Everyone Thought The Fake Heiress Had Her Reasons Ch. 2
Tang Xiaoyu stood quietly in place. The black gauze eye mask did not add layers of obstacles to her vision in the darkness as Ming Jiao had assumed; on the contrary, it had no effect at all. Thus, she could clearly see every subtle change in Ming Jiao’s expression.
Her beauty was like a rose in full bloom, as bright and delicate as her name suggested. Even now, with her pale face and faintly colored lips, she carried the disheveled elegance of a lotus after rain—still strikingly beautiful.
Apart from a faintly furrowed brow, she showed almost no trace of pain or discomfort. This version of Ming Jiao was vastly different from the one Tang Xiaoyu knew, evoking an eerie sense of unfamiliarity.
Yet in some ways, she remained as willful as ever.
Tang Xiaoyu turned her gaze to the night outside the window, her tone indifferent. “I’m not a doctor. I can’t save you.”
Ming Jiao smiled. “Doing nothing is saving me. Otherwise, the more you do, the sooner I might die.”
Despite her weakness, her enunciation was clear, and her voice unusually calm, devoid of the deliberate softness that had always felt insincere before.
Tang Xiaoyu’s eyes flickered. This was Ming Jiao’s way of telling her not to call an ambulance or notify anyone.
·
A breeze so faint it was almost imperceptible brushed past. Amid the rustle of fabric, the girl half-knelt before her. One could imagine the intense gaze behind the black gauze eye mask fixed firmly on her. “Do you know who tried to kill you?”
“I don’t know him,” Ming Jiao said, tapping her forehead with icy fingers. “But I know he’s not an ordinary person.”
The original host’s memories held no impression of the black-clad man wielding special effects, and earlier recollections confirmed that everything was unfolding as written in the book. It was as if the world had begun to mutate only after she transmigrated.
Ming Jiao didn’t believe her butterfly wings had that much power, especially since she had done nothing yet. It seemed this world had been abnormal from the start, with many things the original host didn’t know or see, and which the book hadn’t recorded either.
Was it a coincidence that a mysterious man with supernatural powers would come to kill a villainous female supporting character? Coincidences might happen in reality, but for plot-related characters, nothing was ever coincidental.
Based on this, Ming Jiao strongly suspected that if she let this mysterious girl call an ambulance for her, the girl would vanish without a trace afterward, just like that man. She would still be left with the confusion of this unfinished murder, forced to investigate from scratch. It was better to seize the ready clues before her.
She fixed her eyes on the person in front of her. “Similarly, I don’t know you either. For you to appear so coincidentally at my home, you must be here for him, right?”
The girl pressed her thin lips together tightly. After a moment, she said, “You’re not going to the hospital, not reporting to the police, not seeking help from anyone, and not planning to inform your family.”
Her voice carried an inexplicable chill. “You don’t trust them.”
In truth, the Ming family’s integrity was quite trustworthy, as verified by the original story—for instance, their sentimentality allowed the original host to cause trouble repeatedly without serious consequences until the end.
The original host’s tragic downfall was entirely self-inflicted.
But this murder attempt was bizarre, and she wasn’t the original. So, Ming Jiao worried that before she could uncover any clues, the Ming family might detect her discrepancies and send her straight to a temple for exorcism.
Moreover, given the current state where the original host was universally despised and disliked, coupled with all the trouble she had stirred up before, the Ming family would likely assume she was up to her old tricks again. Whether anyone would even come to check on her was a question worth setting up a bet over.
Tang Xiaoyu discerned the underlying meaning in Ming Jiao’s words and felt a surge of displeasure, along with an unavoidable chill, the moment she detected Ming Jiao’s distrust toward the Ming family.
Ming Jiao seemed stumped by her question, lowering her eyelashes and displaying an uncharacteristic, indescribable stillness.
“Right now, I truly only trust you.”
Tang Xiaoyu was taken aback, a profound sense of absurdity suddenly washing over her. If Ming Jiao could see her face clearly and knew who she was, she would realize just how ridiculous her own words were.
And indeed, Tang Xiaoyu smiled—a faint, cold curve of her thin lips, like frost settling on snow, tinged with a hint of mockery.
“You saved me,” Ming Jiao said wearily, her eyes slightly closed, her tone utterly casual, as if she were discussing something utterly mundane. “I’m a complete failure as a person. The number of people who want me dead must be countless. Perhaps you’re the only one willing to save me.”
If killing weren’t against the law, given the original host’s behavior, it would be a miracle if she hadn’t died a thousand times over.
Perhaps only this girl, who seemed like a Helpful Passerby, would lend her a hand—though she had wondered if this might be an acquaintance, none of the original host’s memories matched the person before her.
