After Transmigrating into a Redemption Novel as the Evil Stepmother - Chapter 9

Ji Shuangci repeated her words. In an instant, her aura underwent a cataclysmic transformation.

She was no longer shallowly timid or cringing; with the same face, she seemed like an entirely different person.

Beautiful, dazzling, and ambitious.

Ming Jiayue gazed at her, her eyes narrowing. The lady’s cigarette between her fingers was nearly burnt out in the wind; she took a final drag, exhaled gently, and followed the smoke with her eyes before suddenly breaking into laughter.

“Hahahahahaha!”

The car window was open a third of the way. The driver nearby heard Ming Jiayue’s laughter and couldn’t help but cast a curious glance. After all, in his memory, Ming Jiayue rarely laughed out loud in public.

Ji Shuangci’s fingertips twitched. She felt a surge of panic but fought to maintain her surface composure.

Since that night, Ming Jiayue had changed.

The superficial layers had peeled away, leaving only a deep, cool temperament that was impossible to read.

“Ji Shuangci, I once raised a cat. You are very much like that cat.”

Ming Jiayue turned to discard the cigarette and said nothing more. She stepped into the car, leaving not even a stray glance behind.

Ji Shuangci stood there for a long time with her head bowed. When she looked up, the sky had suddenly turned late. The sunset was framed against the rolling mountains like a vast, burning display of daylight fireworks.

Pursing her lips, Ji Shuangci expressionlessly took out her phone, opened her chat with Ming Jiayue, sent a few messages, then locked the screen and walked back to the classroom.

Back in the car, a trace of a smile still lingered in the corners of Ming Jiayue’s eyes.

The driver, Wang Lin, was a veteran at Ming Jiayue’s side. He glanced in the rearview mirror at Ming Jiayue, who seemed to be in a good mood, and asked impulsively:

“President Ming, did something good happen? You seem so happy.”

Ming Jiayue paused for a moment before speaking.

“I just thought of a cat I used to have.”

It was a pure white kitten. On a night of torrential rain, Ming Jiayue had picked up its dying body and brought it home.

At first, it seemed harmless—frail, pitiful, quietly licking goat’s milk from a saucer.

But as it grew, its fangs lengthened and its claws became sharp.

The kitten began to scratch and bite.

Even Ming Jiayue, if she wasn’t careful, would find her hands bleeding.

Despite that, Ming Jiayue liked the cat very much. Someone busybody had once asked why she didn’t send it away and get a good-tempered purebred instead.

Ming Jiayue had only smiled. “Its bad temper was indulged by me.”

At 10:00 PM, Ji Shuangci’s evening self-study ended.

Uncharacteristically, she didn’t leave. she stayed in the classroom to continue solving problems until she was the only one left. Only Ji Shuangci knew how low her learning efficiency was tonight.

A single test paper took her the entire evening, and she hadn’t finished it.

Thinking of the messages she had sent, her mind was a mess. She confirmed once more that she was alone before taking out her phone. The glowing screen displayed unread messages from the contact labeled “President Ming.”

Her heart tightened with uncontrollable nerves. Her blood flow quickened and her pores dilated; on a cool summer night, fine beads of sweat appeared on the tip of Ji Shuangci’s nose.

Her hand, however, was exceptionally steady. She swiped to unlock and clicked into WeChat.

Ming Jiayue’s reply was very blunt: “If you want me to be your benefactor, then let me see your value. Saturday morning, 9:00 AM.”

Attached was an address: No. 2 Jingyuan, Muyun Road.

The implication was self-evident.

Ji Shuangci searched Baidu; Jingyuan’s housing prices were 500,000 per square meter, second only to the 560,000 of the Ming Palace.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. In her eyes, shame and anticipation intertwined repeatedly. However, the internal struggle didn’t last long; Ji Shuangci’s gaze became resolute.

She was indeed not some delicate, helpless little white flower. She had had enough of exhausting all her strength every day to fight hunger, to fight various hardships, and to live a suppressed, impoverished life.

She was tempted. She wanted to step onto that shortcut she had once despised.

On that first night, she had truly felt fear and disgust, even if she used hypocritical resistance to maximize her interests.

But Ming Jiayue had changed.

Ji Shuangci thought she was going crazy. Knowing it might be a false “suspension bridge effect,” she still indulged in the illusion of being loved.

At least, the moment the light shone on her was real.

And what Ji Shuangci needed to do was keep her—to permanently hold onto this beam of light that might only be pitying her temporarily.

