Everyone Thought The Fake Heiress Had Her Reasons Ch. 1
In the desolate night, the full moon hanging in the sky resembled a massive jade disc—pure yet icy—casting moonlight between the buildings that seemed especially like frost and snow.
The wind whipped up a cloak as dark as the night, and a figure lightly touched down on the rooftop of a high-rise.
She gazed downward, where the glittering neon lights of countless homes painted a scene of utter tranquility.
Was it just an illusion? Tang Xiaoyu lowered her gaze. She was clearly chasing something, yet she had no definite target.
After a moment of contemplation, she leaped gracefully from the heights, agile as a bird and elegant as a butterfly in flight.
Her feet landed steadily on the solid ground. Tang Xiaoyu lifted her eyes to survey her surroundings. Confirming nothing was amiss, she turned to vanish back into the night. Yet, for some reason, her gaze instinctively drifted toward a nearby two-story villa.
The villa stood with its own private courtyard, where a garden full of blooming roses was intoxicating even in the dim night.
Is that where she lives now?
Tang Xiaoyu felt no emotional stir. A faint sense of disgust and aversion prompted her to leave the moment the name crossed her mind. But just as her gaze was about to shift away, the warm yellow glow from the second-floor bedroom suddenly vanished.
It was the villa’s only source of light. The moment the light disappeared, the entire building seemed shrouded in an ominous darkness, and even the moonlight turned severe.
An inexplicable tremor ran through Tang Xiaoyu’s heart. Pausing briefly, she ultimately turned toward the villa. As the hem of her clothes brushed against the rose bushes, she caught a glimpse of a swift, familiar shadow flitting past the window.
It’s him! Her pupils contracted, and though she urgently wanted to give chase, she held back.
Suppressing her instinct to pursue, she looked up at the open window on the second floor. In the darkness, the window gaped like the maw of a monster, as if ready to devour all signs of life.
·
Outside the window, the moonlight was hazy, and the fragrance of flowers was intoxicating. Inside, the furnishings were exquisite, every detail crafted for comfort. It was a perfect, cozy nest—one that made you want to lie down and never get up. Yet, the person within was in no mood to enjoy it.
Ming Jiao turned her head away, unwilling to look any longer at the familiar yet strange, stunning face reflected in the dressing mirror—even though it was her own face now.
Why did this happen? I just… just read a novel.
Her lovely, delicate features twisted into a mask of agony as she slowly bent over, covering her face with her hands. Why did I have to transmigrate?
Not long ago, waking up in an unfamiliar room, Ming Jiao had immediately sensed something was wrong. An extra set of memories—not her own—had flooded her mind. To be more precise, she had swapped bodies.
Upon closer reflection, these memories perfectly matched the plot of a novel she had read.
It was a melodramatic story about a real and a fake heiress, centered on two girls whose lives were swapped due to an accident.
The novel’s heroine was, of course, the real heiress, Tang Xiaoyu. She had lost her parents at a young age and lived with her aunt, enduring many hardships.
Later, her aunt passed away, leaving her to grow up alone and destitute. She worked odd jobs while striving to study, and despite life’s cruelties, she grew into a kind and considerate young woman.
In contrast, the fake heiress, Ming Jiao—yes, she shared the same name—had been doted on by the Ming family since childhood, never suffering a day in her life. When her true origins were revealed, she felt no remorse. Instead, she bitterly resented Tang Xiaoyu, believing her appearance had disrupted her life. She then transformed into a vicious antagonist, wreaking havoc and relentlessly persecuting all the positive characters, including Tang Xiaoyu.
Since Tang Xiaoyu’s adoptive parents had long passed away, the Ming family took her in and cared for her after bringing her home, knowing the original host had nowhere else to go. Besides, having lived together for so many years, they had developed affection for her—only to end up sheltering an ungrateful wretch.
According to the original host’s memories, the plot had clearly progressed to the point where she was spreading rumors that Tang Xiaoyu was the Ming family’s illegitimate child. This finally provoked her adoptive elder sister, Ming Wei—the eldest daughter of the Ming family and the next legitimate heir—to drive her out of the household in exasperation.
Of course, while the Ming family claimed to have cast her out, they still acted with utmost decency by arranging a place for her to live—the very house now before her eyes.
But the original host was far from satisfied and would later stir up even more trouble, ultimately bringing about her own demise.
Transmigrating into such a universally despised character, to be honest, Ming Jiao felt like hanging herself from the window right then and there.
She let out a deep sigh, only to hear a sudden strange noise from the window. The night breeze blowing in seemed to grow stronger.
Instinctively, she looked up and saw a figure standing silently beside the gently fluttering gauze curtains, as if they had appeared out of nowhere.
Ming Jiao’s heart skipped a beat. Surely, it can’t be that accurate? I was just venting—I don’t actually want to die. The heavens wouldn’t send a home-invading robber to finish me off right away, would they?