Tang Xiaoyu’s heart inexplicably trembled. For a moment, she couldn’t tell whether Ming Jiao was genuinely self-deprecating or just spouting nonsense. “You want me to stay and protect you.”
“Although it’s shameless of me to admit it so bluntly,” Ming Jiao lazily leaned back, trying to find a more comfortable position. Apart from her hand pressed against her chest and her slower speech, she showed almost no signs of abnormality, as if she hadn’t just been stabbed not long ago.
“But I really have no other options. If that killer finds out I’m still alive, they’ll probably come back. Waiting for them here might be better than searching for a needle in a haystack.”
“You can refuse me,” she added, opening her eyes to look at the person before her. “I saw it—the hand you pressed against my wound was glowing. What was that? Magic?”
As she finished speaking, she sensed something sharper stirring behind the black veil of the eye mask, a gaze that was both scrutinizing and piercing.
Tang Xiaoyu remained silent for a moment. “It’s a special ability.”
Her original plan had indeed been to leave once Ming Jiao was settled, but now her intentions had unavoidably shifted.
Ming Jiao had judged one thing correctly: in certain situations, waiting for the prey to return was indeed easier than searching aimlessly.
Though she didn’t know how Ming Jiao had attracted the attention of a hunter, given his style, if he knew his target was still alive, he would undoubtedly return for a second attempt.
Moreover, Ming Jiao’s behavior tonight had suddenly overturned all the preconceived notions Tang Xiaoyu had held about her. It was as if everything she had seen of her before had been one-sided.
Tang Xiaoyu suspected that Ming Jiao might also have a hidden identity and wondered if there were lies woven into their conversation. But after all her thoughts settled, she simply said, “I will protect your safety until we catch him.”
Ming Jiao’s slightly furrowed brow suddenly relaxed, revealing a sense of relief, as if she truly trusted her as she claimed. Then, she lifted her gaze to meet Tang Xiaoyu’s.
When her peach-blossom eyes focused intently on someone, they seemed to naturally carry a depth of emotion. Tonight, she had been looking at Tang Xiaoyu that way all along.
But Tang Xiaoyu understood clearly that all of this was like flowers in a mirror—beautiful yet illusory reflections.
·
Hearing the girl’s assurance, Ming Jiao truly felt a wave of relief. This transmigration journey, which had been shrouded in eerie gray mist and fraught with danger from the very beginning, had left her utterly exhausted.
She lowered her eyelashes, wanting only to close her eyes and rest for a while, to recuperate her energy. The wound had long stopped bleeding and was even steadily healing, but the lost blood and vitality wouldn’t recover so quickly.
She could sense the person before her scrutinizing her with her gaze again. She was always scrutinizing her, as if trying to see right through her.
The room fell quiet once more, but the unexpected warmth and fragrance drew close again.
Ming Jiao opened her eyes in surprise. “You…”
The girl merely reached out, wrapped an arm around her back and another under her knees, then lifted her horizontally from the ground.
It wasn’t until the other person bent down and placed her on the soft, large bed that Ming Jiao snapped out of her daze.
The moment she was set down, the girl’s movements were gentle. They were so close that Ming Jiao could almost hear her heartbeat.
Yet, even at such close proximity, she still couldn’t see through the thin eye mask to glimpse the girl’s eyes. Still, she was undeniably beautiful—her skin as delicate as fine porcelain, her red lips slightly pursed, exuding a captivating charm whether she smiled or not. Yet, there was an extreme coldness about her, one that made one’s heart ache and yearn to conquer.
No matter how she looked, Ming Jiao felt this face carried an inexplicable sense of unfamiliarity. It didn’t seem to match anyone she had expected—neither someone familiar to the original owner nor someone she might have offended.
Could she truly be a stranger encountered by chance? Were those mixed emotions of icy disdain merely her oversensitive, baseless assumptions about an ice-cold beauty?
With that thought, Ming Jiao relaxed a little more. Subconsciously, she reached out and tugged at the sleeve of the girl, who had already straightened up and turned to leave. “Thank you… for tonight.”
·
Hearing the words “thank you” from Ming Jiao was always particularly rare, and for her, it carried an even more unbelievable, miraculous weight. But this time, Tang Xiaoyu felt no trace of sarcasm rise within her. She merely gently withdrew her sleeve. “We each have our own needs, that’s all.”
Ming Jiao needed protection, and she needed to capture the hunter.
·
The soft, large bed stirred all her drowsiness. Ming Jiao slowly closed her heavy eyelids but didn’t fall asleep just yet.
Listening as the door opened and closed, and the sound of footsteps gradually faded away, she finally spoke to the voice in her head that had remained silent for a long time. “You can speak now.”
“I suppose you must be the legendary System.”
Translator: Glariosa
Editor: Ruu
Please support us on Ko-Fi.
