Villain Strategy Rules [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 27

Rain suddenly began to fall from the sky, pelting against the car windows. Before long, darkness descended. Whenever it rained, the roads would inevitably become congested, prolonging Wen Zhixu’s journey.

Song Chaoyao sat silently in the passenger seat, gazing at the raindrops outside. Each drop hitting the glass disrupted her thoughts.

Once the traffic cleared, Wen Zhixu drove swiftly, eager to put an end to this farce—for herself and for the changed fate of Song Nuan.

“Big sister…” Song Chaoyao suddenly spoke up. “Do you really hate me?”

Wen Zhixu didn’t answer. She merely tapped the steering wheel before continuing to drive.

Hate? She wasn’t sure. With Song Nuan’s memories and emotions embedded within her, her feelings toward Song Chaoyao were complicated. Perhaps it was resentment—the kind that had festered in her mind since the day their mother died, never fading. But did she truly despise her? People often said the youngest bore no blame, yet she couldn’t bring herself to treat Song Chaoyao the same as others.

Song Chaoyao let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Why…?”

Wen Zhixu sighed. “Why can’t you understand the nature of our relationship? In ancient times, legitimate and illegitimate children were at odds. Do you think our situation is any different?”

“Why?!” Song Chaoyao suddenly shouted. “Why do you treat Chaoyao so well? What is she? A nobody, an orphan who should have spent her life as vermin in the gutters. Why do you love her? I should have destroyed her back then, locked her away in prison where no one could reach her!”

The next second, Wen Zhixu slammed on the brakes. “Get out,” she said coldly.

Song Chaoyao was stunned. “You’re telling me to get out?”

Though they weren’t far from home, the rain was pouring heavily, and the night had grown darker. Yet Song Chaoyao refused to believe her sister would do this to her.

Wen Zhixu tightened her grip on the wheel. “I thought keeping you at arm’s length would be enough. But you keep crossing the line. How do you expect me to treat you?”

“The line?” Song Chaoyao laughed, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, the line? You mean Chaoyao is your line? She’s the one you draw the line for?”

She unbuckled her seatbelt. “Fine. I get it.”

After Song Chaoyao stepped out, Wen Zhixu called the Song family driver, sending the location and arranging for her to be picked up. Song Chaoyao had already disrupted her life enough—disrespecting the person she loved meant she no longer deserved respect in return.

Wen Zhixu arrived home first. The house was crowded, filled with relatives whose names she could recall. Her grandparents sat at the head of the table, their expressions displeased—likely still angry about her dodging the arranged meeting.

Grandmother Song tapped her cane sharply. “Your father tells me you like women?”

In this world, same-s3x relationships weren’t particularly unusual. Many existed, and acceptance among families was relatively high. After all, love was about the person, not the gender.

Wen Zhixu replied simply, “Yes.”

Grandfather Song snorted, pondering for a moment before speaking. “A woman is fine. Just keep it discreet. Don’t flaunt it openly—it shouldn’t interfere with your life.”

“Grandfather.”

“Father.”

Song’s father suddenly spoke up, and the room fell silent. He said slowly, “Let Song Nuan decide her own feelings.”

“Your father never said she couldn’t make her own decision. He just told her to stay hidden and not announce it publicly, so as not to affect the other children,” Mother Song said.

“It won’t affect them,” Wen Zhixu stood up. “I can sever ties. Just announce publicly that I’ve cut all relations with the Song family. That way, whatever I do won’t reflect on you.”

“Wait.” Father Song stopped her as she turned to leave. “You must leave tomorrow and make the announcement. After that, you can go wherever you want.”

“No!”

Song Chaoyao had just entered the living room when she heard them discussing letting Wen Zhixu and Chaoyao leave together. She couldn’t allow this—absolutely not.

She was completely drenched. Her lipstick had smeared from the dripping water, her hair clung to her face, and it was impossible to tell whether the wetness on her cheeks was tears or rain. Her school uniform sleeves were still dripping, leaving her in a pitiful state.

Father Song frowned at his daughter’s disheveled appearance. “Dripping wet like this—what kind of behavior is this?”

Wen Zhixu glanced at her indifferently. She had dropped Song Chaoyao off near a bus stop—there was no way she could have gotten this soaked unless she had deliberately stood in the rain. The driver had left immediately.

Song Chaoyao looked down at herself and let out a bitter laugh. “Who cares about behavior? I’m already like this—it’s not the first time. But why are you letting Song Nuan leave? She can’t go! She can’t!”

Mother Song, worried her daughter might cause a scene in front of everyone, exchanged a glance with her sister-in-law. The two approached Song Chaoyao.

“You’re soaked,” Mother Song said gently. “Let’s not talk about anything else right now. Go change first.”

Her aunt chimed in, “Yes, you’ll catch a cold if you stay like this.” Then she snapped, “What was that driver doing? How could he let the young lady get drenched like this?”

Wen Zhixu smirked. “I was the one who left her.”

Her aunt’s face darkened in shock. “You must be out of your mind.”

Mother Song tugged at her sister-in-law’s sleeve anxiously. “Take Xiao Zhao downstairs first.”