The figure took two slow steps forward. Before the lights went out, she could see it was a tall man dressed entirely in black, the lower half of his face concealed by a black mask.
In his hand, he held a long, gleaming blade. A dark mist coiled around the blade like a venomous snake poised to strike.
Something felt off—or rather, everything felt off.
Do weapons in this world come with special effects?
·
The moment she stepped through the window, Tang Xiaoyu caught the familiar scent of blood, and an invisible force tightened around her heart.
As she lifted the fallen figure from the floor, the soft, cold body slumped limply into her arms. The mingled fragrance of flowers carried on the chilly night wind intertwined with the metallic tang of blood, sending an odd shiver through her.
“Ming Jiao…”
·
In her dazed state, Ming Jiao thought she heard someone calling her name—a distant, illusory voice, as if from across a vast divide.
The wind brushing her cheeks was cold, yet it roused her sluggish senses. Sharp pain and clarity of vision converged at once.
The room was dark, the window wide open. The gauze curtains swayed gently in the breeze, and a sliver of cold moonlight, like a spotlight on a stage, fell perfectly upon the bloodstained floor.
Ming Jiao slowly shifted her gaze downward to her chest. The still-warm, damp blood had already soaked through her dress.
What a perfect composition for a murder scene. If there were a ranking for the top ten unluckiest transmigrators, I’d definitely make the list—nearly killed by a home invasion on my first day here.
A delayed, frantic voice was screaming in her mind. Beside her, a warm hand pressed against her wound—the only source of warmth guarding her cold, numb body. Resting in the crook of that person’s arm, she heard low, murmuring whispers.
Both voices were clear, but they clashed, making it impossible to discern either.
“Hold on… let me catch my breath.” Ming Jiao weakly raised a hand, making a “pause” gesture.
Huh, I’m not as weak as I thought. Two foreign forces were simultaneously at work, struggling to save this dying body.
Both sides fell silent at once.
Raising a hand to press against her temple, Ming Jiao closed her eyes slightly, her heart filled with worry. She remembered that the novel The True and False Heiresses was about wealthy family feuds, set in an urban world. So, was it scientifically plausible for the man who had just tried to kill her to wield a knife as if it had special effects?
And then there was the person beside her…
Before the thought could fully form, Ming Jiao suddenly felt the hand resting on her chest move to touch her cheek, and the scent of blood at her nose grew stronger.
As if afraid she might fall asleep, the hand’s owner patted her lightly.
The thick smell of blood mingled with the faint fragrance emanating from the person beside her, making her mind drift between confusion and sudden clarity.
Ming Jiao opened her eyes and looked up. The person sitting beside her was unmistakably a young girl, though her clothing and features were indistinct in the dim light.
Her pupils were obscured by a layer of black gauze, making it impossible to discern any emotion. Covering one’s eyes at night—wouldn’t that genuinely affect vision?
As her thoughts wandered, Ming Jiao met the gaze behind the black gauze for a moment before grabbing the girl’s slender, pale wrist. “Who… are you?”
Even a kind-hearted Samaritan wouldn’t just wander into someone else’s home.
The girl didn’t answer her question. After a moment of silence, she withdrew her hand.
Perhaps she had lost too much blood, but Ming Jiao felt an intense attachment to every source of warmth. The moment the girl pulled her hand away, Ming Jiao almost instinctively wanted to grab it again and press it against her cheek or chest.
After a brief silence, the girl’s cool, detached voice responded evasively, “The bleeding has stopped. I’ll call an ambulance for you right away.”
She paused, shifting her gaze to the phone Ming Jiao had tossed by the bedside. “Do you need to contact your family?”
Though the tone was devoid of emotion, Ming Jiao faintly sensed a complex feeling directed at her—a mix of wariness and disgust.
Did she know her… or rather, the original owner of this body?
“No need.” Ming Jiao lifted a hand to press against her wound, gritting her teeth as she mustered the strength to sit up on her own. “There’s no need for anything.”
Seemingly surprised by her sudden movement, the girl lightly steadied her shoulders before slowly rising to her feet.
Once separated from the warmth of another person, the cold night wind blowing into the room quickly stripped away Ming Jiao’s body heat. She frowned in discomfort but found it bearable.
When she looked up again, the girl had moved farther away, standing with her back to the moonlight. Ming Jiao still couldn’t make out her face clearly, but she could now see her attire.
It was a distinctive uniform in black and blue, not something one would wear in daily life. The outer layer was a cloak as dark as the night, with a strange emblem embroidered in blue thread on the chest.
The cloak, bathed in the cold glow of the moonlight, rustled and flapped in the evening breeze.
It was both beautiful and imposing.
And quite dashing, Ming Jiao thought.
Translator: Glariosa
Editor: Ruu
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