In the living room of the Sheng family villa, the crystal chandelier cast a bright glow over the floor.
Ji Mingyu sat upright on the sofa, her back straight, a perfectly measured, demure smile on her lips as she listened to the two women beside her spar back and forth.
“I just adore your Mingyu,” Huang Huixin said, holding Su Wanyun’s hand with the warmth of an old friend. “So clever, so beautiful, and so filial too. Wanyun, you’re truly blessed.”
Su Wanyun smiled gently. “Not as blessed as you. I hear Tianqi’s latest project has brought Shengshi Group quite a handsome profit? None of our children can compare to Tianqi.”
Huang Huixin couldn’t hide the smugness in her eyes, though she still offered a few modest words before pivoting: “Tianqi is doing well, but he’s still missing something. You know what they say—start a family, then a career. He’s done rather nicely on the career front, so all that’s left is an excellent partner.”
Su Wanyun caught her meaning immediately, her tone laced with casual boasting: “Oh, then you’d better hurry—excellent young women are hard to come by. Speaking of which, my Mingyu is already a professor in the Chinese Literature Department at Nanda University.”
“Oh my!” Huang Huixin’s eyes widened in feigned surprise. “What wonderful news! Wanyun, your Mingyu is truly following in her mother’s footsteps. Before long, we’ll have a Professor Ji on our hands.”
“It’s not that easy,” Su Wanyun said, waving her hand, though her smile deepened.
Huang Huixin seized the opening: “The old master’s birthday is in a couple of days. Bring Mingyu along, and let the two young people spend some time together.”
Su Wanyun nodded with a smile.
Ji Mingyu maintained her gracious smile while mentally planning where to shop later, what style of dress to buy, and when to book a makeup artist.
Suddenly—
A violent wave of dizziness struck without warning.
It was as if a bomb had detonated inside her brain, its fragments—dense with text and images—flooding into every corner of her mind.
The living room before her began to warp and double. Huang Huixin’s smiling face and Su Wanyun’s profile overlapped, then split apart.
She saw it.
A book.
She, Ji Mingyu, was the vicious younger sister of the novel’s female lead—the fake heiress whose identity would ultimately be exposed.
Her mother, Su Wanyun, was the wicked stepmother—the woman who had cuckolded Ji Zhiyuan, chairman of the Ji Corporation.
Meanwhile, Ji Mingyue, who had been living in Jianghai City all along, was the Ji family’s one and only true daughter—the genuine, kind-hearted female lead of the book.
And she, Ji Mingyu, the fake heiress of the Ji family, had no idea what tricks her mother had used to convince Ji Zhiyuan that she was his own child.
She saw how, after Ji Mingyue returned, she herself had seemed to lose her mind—scheming against Ji Mingyue at every turn, until her identity was exposed and she and her mother, Su Wanyun, were thrown out of the Ji family.
And the one who had joined Ji Mingyue in taking her down was Sheng Tianqi—the very man she was being considered for in this arranged marriage, the female lead’s destined match. The male lead, in other words.
As for her? From beginning to end, she was nothing but a laughable pawn in the male and female leads’ flirtatious push-and-pull—an excuse to push their romance forward.
Just as Ji Mingyu tried to probe further, the images cut off abruptly.
The dizziness faded.
In the living room, a servant was pouring tea for Su Wanyun and Huang Huixin, and for a moment no one noticed the flash of pallor on her face.
Ji Mingyu lowered her eyes, her hands clenched tight, nails digging hard into her palms.
A sharp pang of pain brought Ji Mingyu out of her daze.
A fake heiress?
And not just any fake heiress—one who would eventually be exposed and driven out of the Ji family. The book had only mentioned that she and her mother were cast out of the Ji household, but the ending surely wouldn’t have been a pretty one.
She slowly lifted her eyelids, her gaze moving from Huang Huixin’s smiling face to Su Wanyun’s elegant profile.
Her mother, Su Wanyun—an associate professor of history who had schemed her way through life. Could she really have been defeated so easily?
Su Wanyun rose to her feet. “Huixin, sorry to intrude today. Mingyu and I will head back now—we have classes at the university this afternoon, so we won’t stay any longer.”
Ji Mingyu looked up, her face still wearing that sweet, obedient smile—perhaps even more sincere than before.
“Thank you for having me, Auntie Huang,” she said softly.
Huang Huixin waved a hand with a smile. “What’s there to thank? Come by often.”
Come often. Oh, she certainly would be coming often.
She had no intention of giving up this marriage alliance with the Sheng family.
After all, if her identity really was exposed, the Sheng family would be her umbrella—protection that would keep the Ji family from moving against her too easily.
Besides, nothing said the alliance had to be with Sheng Tianqi specifically. He wasn’t the only unmarried person in the Sheng family.
Of course, the Ji family had more than one daughter too. She’d have to move fast. Once she married into the Sheng family, who knew what tricks the female lead and male lead would have to pull off just to get married?
After all, two sisters marrying into the same family—that wouldn’t look good at all.
Since she, Ji Mingyu, had transmigrated into this world and knew the contents of the book, there was no way she was going to be cannon fodder.
The Maybach glided smoothly along the elevated highway, the interior filled with a faint scent of aromatherapy. Ji Mingyu leaned against the window, her mind still churning over everything that had just happened.
Su Wanyun turned her head, her tone gentle but probing:
“Mingyu, I’m not forcing you. It’s just that the Sheng family really is a rare catch. Their household is clean and quiet—none of that messy business.”
In families like theirs, so many households had one wife at home and several mistresses outside, with piles of illegitimate children.
Ji Mingyu looked at her mother.
This woman, written in the original novel as a vicious stepmother—a schemer who, in the end, was driven out of the Ji family alongside her, reduced to a miserable ending.
Yet the person sitting before her now was just a mother carefully planning her daughter’s future.
No matter how others wrote her, no matter what crimes the original novel pinned on her—
She was going to protect Su Wanyun with everything she had.
With that thought, Ji Mingyu suddenly reached out and looped her arm through Su Wanyun’s, resting her head lightly on her shoulder.
“Mommy, I love you so much.”
Her voice was soft, like a child acting coquettish.
Su Wanyun froze for a moment, then couldn’t hide the smile spreading across her face.
“Is it that you don’t want the arranged marriage? Or is it that you don’t like Sheng Tianqi?” She patted her daughter’s hand, her tone immediately softening. “It’s alright. I’ll talk to your father when we get home. We’ll choose again.”
Her daughter was so outstanding—as if there’d ever be a shortage of good families.
Ji Mingyu lifted her head, her eyes clear and steady. “The Sheng family is wonderful. But I don’t want to marry Sheng Tianqi.”
Su Wanyun was taken aback.
“If not Sheng Tianqi, then who?”
The moment the words left her mouth, a thought flashed through her mind, and her eyes widened slightly.
“Don’t tell me… you like the Sheng family’s second son?”
She lowered her voice, disbelief creeping into her tone. “Sheng Xiuwen? Sheng Tianqi’s uncle? When did you two ever cross paths?”
Cross paths? What cross paths?
She chose Sheng Xiuwen because he was one of only two unmarried men in the Sheng family—and what’s more, he held the real power of Shengshi Group.
That’s right. The president of Shengshi Group wasn’t Sheng Tianqi’s father, Sheng Xiuwu, nor was it Sheng Tianqi, who had only just joined a branch company. It was this Sheng Xiuwen, a character barely mentioned in the book.