Grandmother Song sighed. “This household is in chaos. What have you been teaching them?”

Father Song turned to Wen Zhixu. “Tomorrow is your sister’s 18th birthday. You can do whatever you want after that.”

They had already agreed—Wen Zhixu would sever ties. As long as she remained part of the Song family, she would always be under scrutiny, inviting future troubles. Father Song hadn’t shortchanged her either, granting her a lifetime’s worth of wealth and complete freedom.

But Wen Zhixu knew the truth. It wasn’t because of what they had done for him—it was because of her mother, that noble and beautiful princess, a woman whose life had been full of color.

She parted her lips slightly. “Fine. I’ll announce my departure from the Song family at that moment. All inheritance rights will go solely to Song Chaoyao.”

A sharp clink echoed through the room.

Mother Song’s bracelet slipped from her wrist, the jade shattering into four pieces as it hit the floor from the second floor. Her hands trembled as she stared at Wen Zhixu in disbelief, as if she were about to tear her apart with her bare hands.

“What did you say?” Mother Song rushed downstairs, gripping Wen Zhixu’s arm, her eyes bloodshot.

Wen Zhixu turned slightly, maintaining distance. “Aren’t you happy? I’ve given all the assets and shares to Song Chaoyao. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

But Wen Zhixu had privately discussed with Song’s father—she wouldn’t yield an inch regarding her mother’s share of the assets, yet she also wouldn’t take a single penny from the past five years.

Song’s mother, realizing her outburst, released her grip and returned to her seat in silence. Tomorrow was Song Chaoyao’s coming-of-age ceremony. With Song’s father’s promotion finalized, he planned to gift a portion of his company shares to Song Chaoyao.

That Song Nuan now claimed she wanted nothing was unexpected, but what terrified her more was the possibility of a trap. Fear had taken root in her heart.

Wen Zhixu spoke up, “I’ll take my leave. I don’t see any reason to stay.”

Grandma Song suddenly struck the floor sharply with her cane. “Tomorrow morning is your sister’s ceremony—where do you think you’re going?”

Wen Zhixu turned her back to them, stepping forward. “I’ll return by tomorrow morning.”

Grandma Song’s voice turned steely. “You are not leaving. If you walk out tonight, even if your father agreed, I’d stake my old life to stop you.”

Song Nuan was the eldest daughter. Though estranged from the family, in Grandma Song’s eyes, she remained the most important among the younger generation. She disapproved of Song’s father’s decision, but given Song Nuan’s recent attitude, the fallout would ultimately affect them all.

Wen Zhixu paused. Fine—just one night, then.

After dinner, she retreated to her old room. The maids had kept it clean over the years, though she hadn’t stayed long in ages. Stepping inside, childhood memories flooded back.

Five years ago, Song Chaoyao had arrived here—and from then on, she had left.

Her phone rang. Checking the screen, she saw it was Chaoyao calling. Unnoticed, it was already ten—her class must have ended.

“Hey, Yaoyao, done with class?” Wen Zhixu softened her voice.

A brief silence followed on the other end.

“Teacher Song… are you coming back tonight?”

“Not tonight. I’ll return once things are settled tomorrow.”

“And Song Chaoyao…?”

“She’s in her own room.”

Another pause. Then, Chaoyao’s voice came through, tinged with pleading.

“Stay away from her.”

“Of course. Now, head back—did Teacher Yang pick you up? Get some rest early, and no late-night phone scrolling!”

Chaoyao laughed lightly. “Alright. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

Hanging up, Wen Zhixu felt a slight ease in her tension. Yet the room still weighed on her. She lay on the soft bedding, but her chest felt crushed beneath an invisible boulder, her breaths shallow.

Two sharp knocks sounded at her door. She rose and opened it.

Song Chaoyao stood outside, freshly showered, clad in a black slip dress with a dangerously low neckline—one downward glance revealed too much.

Wen Zhixu frowned. “What do you want?”

Without waiting, Song Chaoyao stepped inside, shut the door, and pinned Wen Zhixu against the wall. Leaning heavily on her shoulder, she murmured, “Sis… you like women, so why can’t it be me?”

“……”

“???”

Wen Zhixu’s eyes widened in shock. Wait—had the original novel included this? Did Song Chaoyao have feelings for her own sister? Her half-sister, no less?

Hold on—this was too much to process.

Reason quickly took over. The next second, she shoved Song Chaoyao away. “You’re drunk. Get a grip.”

Song Chaoyao’s eyes burned red as she pressed against Wen Zhixu with all her strength. “I’m not drunk. I’m perfectly clear-headed. Why did you fall for Chaoyao? Why? Why couldn’t it have been me?”

Wen Zhixu tried to push her away, but Song Chao had trained in martial arts and was incredibly strong. Even using all his strength, he could only slightly adjust his position.

“System, save me!”

Host, this isn’t within control parameters. Was there ever such a plot before?

“If you don’t know, how could I possibly know?”

The door suddenly swung open. Song’s mother stood there in her silk pajamas, taking in the scene before her. Seeing her daughter bullying Song Nuan, yet thinking of all she stood to gain tomorrow, she merely advised, “Go back to your own room and stop bothering… your sister.”