After Transmigrating into a Redemption Novel as the Evil Stepmother - Chapter 27

Friday night, Ming Family Villa.

Zhou An’an had mentioned a few days prior that she wanted to go home for dinner with Ming Jiayue over the weekend, and Ming Jiayue had agreed.

An’an ordered all her favorite dishes. When she arrived home, the last dish was just being served: sweet and sour pork ribs, snow crab salad, pufferfish broth noodles, and a plate of seasonal vegetables.

From a distance, she saw Ming Jiayue sitting at the dining table waiting for her. She must have been back for a while; she had changed into a pale purple lounge set, her long hair draped lazily behind her shoulders with bits of light dancing on the ends. She looked intellectual and gentle.

Thinking about how readily Ming Jiayue had agreed to send Ji Shuangci to Africa to film a documentary, a secret joy blossomed in An’an’s heart. She hung up her coat and immediately trotted over to the table to take her seat.

Sitting right next to Ming Jiayue, Zhou An’an tilted her head up and broke into a massive grin.

“Auntie Ming.”

“Mhm.”

The moonlight was bright tonight, the stars twinkling. The dining room window was open, letting in a breeze that carried a faint floral scent.

An’an was young and full of energy. Sitting so close to Ming Jiayue, the warmth of her body invaded the space as the wind blew. Ming Jiayue’s temple throbbed slightly, and she discreetly shifted to create a bit of distance.

“Eat first.”

“Oh.”

Zhou An’an suspected nothing; she nodded obediently, her eyes sparkling like a puppy’s as she gazed at Ming Jiayue.

The System, never one to miss a chance to stir the pot, chimed in: “If you ask me, you should just pick one of the two and give in. If you reject them both, even in another ten years, we won’t finish this mission.”

“I think Zhou An’an is pretty good. No schemes. You just coax her a little, and this puppy will wag her tail so hard it’ll break.”

Ming Jiayue: …Shut up.

System: “Suit yourself. Anyway, if we don’t finish the mission, we both kick the bucket.”

Strictly speaking, one should not talk while eating, but An’an was in high spirits today. She chatted throughout the meal—nothing urgent, just sharing her life at school, the friends she made, the places she visited, and some growing pains.

Ming Jiayue truly loved An’an. Although she had things weighing on her mind, she turned to listen patiently, nodding or answering occasionally to soothe her emotions.

To have an elder listen to one’s thoughts, calm one’s feelings, and offer appropriate advice on the journey of life—Zhou An’an felt this was an immense stroke of luck.

She was so happy that she spoke with great animation, a faint flush appearing on her nose and cheeks. She was incredibly cute.

This villa was usually quiet and empty when they weren’t home. Eating together today, the loneliness was diluted by the lively atmosphere of a shared home. Ming Jiayue felt an inexplicable sense of “home.”

She watched An’an for a long time, ultimately choosing not to expose her little crush directly. Ming Jiayue thought that perhaps she had been biased toward An’an from the start precisely for this defenseless, uncalculating warmth.

And since she had been the one by An’an’s side these past few years, if the girl had any “incorrect” thoughts, it was likely due to her own poor teaching.

Or perhaps it was just a child’s whim—easy come, easy go. One shouldn’t blame the child; just correct it in time.

Ming Jiayue kept her emotions hidden. Under her gaze, Zhou An’an blinked belatedly. Even without a word, just a look was enough to make her feel inexplicably guilty.

She closed her mouth, leaned toward Ming Jiayue, and tugged at her sleeve.

“Auntie Ming, let’s go for a walk in the garden to digest.”

Looking so piteous, Ming Jiayue didn’t want to say anything harsh. She gave a helpless smile.

“Alright. The stars are beautiful tonight; let’s go take a look.”

“Yay!”

Purple suited Ming Jiayue well; her face looked more vibrant under the garden streetlamps, vivid and beautiful. An’an couldn’t stop her gaze from drifting toward her, feeling as if a rabbit were hopping non-stop in her chest.

The breeze blew past their fingertips, making both of them feel a bit restless. An’an’s gaze was too intense for Ming Jiayue to ignore.

Previously, she could interpret it as a junior’s admiration or devotion, but now…

Even though she had divorced An’an’s father, she was once her stepmother in name. There was a twelve-year age gap, not to mention Ming Jiayue truly treated her as a junior.

This was a taboo romance that should be nipped in the bud.

After a moment’s thought, Ming Jiayue started the conversation.

“An’an, you know your father and I are divorced, but I’ve always wanted a daughter like you. So, even though the divorce happened, it doesn’t change the fact that I treat you as my own daughter.”

Ming Jiayue emphasized the word “daughter.”

An’an’s heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively looked away. She had avoided bringing up the divorce precisely because she feared Ming Jiayue would distance herself. Hearing this now, An’an felt happy on one hand, yet troubled on the other.

Happy that Ming Jiayue was still good to her, but troubled that they were still interacting as “mother and daughter.” When would her feelings ever see the light of day?

