only to find the initial air was cold.
Her fingers stiffened.
Jiang Ciyi asked, “What are you thinking about?”
Cheng Xing snapped back to reality, realizing her hand was still at the vent, frozen in place for who knows how long.
She hadn’t noticed she’d zoned out.
Seeing Jiang Ciyi brought a sense of unreality.
The system had said this was her first mission target attempt, but how could she trust it was telling the truth?
What if… this was her Nth attempt?
Was the Jiang Ciyi before her always the same?
At first, Cheng Xing saw her as an NPC. Then, she felt like a real, living person.
But now, the system was telling her Jiang Ciyi was just an NPC.
If Jiang Ciyi was fake, if everything she’d experienced these past days was fake, then… what was real?
What could she still believe in?
Looking into Jiang Ciyi’s eyes, Cheng Xing closed hers heavily, saying nothing.
When she opened them again, she’d composed herself and gave a gentle smile. “Thinking about what to eat tonight.”
Jiang Ciyi didn’t press. “Sister Zhou probably has dinner ready.”
Cheng Xing shrugged. “True, I’m overthinking again.”
A double entendre.
Jiang Ciyi didn’t call it out or pry into what Cheng Xing left unsaid.
Just as Cheng Xing hadn’t pressed her about her feud with Lu Qi.
The car fell into an eerie silence, but halfway through the drive, Cheng Xing’s emotions stabilized. She glanced at shops along the road during pauses in traffic.
Jiang Ciyi played a song.
The voice was magnetic, like a soft murmur in her ear, carrying a faint sense of storytelling.
The voice felt familiar to Cheng Xing.
She asked for the song’s name.
“Silent Me,” Jiang Ciyi replied.
The lyrics hit a poignant note—
A lonely child runs down the road,
Clumsily hiding the puzzle of the future.
Running to the end but finding no path.
The brave move forward, speaking of return only at farewell.
But I don’t know where to go.
I’m just the me abandoned by the world,
Whispering softly—silent, introverted, timid.
What do you see when you look at me?
The lyrics struck Cheng Xing’s heart.
She truly felt like the one abandoned by the world.
She listened quietly, the soft storytelling weaving a tale that sank her mood.
“Beautifully sung,” Cheng Xing said, her voice muffled. “Who’s the singer?”
“Luo Xi,” Jiang Ciyi said, glancing at Cheng Xing subtly.
Cheng Xing’s expression flickered, and she exhaled softly. “It’s her.”
“You know her?”
Cheng Xing shook her head, then nodded, not hiding anything. “She was at my grandmother’s funeral yesterday, with Dr. Qin.”
Jiang Ciyi had seen it in the documents but acted as if it were new information.
“Today, I got her autograph for a colleague and saw her again,” Cheng Xing said. “She doesn’t seem to like me.”
Jiang Ciyi thought, That’s normal.
But she didn’t say it. “Is that so? Maybe celebrities are just guarded.”
“Perhaps.” Cheng Xing smiled and kept driving. Jiang Ciyi played the song again.
Halfway through, Cheng Xing felt a pang of heartache and asked Jiang Ciyi to change it.
“Not good?” Jiang Ciyi asked.
“It’s good,” Cheng Xing said. “But it’s a bit emo. I want to be happy today.”
She didn’t want to be trapped in this heavy mood.
Jiang Ciyi switched to a lively song as requested.
On the way home, fireworks suddenly burst in the sky. Many cars stopped at the intersection to watch, horns blaring in a chaotic symphony.
But the fireworks’ sound drowned them out.
Cheng Xing looked toward the source—Jianggang’s largest amusement park.
Jiang Ciyi tilted her head to watch the fireworks. Some people by the roadside made wishes.
But they bloomed for a moment before falling mercilessly.
The fireworks faded as they left the main street.
Cheng Xing’s voice rose over the music. “Do you like fireworks?”
“They’re okay,” Jiang Ciyi said.
“Why? They’re so beautiful.”
“They fade away in the end.”
Back at Tinglan Mansion, Sister Zhou had indeed prepared a nutritious dinner.
Mid-meal, Cheng Xing pulled out her phone and opened her notes, revising Jiang Ciyi’s rehabilitation plan.
She no longer hoped Jiang Ciyi could walk normally within 40 days, but at least stand, right?
As she typed, Jiang Ciyi tapped her chopsticks on her bowl. “Eat.”
Cheng Xing turned off her screen and looked at her.
