Villain Strategy Rules [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 41

Before Jiang’s mother could leave, a woman suddenly barged into the hospital room. Dressed in a sharp office suit, her face was filled with anger as she immediately declared, “So you’re the one who hit my daughter? Let me make this clear—we will never settle this amicably.”

It seemed this woman was Sun Li’s mother. Her daughter had been beaten yesterday, and now she was here to stir up trouble—her intentions were obvious.

Just as Wen Zhixu was about to speak, Jiang’s mother pressed her arm and straightened her blazer before saying, “We won’t settle either.”

“Ha.” Sun’s mother scoffed as if she had heard something amusing. Pointing at Wen Zhixu, she sneered, “Get this straight—your daughter hit mine. And now you’re saying you won’t settle? What gives you the right?”

Then she revealed her true colors. “If you want me to let this go, fine—two million. Not a penny less.”

Wen Zhixu had never seen someone so shameless. She had probably rushed here for money after seeing the trending topic online. Their fight had already climbed to the top of the hot searches—no surprise, given the eye-catching headline:

“Jiang Family Heiress Bullies Classmate—Where Does That Leave Ordinary People?”

Admittedly, these reporters knew how to craft a sensational title. Though Wen Zhixu had orchestrated the online uproar, she hadn’t intended to incite class conflict.

“Auntie,” Wen Zhixu chuckled lightly, “you might want to get your facts straight. I was doing society a favor.”

Sun’s mother snorted and shut the door behind her. “Do you have proof? But I have proof that you hit my child. And it’s not just me—everyone knows. Two million to protect your precious heiress reputation? That’s a bargain.”

Sun’s mother was well aware of her daughter’s behavior at school, but so what? Was there any evidence? They couldn’t access the surveillance footage, and those who had been bullied—did they have proof? No. Some, like that girl from the countryside, probably didn’t even dare to come forward.

Pathetic. They probably didn’t even have the courage to step foot in the city.

But Wen Zhixu was different. She was the Jiang family’s heiress. If this scandal wasn’t contained quickly, it could affect their company’s stock. They couldn’t afford to ignore it.

“But I think… that’s not quite worth it.” Wen Zhixu took a bite of an apple, her gaze lifting as she frowned. Then, relaxing her expression, she added, “Tell you what—I’m not greedy. Give me a million, and I’ll buy your daughter’s reputation.”

Jiang’s mother, sitting nearby, suddenly burst into laughter. She was impressed by her daughter’s audacity—and proud. Her girl had changed, grown smarter, no longer the naive fool she once was. The way she turned the tables was something even she hadn’t expected.

That Qin Nanxi really was a good influence. She had been right about her—only a cold-faced academic like her could whip her hopeless daughter into shape.

Jiang’s mother didn’t want outsiders disturbing her daughter’s rest. Disgusted by Sun’s mother’s tantrum, she clapped her hands, and two bodyguards immediately entered to escort the woman out.

But Sun’s mother wasn’t going quietly. She struggled, insisting she would fight for her daughter’s justice. Jiang’s mother had only allowed her in to make one thing clear—bullying her daughter wasn’t an option. But it turned out her daughter didn’t need protection anymore. She could hold her own just fine.

As soon as the others left, Mother Jiang smiled. “I never expected Qin Nanxi could teach you so well. Seems opposing you back then was the wrong call. Go ahead with confidence—own up to mistakes when needed, but I won’t let my daughter suffer unjust accusations.”

Wen Zhixu: “…”

Well… this wasn’t a bad thing.

“I’ll admit any mistakes I’ve made.” Wen Zhixu took an unpeeled apple from the table for her mother, fingertips lightly brushing her palm. Then she feigned fear, saying, “Mom, I don’t want to get expelled… You’ll help me, right?”

This performance—Wen Zhixu thought she deserved an Oscar. Especially that palm-brushing gesture, perfectly selling her fragile image.

Mother Jiang ate it up. “As long as you’re not breaking laws, do what you must. I trust your judgment—you’d never cross the line.”

Wen Zhixu: “Got it. I promise.”

–

One week later,

Both Wen Zhixu and Sun Li were discharged. Furious about the incident and swayed by public opinion, the principal leaned toward protecting her niece. But constrained by Wen Zhixu’s mother’s investments, she only demanded a public apology before the entire school.

Mother Jiang refused outright. Either mutual apologies onstage, or no deal—Wen Zhixu would transfer back to her original school, and the funding would be withdrawn.

Ultimately, the principal relented, settling for written self-criticisms and a disciplinary notice from the dean.

The school wanted to bury this, but Wen Zhixu wouldn’t comply. She aimed to expose them, ensuring Qin Nanxi could openly transfer into their dorm instead of being slandered as “difficult” after voluntarily leaving.

Yet Wen Zhixu never anticipated Sun Li’s staggering stupidity. Perhaps influenced by her mother, during the disciplinary meeting, Sun Li pivoted—accusing Wen Zhixu of bullying before the whole class, vowing to press charges.

What an idiot.

