After Transmigrating into a Redemption Novel as the Evil Stepmother - Chapter 16

Speculations regarding the relationship between Ming Jiayue and Ji Shuangci were rampant online. Perhaps because Ji Shuangci had a likable image, or perhaps out of respect for Ming Jiayue’s status, netizens mostly engaged in lighthearted teasing rather than harsh criticism.

Star Teachers: Learning to Act recorded one episode per week. In the absence of other work arrangements, Ji Shuangci returned to school for classes. Her major was Energy Science and Engineering—a field completely unrelated to the entertainment industry—and her grades were top-tier.

On Friday afternoon, the company suddenly sent a car to the school to pick up Ji Shuangci, taking her directly to the Ming Corporation headquarters.

On the way, Huo Linxi sent Ji Shuangci a message, telling her that “pie from the sky” had hit her.

The newly launched “Huaxia” brand of new energy vehicles under Ming Corporation wanted her as their global spokesperson. All the details had been negotiated; Ji Shuangci only needed to go there today to sign.

The prestige of a “Global Spokesperson” is vastly different from that of a “Brand Spokesperson,” and the influence is worlds apart—especially when representing heavy industry like automobile manufacturing.

For a newcomer like Ji Shuangci, landing an endorsement of this level meant her future was truly as vast as the sea.

After sending the message, Huo Linxi put down her phone. Even though she was a woman of the world, she couldn’t help but sigh to a close friend beside her.

“The global spokesperson for Huaxia! That’s Huaxia! A brand that has never used a celebrity spokesperson! This is a resource that even big shots in the industry wouldn’t dare dream of, yet it was given to a fledgling girl just like that. I really don’t understand—what exactly is President Ming thinking?”

“If you say she wants to be close, she threw the girl to me for two years without asking a single question. If you say she doesn’t care, she drops top-tier resources on her without a second thought!”

The friend was holding her phone, watching a fan-edit of Ming Jiayue and Ji Shuangci from the previous livestream, her smile impossible to suppress.

“Who knows? Maybe this is love. The age gap, the married woman… her heart is stirred but she can’t respond, so she can only give silently, paving a brilliant, glittering path for her beloved girl.”

Huo Linxi couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“I think you’ve read too many forbidden GL novels. Your brain is warped.”

The Ming Corporation headquarters sat in the heart of H City’s CBD, towering into the clouds. Ji Shuangci stepped out of the car and looked up, quietly gazing at this giant looming in the city center.

An individual standing at its feet felt utterly microscopic.

Ji Shuangci still remembered when she first entered the entertainment circle for her first variety show; the training location was a building far less grand than this, but at night, the lights were brilliant, and the prosperity seemed endless.

Like a frog jumping out of a well to see the sky for the first time, she had felt out of place in the city that was as bright as day. Her first reaction back then was a sense of powerlessness and suffocation.

She had once overheard a few fellow trainees self-deprecatingly say:

“I really want to know what kind of person can stay here and feel like they belong. I’m too small, like dust that could be blown away by the wind at any time.”

“H City—a place that makes you want to leave the moment you arrive.”

“You might be a piece of gold, but H City is covered in gold. Gold glitters, but H City is magnificent everywhere.”

At that time, Ji Shuangci’s fear of the unknown was no less than anyone else’s. She had no friends to confide in; she simply worked in silence, patiently pushing every task that required effort to its limit every single day.

These past two years had not been the “smooth and easy” ride others claimed; sometimes, Ji Shuangci found them incredibly difficult. But undeniably, these two years made her feel like a bird that had flown out of a cage. The feeling of being able to charge forward without looking back was wonderfully addictive.

It all felt like destiny. Ji Shuangci calmly withdrew her gaze, thinking of the first web drama she appeared in, Today is Not Yesterday.

Indeed, today is not yesterday.

When the General Manager’s secretary came down to meet Ji Shuangci, he was initially somewhat dismissive. Huaxia was a vital transformation project they were pushing for the next decade. A spokesperson didn’t necessarily need to be famous, but they needed seniority and a very “upright” image.

As for Ji Shuangci, their background check suggested she was just a lucky girl chosen by President Ming—pure luck. However, during the short walk from the ground floor to the meeting room, the secretary’s attitude shifted subtly.

It wasn’t just that Ji Shuangci was composed. The secretary had seen plenty of spunky young people, but Ji Shuangci was different. She didn’t initiate small talk, yet when she did respond, she engaged in a skillful “give and take”—extracting the information she wanted while providing just enough in return.

Her expression was calm, her gaze deep. She gave off a familiar aura—one very similar to President Ming.

The secretary felt this for the first time.

Thinking of those “baseless” rumors online, the secretary felt he might have stumbled upon the truth.

Those seemingly groundless guesses might actually be the reality. This girl likely has some ‘inconvenient to disclose’ relationship with President Ming!

Ji Shuangci usually didn’t care about others’ attitudes toward her, and today was no exception. She completely failed to notice the secretary’s sudden turn toward flattery.

She took a deep breath, pushed open the meeting room door, and looked around. Ming Jiayue wasn’t there.

As expected, Ji Shuangci wasn’t disappointed.

Huo Linxi currently gave Ji Shuangci a sense of trustworthiness, but the girl still read through every document word by word, signing her name only after confirming everything was correct.

As she was leaving, there was an unexpected surprise. The other party handed her another document.

“Miss Ji, there is one last document that requires your presence for President Ming to confirm and sign. The President’s office is on the 38th floor, last door on the right. I’ll have someone take you up. We look forward to a pleasant cooperation!”

