“It’s nothing…” Zhou Yan felt somewhat dazed.
In the past, whenever he went out at night to drive for the ride-hailing service, she would always mock him with a few remarks:
“How much can you earn driving all night? Enough for a meal out?”
“You actually do such a dead-end job—when will we ever move out of this place?”
“Zhou Yan, you’re just a useless loser!”
“…”
But this time, even after Zhou Yan left the apartment and walked down the stairwell, he didn’t hear her usual stream of insults. Instead, he felt even more worried.
He had no idea what was going on with Jiang Zhixue.
But he didn’t have time to dwell on it.
He drove for the ride-hailing service together with Brother Wang, another driver who lived on the first floor.
Brother Wang owned his own car and drove for the service, but he couldn’t work twenty-four hours a day. Knowing that Zhou Yan was desperate to earn money, he lent him the car at night, splitting the earnings fifty-fifty.
Brother Wang was already waiting downstairs and had even accepted a ride request, so Zhou Yan needed to hurry down to take over the car and pick up the passenger.
Inside the rental apartment, Jiang Zhixue breathed a sigh of relief, but soon felt suffocated again.
It was the weight of this rental apartment pressing down on her.
The apartment was located on the seventh floor of an old alleyway in Haishi, accessible only by stairs, and was originally just an attic.
The landlord had converted it into a 15-square-meter loft within the attic, featuring the classic Cleaver-shaped apartment layout.
The bedroom and kitchen-dining area were separated by a wooden board. A worn-out 1.2-meter-wide bed was crammed into the space, leaving only a narrow opening about a meter wide near the foot of the bed, just enough to crawl through to sleep.
A wall of cabinets was built at the foot of the bed for storing clothes.
The outer space was divided by a cloth curtain: one half served as the bathroom and shower area, while the other half was the kitchen-dining area.
The kitchen-dining area consisted only of a narrow counter and cabinets lined against the wall, old and dilapidated.
The only window was positioned at the head of the bed.
Jiang Zhixue had to admit that the landlord was quite ingenious to come up with such an attic conversion.
This old building was already a dangerous structure, and living on this eighth-floor attic felt even more rundown, cramped, and oppressive—a depressive atmosphere hitting her in the face.
But all of this was only temporary.
Later, Zhou Yan would start his own business again, rise step by step, and a year later, he would be recognized by a wealthy family, soaring to great heights.
Jiang Zhixue sat in the spot by the bed—the same place Zhou Yan had sat earlier—staring at the rental apartment and wondering what to do.
The already cramped space was cluttered with piles of pots, pans, bowls, and utensils scattered everywhere, all unwashed and dirty.
The humid climate of Haishi had caused mold and damage, especially around the drainage areas.
The room smelled of mildew mixed with other unpleasant odors, messy and filthy.
Ever since moving into this rental apartment, she had only stayed a few days before moving into a two-bedroom apartment in a residential complex arranged for her by Han Ling.
Every time she returned, it was only to pick up clean clothes. Zhou Yan would cook, and she would eat a little.
After eating, she would scold him for making the place such a mess, then leave again.
At first, Zhou Yan kept the place tidy and clean, but as she caused more and more scenes—yelling, hitting, and smashing things—and he had to work day and night to earn money, it eventually turned into the state it was now.
It was already nine o’clock at night, too late to do much, so she decided to start by tidying up.
But first, she needed to change her clothes—what she was wearing now was not suitable for cleaning.
She rummaged through the cabinets and found that most of the contents were her dresses, high heels, and a few handbags. Although most weren’t very expensive, they were all brand-name items.
The cheapest items were worth at least a thousand or two, while the most expensive was a bag valued at thirty thousand.
There were over a dozen dresses and skirts, plus high heels and bags—around twenty items in total.
It was only then that she remembered: the original host had just begun living the life of a wealthy wife and had splurged on many luxury goods, forcing Zhou Yan to sell some of his shares.