Fearing backlash, the principal abruptly ended the session, sending students back to class.

At a secluded corner, Tang Mo pulled a thick stack of photocopies from her bag. “All duplicated. That classmate will be here soon.”

The girl was Zhang Lan—previously bullied into leaving. Wen Zhixu had contacted her before the fight, offering full tuition support in exchange for testifying about Sun Li’s bullying. She’d emphasized it was voluntary; funding stood regardless. But Zhang Lan had wept instantly—filled with regret and rage. She’d wanted to speak up but was threatened into silence, forced to drop out.

“When Zhang Lan arrives, shield her emotionally,” Wen Zhixu told Tang Mo, worried about triggering traumatic memories.

“Got it.” Tang Mo nodded, then pursed her lips admiringly. “You’ve changed lately—so meticulous. Not like before at all.”

Wen Zhixu: “…”

Had she slipped up? The system swore they were identical—personality shouldn’t differ this much. Besides, Jiang Qingyue was just mischievous. What sixteen-year-old isn’t playful?

“Perhaps…” Wen Zhixu rolled her eyes, pondering for a moment. “Love has made me grow.”

Tang Mo: “…”

“Take back what I just said.” Tang Mo angrily poked Wen Zhixu’s cast-covered arm—though the attack had zero impact, the insult was profound.

–

The morning reading bell rang. On Mondays, students were generally in low spirits, with at least half the class slumped over their desks. But the next moment, a commotion erupted outside, jolting awake even the drowsy students as many rushed out to see what was happening.

Soon, everyone was leaning over the railings, trying to figure out the source of the excitement.

A flurry of A4 papers fluttered down from the rooftop, carried by the wind. Drawn by the spectacle, students reached out to grab them, eager to read the contents.

The first-floor classes had the advantage—almost everyone managed to snag a copy, and the courtyard erupted in chatter.

“Holy crap, the thief is crying ‘stop thief’!”
“So Sun Li and her gang were the real bullies all along?”
“I know, I know! There was a girl named Zhang Lan in their dorm who suddenly dropped out.”
“Sun Li is related to the principal—no wonder she had the guts to accuse Jiang Qingyue of bullying her.”
“…”

The papers detailed evidence of Sun Li’s bullying, the principal’s cover-up, and even included QR codes linking to audio recordings:

The principal threatening Zhang Lan.
Sun Li mocking Zhang Lan while her friends beat her.
Sun Li’s mother extorting money from Jiang’s mother.
…

With such irrefutable proof, no one paid attention to Sun Li’s hysterical sobbing.

The principal and faculty rushed to collect the scattered papers before dragging the person responsible down from the rooftop—sharp-eyed students immediately recognized her as Zhang Lan, the girl who had supposedly “dropped out.”

Some couldn’t resist jeering:
“Isn’t that Zhang Lan?”
“I thought she went back to her hometown?”
“Damn, so it’s all true!”
“…”

Panicked, the principal ordered a teacher to haul Zhang Lan away—but Tang Mo and Wen Zhixu blocked their path, forming a human barricade.

“Principal, what’s the hurry?” Wen Zhixu said coolly. “Didn’t you always teach us to seek the truth? Or does that not apply now?”

Qin Nanxi stepped out of the office just as a stray paper fluttered against the window. She caught it, scanned the contents—and a minute later, burst out laughing. The boldness reminded her of how Wen Zhixu had pursued her.

But she had to admit, this time, it truly moved her.

Unable to lash out at Wen Zhixu, the principal lowered his voice. “Who said I’m denying anything? I just doubt the authenticity. She withdrew voluntarily—how do we know she isn’t framing Sun Li?”

“Besides, Sun Li ranks top ten in her grade, a model student. Zhang Lan barely scraped into this school and has been at the bottom of her class. Who would you believe?”

“Is that so?”

Qin Nanxi walked up to Wen Zhixu, glanced briefly at her cast, then turned to the principal. “Then what about me? I can testify too. Everything Zhang Lan said is true.”

Standing behind Qin Nanxi, Wen Zhixu smiled. She had trusted Nanxi to step forward, to protect her—and to bravely speak the truth.

The principal clearly hadn’t anticipated that the usually obedient Qin Nanxi would step forward. She regretted in her heart why she had been so greedy for investment funds to accept Wen Zhixu in the first place—otherwise none of this would have happened.

Now things had escalated to the point where her position might not even be secure if this situation continued to develop.

Upon first learning of the incident, worried about students spreading it online, she had immediately activated the signal jammer. But she had no idea when exactly it had all started.

Wen Zhixu stepped forward and grasped Qin Nanxi’s hand. “Sun Li is your niece. I don’t believe you were unaware of what your niece was doing. You said we should go by academic performance—that Sun Li had good grades while Gu Lan’s were poor, so we shouldn’t believe Gu Lan.”

“Then I’d really like to ask—between Qin Nanxi and Sun Li, who has better grades? Who should we believe now?”

The summer heat was intense, with the clamor of cicadas in the trees—this marked the first time these young girls had stood up in rebellion.