An’an lowered her head and remained silent for a long time. From Ming Jiayue’s perspective, the girl’s stray hairs were messily blown by the wind, looking quite aggrieved.

Just as Ming Jiayue was deliberating how to continue advising her, An’an suddenly looked up, her eyes looking at Ming Jiayue with determination.

“Then I choose to go with you, Auntie Ming! Let Dad leave the marriage with nothing!”

An’an’s logic was so erratic that it momentarily stunned Ming Jiayue into silence. She burst into a sudden laugh.

“Hehehe, I knew Auntie Ming was the best.”

Ming Jiayue rarely laughed. An’an loved seeing it most. Taking advantage of the situation, she linked her arm through Ming Jiayue’s and vowed:

“I never want to be apart from you.”

Ming Jiayue’s heart sank slightly, but she said nothing more.

The System’s mission required the two targets to spend ten years in a physically and mentally healthy manner. The standard for “healthy” was neither black nor white; as long as they stayed in the gray zone and reached 100% progress within ten years, it would be a success.

Under the same sky, Ji Shuangci was currently lying beneath a sacred baobab tree in Africa, resting with the documentary team.

Conditions were harsher than imagined. There was no makeup or styling for her appearances—just a bare face, work clothes, and a sun hat. At the moment, even the conditions for washing her face were barely present.

The team was small but elite. One photographer, Davin, was last year’s Hamdan International Photography Award winner. Another, Hart, was famous for taking extreme close-ups of wild animals and was known as the strongest photographer in history.

It was said he usually spent months integrating himself among fierce animals so as not to be attacked by hyenas; even sensitive elephants had gradually grown accustomed to his presence. More legendary still was a female cheetah who reportedly entrusted her cubs to him before going out to hunt.

In the whole team, aside from Ji Shuangci, her assistant, and a bodyguard, everyone else was a foreigner.

Compared to them, Ji Shuangci had the lowest presence.

The documentary director, Eric, was known for his unique aesthetic perspective and creative filming. A typical workaholic, he didn’t forget to communicate filming details with Davin even while resting.

Someone asked out of curiosity if Ji Shuangci needed a dedicated photographer and assistant.

Eric’s face immediately soured. His first impression of her wasn’t good; he liked recording natural, real people and things. Her eyes, however, looked like a sky filled with volcanic ash—gloomy and full of ambition and desire.

“What hardships can an Oriental noble lady endure? She just wants to use us to show off a noble hobby. I won’t allow her to tarnish my work.”

The implication was clear: he wouldn’t give her much screen time.

The group understood and said no more. They had heard that the investor for this documentary was very generous, which was why Eric had agreed to let someone in, but aside from that, everything followed Eric’s arrangement.

Ji Shuangci’s English was very good; she understood what they were saying, but she wasn’t in the mood to care. Let them say what they wanted.

And so, she lived as a complete outsider with the team for two months.

She rarely spoke, never troubled anyone, and aside from work requirements, never proactively socialized.

Her assistant secretly messaged Ming Jiayue: “President Ming, she has unilaterally isolated everyone.”

Ming Jiayue replied simply: “Continue observing.”

This state lasted until the team arrived in Tanzania to film the Great Migration. Wildebeests, elephant herds, giraffes…

After a brief appearance, Ji Shuangci finished her work. She sat quietly by the riverbank watching a herd of wildebeest cross. In the middle of the river were countless crocodiles waiting for a feast. One wildebeest was caught by a crocodile at the throat; just when everyone thought it was dead, it miraculously scrambled toward the opposite bank until it made it ashore.

Many were bitten; only one made it.

Ji Shuangci watched the camera footage intently, her breathing becoming heavy and her expression shifting.

Such a scene was breathtaking. A group of creatures racing a thousand miles for survival, facing countless life-and-death crises. The road to survival was winding and tortuous, while the road to death was instantaneous.

If animals could fight until the very last moment for survival, how much more so for humans?

Such simple logic had been said a thousand times by those before her, but nothing compared to witnessing it once.

On the way back, Ji Shuangci was clearly distracted, checking her phone repeatedly. She thought about what Ming Jiayue said—letting her go out and see. Was Ming Jiayue trying to teach her something?

Hart noticed her movements and proactively struck up a conversation. He actually quite liked Ji Shuangci; her looks perfectly fit his ideal model for a “Freedom” theme, but she was too cold, isolating herself from everyone.

Today, however, seemed different.

“Ji, do you want a baobab fruit?”

“Thank you. I saw you took some extra photos; could you share a few with me?”

Ji Shuangci’s eyes curved into a friendly smile.

Hart gave her the fruit with an exaggerated expression. “Of course. When you smile, I feel like I’ve been hit by Cupid.”

The atmosphere in the car lightened instantly. Hart had taken many photos. Ji Shuangci picked three to send to Ming Jiayue.

One of Mount Kilimanjaro, one of a baobab tree, and one of the wildebeest crossing the river today.

Two minutes later, Ji Shuangci tentatively sent a message:

“The scenery in Africa is beautiful and breathtaking. But next time, I want to come with you.”