Her eyes were so gentle they seemed to brim with water, her voice soft. “Jiang Ciyi.”
“Hm?” Jiang Ciyi raised an eyebrow.
When she did, her other features stayed still, maintaining her cool expression, looking effortlessly chic.
But Cheng Xing knew this was her way of indulging her.
“A’Ci.” Cheng Xing called again.
Jiang Ciyi blinked. “Full?”
“Not yet,” Cheng Xing said. “But I’ve got something on my mind.”
“Want to talk about it?” Jiang Ciyi asked.
Cheng Xing shook her head.
Jiang Ciyi chuckled lightly. “Then what are you saying?”
Cheng Xing knew Jiang Ciyi wouldn’t press if she didn’t want to talk.
That was just who Jiang Ciyi was.
Among everyone she knew, Jiang Ciyi was the most special.
She seemed colder than anyone, but her heart was softer than most.
A heart full of exquisite sensitivity, yet scarred and battered.
How could Cheng Xing bear to let her be hurt again?
Let alone let someone like her disappear.
Looking at Cheng Xing, Jiang Ciyi’s eyes suddenly glistened with tears. She looked sad, but her face held a smile.
Jiang Ciyi wondered, Is it because of Luo Xi?
Is she feeling guilty toward a victim of bullying?
Or is it something else?
But what could make the high-and-mighty Miss Cheng of Jianggang sad?
Jiang Ciyi’s fingers curled and uncurled, finally pulling a tissue to hand to her. “Wipe.”
Cheng Xing turned away, a tear falling straight to the floor.
She still smiled. “A’Ci, my eyes are raining.”
Jiang Ciyi: […]
“If you want to tell me, I’m all ears.” Jiang Ciyi said.
After seeing the documents Xu Congshi had given her, Jiang Ciyi’s emotions were tangled.
Even though she separated the past and the present Cheng Xing in her mind, seeing Cheng Xing’s face still made her uncomfortable. So, on the drive back, she played Luo Xi’s song to test her reaction, perhaps even to torment her.
But when they got out of the car, Jiang Ciyi had a realization.
Victims of bullying spend their lives waiting for an apology, but bullies never think what they did was bullying.
When Lu Qi bullied her, she always thought it was deserved.
Did Cheng Xing think the same when she bullied Luo Xi back then?
Who told her to wear the same skirt as Su Manchun?
Who told her, poor and lowly, to attend the same school as me?
Every action becomes a reason for the aggressor.
While the bullied live in darkness, trembling with fear.
They think light will come, not knowing the other party remains unrepentant in their high position.
Jiang Ciyi shouldn’t wait for her self-reflection or confession, yet she couldn’t help but hope.
Let Cheng Xing tell her it wasn’t her doing.
The Cheng Xing she liked, the current Cheng Xing, wouldn’t do such a thing.
Jiang Ciyi liked her, wanted to possess her, yet always felt there was something between them.
Jiang Ciyi couldn’t cross it, and Cheng Xing couldn’t come through.
But how could a star who likened tears to rain be the same as someone like Lu Qi?
Jiang Ciyi’s heart was like a bottle, patched up for days, suddenly cracking open.
Cold wind rushed in, leaving her at a loss.
Jiang Ciyi asked, “What are you sad about?”
Cheng Xing had regained her composure and smiled at her from across the table. “Just thought of a sad story, so I’m a bit down.”
“What story?” Jiang Ciyi asked. “Someone getting bullied?”
“No. A sci-fi story,” Cheng Xing said.
Jiang Ciyi raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”
Cheng Xing looked outside. The night sky was like a giant umbrella, the crescent moon its white handle, countless stars scattered across the boundless heavens, but no beautiful fireworks now.
“A’Ci,” Cheng Xing asked, “do you want to see fireworks?”
Jiang Ciyi shook her head. “They’re okay.”
Cheng Xing recalled her earlier words: They fade away in the end.
But they had bloomed in the sky, hadn’t they?
She’d heard too many stories of moths to a flame, yet moths always flew toward the fire without hesitation.
“If you’re afraid of fading and don’t appreciate beauty, what’s the point of living?” Cheng Xing took her hand. “Let’s focus on the journey, not the outcome, okay?”
“What about that sci-fi story?” Jiang Ciyi asked.
“Let’s go to the amusement park to see fireworks,” Cheng Xing said. “I want to ride the Ferris wheel with you and tell you the story slowly.”