Ji Shuangci’s bright eyes stirred. She took the document and gave a slight smile.

“It’s a pleasure.”

The secretary only took Ji Shuangci to the President’s private elevator and didn’t accompany her up. Thus, Ji Shuangci was alone in the elevator.

Before exiting, Ji Shuangci observed herself carefully in the polished, mirror-like walls of the elevator.

Hair, complexion, clothing—not too bold, not too faint. Just right.

The elevator doors opened. Ji Shuangci’s heartbeat rose and fell with the incoming draft. They had met only a few days ago, yet it felt like they had been apart for a long time—so long that her happiness at seeing Ming Jiayue finally outweighed her nervousness.

She tightened her fingers one by one, then released them. After clearing her throat very softly, she stopped and knocked. The form of address she had prepared rolled over her tongue.

“Sister, are you there?”

The door wasn’t fully closed; it creaked open a crack upon contact.

There was no response. Ji Shuangci looked through the gap.

In the large, modern office decorated in shades of grey and white—cold and orderly—a familiar figure was slumped over the desk near the floor-to-ceiling window.

The hair that was usually meticulously tied back had a few loose strands hanging down.

Ji Shuangci looked closer. The posture was wrong—it looked like she was enduring something.

Her heart suddenly leaped into her throat. Her body moved faster than her logic. Ji Shuangci pushed the door wide and strode to Ming Jiayue’s side.

“President Ming?”

Ming Jiayue’s eyes were tightly shut. Her face showed a pale, desolate sickly weakness that Ji Shuangci had never seen before.

Ji Shuangci reached out to touch her forehead. It was somewhat hot.

Should she call someone else or wake her up first? Caught in a moment of panic, Ji Shuangci scrambled to pull out her phone while calling her name again.

“President Ming.”

“Sister?”

“I’m awake,” Ming Jiayue propped up her heavy eyelids, pressing down Ji Shuangci’s phone first. She looked in her direction, her pupils slightly out of focus.

“You’re here.”

“Mhm.”

Ji Shuangci bit her lower lip, her hands poised to support Ming Jiayue at any second.

“Put the document down. Once I sign it, you can take it and leave.”

Perhaps because she was too exhausted and uncomfortable, Ming Jiayue’s face was exceptionally cold. Without even glancing at Ji Shuangci, she signed her name with a broad stroke and began to dismiss her.

Ji Shuangci didn’t take the document. She watched Ming Jiayue’s complexion, slowly adjusted her breathing, and asked tentatively:

“President Ming, you’re sick. I can accompany you to the hospital.”

“You?”

Ming Jiayue’s voice was very faint. She tilted her slender, white neck back, letting her gaze linger briefly on Ji Shuangci’s calm features before speaking again.

“It’s not necessary. Miss Ji, let me remind you—it is time for you to leave.”

For a split second, it felt as if an invisible mountain had crashed down on Ji Shuangci, seemingly cutting off her breath.

However, it didn’t last long. Ming Jiayue’s body went soft, and she collapsed back into the chair.

Ji Shuangci rushed forward, holding her and about to call for the secretary.

Ming Jiayue gripped her wrist tightly, her breathing becoming labored. “Don’t call anyone. Go to the lounge inside… the first cabinet on the right side of the bed. The white bottle and the green bottle are my medicine. Bring them to me.”

Ming Jiayue’s words were starting to fragment. Ji Shuangci didn’t dare delay; she ran into the lounge to find the medicine.

There was no text on the white and green bottles. Ji Shuangci was about to leave when her eyes swept the room.

In the corner lay a stack of empty medicine bottles. All in English. Ji Shuangci picked one up to identify it. She couldn’t describe the feeling—only that the air seemed to become very thin, her breathing felt stifled, and her mind went blank.

In that stack of small bottles were several medications used to treat severe clinical depression, which had massive side effects. There was also one that Ji Shuangci had once read about in a foreign journal—a stimulant drug taken every two hours to maintain absolute wakefulness and rigorous logical thinking. Its side effect was devastating to the physical body.

Judging by the number of empty bottles, Ming Jiayue had been taking them for a long time.

The white and green bottles didn’t belong to any of those types. Ji Shuangci suppressed her complex emotions, hurried back, poured some water, and helped Ming Jiayue take the medicine.

Ming Jiayue’s breathing was short and she was running hot; her lips brushed against Ji Shuangci’s fingers several times by accident.

Her gaze deepened. Ji Shuangci suggested with calm determination, “President Ming, let me help you inside to rest.”

She truly had no strength left. Ming Jiayue felt the world spinning; her normal movement was restricted. She helplessly nodded, and the moment she hit the bed, she fell into a deep sleep.

Ji Shuangci didn’t leave. She moved a stool and sat by the bed, staring at Ming Jiayue without blinking.

Right now, in this moment, Ming Jiayue was vulnerable, and she was the strong one.

Besides worry and heartache, Ji Shuangci clearly felt a powerful emotion flowing through her body—an intense desire to possess and protect the person on the bed.

The faint scent of mint lingered in the air, used for mental stimulation.

Ji Shuangci got up to turn on the ventilation system and conveniently tossed the stimulating incense into the trash can.

Returning to the bedside, she boldly took Ming Jiayue’s hand, sliding her fingers into the gaps and interlacing them.

Ming Jiayue was very pale—the kind of pale that showed no color. Her palm was cooler than a normal person’s. Faint blue veins showed beneath the skin. As the light cast a side-glow, her hand appeared long, slender, and as luminous as fine jade.

It made one want to bury their head and press a kiss upon it.