For the next few days, Ji Shuangci went through her classes and practice problems as usual.

On Friday night, Ji Shuangci suffered from insomnia. Tossing and turning, she finally fell into a heavy, dazed sleep and began to dream.

In the dream, she returned to Ming Jiayue’s villa, to her bedroom. That pile of strange items was still on the bed.

Except in the dream, she and Ming Jiayue had swapped roles.

The high-and-mighty President Ming was bound to the bed, her eyes shimmering with tears. Ji Shuangci smiled wickedly as she used one item after another, admiring how her body tightened in bursts, listening to her breath gradually grow winding and jagged.

In the enclosed space under the dim yellow light, Ji Shuangci leaned down with a smile, sliding a finger between her teeth while her lips pressed against her ear.

“Be good. I want to hear your voice.”

The sky was just beginning to brighten when Ji Shuangci woke up with a start from the dream. Her blurred eyes gradually cleared. She restlessly touched her cheek; a lingering, scalding warmth remained.

She got up and out of bed.

Ji Shuangci took a quick shower, her mind more chaotic than ever. Confusion, alarm, embarrassment…

A multitude of emotions churned together like boiling water bubbling over, leaving her at a loss. After an unknown amount of time, Ji Shuangci suddenly realized that she didn’t seem to feel any revulsion at all; on the contrary, her body had given a much more honest reaction.

With her head in a whirl, Ji Shuangci changed through several outfits before finally heading out.

Half-tied hair, a white T-shirt, straight-leg pants—simple, youthful, and very student-like.

The person who came to pick her up was an assistant she hadn’t seen before. She led Ji Shuangci into Jingyuan, brought her to a door, signaled for her to enter on her own, and then left.

The surroundings were silent. The pure European-style decoration gave it a cinematic feel.

Ji Shuangci stood at the door for a minute before raising her hand to knock.

Correct and proper, she knocked three times. No one answered.

Ji Shuangci called out, “President Ming, are you there?”

Still, there was no response.

Her hand landed on the doorknob. With a gentle twist, Ji Shuangci pushed the door open and entered.

To her surprise, it was a study. The two walls facing the garden featured arched glass window designs. Through the deep greenery, light and shadow slowly tinted this small world.

Retro bookshelves were arranged in a certain pattern, and the collection was so rich it rivaled a small library. As Ji Shuangci walked through, she had the fleeting illusion that she had traveled into the world of Hogwarts.

On the side by the window sat a cream-colored straight sofa. Ming Jiayue was lying on her side, several books scattered by her hand, seemingly asleep.

Ji Shuangci tiptoed over. When she saw the titles of those books, her gaze became a bit strange.

Adolescent Psychology, Accompanying Your Child Through Three Years of High School, The Art of Communication.

In sleep, the coldness of Ming Jiayue’s natural authority faded. Driven by some ghost of an impulse, Ji Shuangci didn’t wake her but instead walked to the side of the sofa to observe her up close.

Ming Jiayue’s skin was very white, yet lacked a healthy glow. This made the ink-black of her brows and the red on her lips stand out exceptionally, like crushed flower juice—a fragile kind of coldness.

Ji Shuangci gazed at her quietly. The dream from last night surfaced in her mind without reason. It was clearly a face of restraint and abstinence, yet it could possess such a… soul-hooking expression.

The daylight was bright. There were two obvious dark circles under Ming Jiayue’s eyes, as if she hadn’t slept well for a long time.

As if possessed, Ji Shuangci reached out her hand. Just as her fingertips were about to descend, a voice startled her awake.

“What are you doing?”

The voice was slightly hoarse.

Caught staring, Ji Shuangci’s head buzzed. She pulled her hand back in embarrassment, her gaze meeting Ming Jiayue’s before quickly darting away. She pretended to be calm as she picked up a scattered book.

“President Ming, I didn’t want to wake you, so I took it upon myself to come over and tidy these books. I’m sorry for waking you.”

Taking in all of her embarrassment, a thin smile appeared in Ming Jiayue’s eyes. She waved her hand dismissively.

“Since you’re here, let’s begin.”

“Ah.”

Ji Shuangci let out a small “ah,” her ears turning red instantly. Suppressing her full-body discomfort, she asked uncertainly once more:

“Right here?”

Ji Shuangci was still a student; places like libraries held a natural, inviolable sense of sanctity in her heart. To do that kind of thing here in broad daylight… she felt an unspeakable awkwardness and sense of guilt.

Ming Jiayue sat up, her tone calm.

“Mhm. Right here.”