However, all of these were considered marital assets. The expensive clothes, dresses, bags, and jewelry had been confiscated during the execution.
It was only because she was skilled at hiding things that she managed to retrieve these items.
Altogether, they were worth over two hundred thousand.
Her eyes instantly lit up.
Since she couldn’t wear these for the time being anyway, selling them would support the two of them for a while—truly a blessing in disguise.
The original host had finally done something useful.
But after rummaging through all her clothes, she couldn’t find a single item suitable to wear now.
They were either seductive evening gowns or provocative sleepwear.
The original host knew she lacked ability and was lazy, relying solely on her alluring body to keep her newly wealthy husband’s heart tied to her.
So she had bought all kinds of provocative sleepwear—if it could even be called sleepwear. It was more like lingerie.
Jiang Zhixue: "…"
In the end, she had to dig through the bottommost drawer, which was practically on the floor, and pull out one of Zhou Yan’s shirts to put on.
Only then did she realize how pitifully few clothes Zhou Yan had: a few faded T-shirts, shirts, jeans, and work pants.
If they weren’t washed promptly, he wouldn’t even have enough to change into.
As a married couple living together, their lives were like heaven and earth apart.
Jiang Zhixue couldn’t understand how the original host could so shamelessly hurl the most vicious insults at the male lead.
Even as a transmigrator, she felt a pang of guilt.
She put on one of Zhou Yan’s shirts.
Noticing a drawer next to Zhou Yan’s wardrobe, also practically on the floor, she pulled it open and found a computer, a laptop, a monitor, a tablet, and several hard drives inside.
The monitor screen was shattered, and the computer case had a large dent, deformed out of shape.
Her heart suddenly skipped a beat.
She was the one who had smashed it.
Back when their spacious new apartment was repossessed and they were forced to leave, Zhou Yan had brought these things with him.
She had gone into a frenzy, smashing everything:
"What are you doing with this junk?"
"Zhou Yan, you useless waste. Even now, you’re still clinging to this worthless trash."
"If you hadn’t been so obsessed with computers, the company wouldn’t have gone bankrupt!"
She picked up the monitor and hurled it to the ground with all her might—"Crash!"—the screen shattered.
Still unsatisfied, she snatched the computer case from his arms and slammed it onto the floor—"Bang!"—leaving a dent in the case.
At that moment, Zhou Yan’s bloodshot eyes, glistening with tears as he stared at Jiang Zhixue, were filled with heartbreak and utter despair.
Having merged with the female lead’s body and memories, Jiang Zhixue now recalled that look in Zhou Yan’s eyes and shuddered with fear.
She was terrified.
Thankfully, the original host was both malicious and ignorant—she herself would never have had the nerve to do such a thing.
Her heart ached with sympathy for the male lead.
Even though she now occupied the original host’s body, she couldn’t help but feel frustrated and disgusted by her actions.
A villainess truly lived up to her name.
The original host didn’t understand.
But the current Jiang Zhixue knew a thing or two about the plot.
Knowing that the male lead would face such a fate was because the company's future prospects were too promising, and the stakes were too high. The wealthy heirs who had partnered with Zhou Yan to start the company wanted to kick out this talented commoner and set a trap for the company.
After the company went bankrupt, it was acquired by the original wealthy heir partners and quietly began to grow, amassing wealth in silence.
They were preparing to ride the wave of AI, aiming to dominate the era in the future and become the masters of their time.
However, Zhou Yan would later learn the truth and take fierce revenge on them.
He would defeat them and replace them.
In her previous life, she had navigated the upper echelons of the financial world, so such phenomena were nothing new to her.
Naturally, she understood it all too well.
Pitiful Zhou Yan, betrayed by the partners he had trusted wholeheartedly, and at home, he was further tormented by his malicious wife.
Every word she spoke, every action she took, was like a knife stabbing into his heart—over and over, again and again.
This was what struck him the hardest, wounded him the deepest, caused him the most pain, the most despair, and the most humiliation—