Everyone Thought The Fake Heiress Had Her Reasons Ch. 22
“I have a studio under my management. It doesn’t require my daily supervision, but it wouldn’t be appropriate if I didn’t show up for months. So I want to drop by occasionally,” Ming Jiao said.
Tang Xiaoyu was somewhat puzzled. “Do you think the hunter will ambush you on your way to and from work?”
Ming Jiao waved her hand lazily. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve thought this through carefully. The hunter doesn’t know me well, but his employer understands exactly what kind of person I am.”
She continued, “I’ve cut ties with my family now—I’m no longer the wealthy young lady from a prominent family. Although the studio was initially created more as a hobby, it’s now the only resource I can grasp and my path to advancement.”
“So whether I want to achieve something with it to prove others wrong about underestimating me, or continue working hard to succeed and eventually retaliate against my family—in his eyes, both are reasonable motivations. Even at the risk of being killed, I would still do this.”
“Once he thinks this way, my visits to the studio won’t be seen as a trap to lure him out. Instead, he’ll be more eager to eliminate me. Because in his eyes, I won’t succeed—I’ll only become a laughingstock. Yet I still bear the title of his fiancée. If I’m ridiculed, he won’t be spared either. So I plan to go to the studio during the day and return to the bookstore at night, creating opportunities for them to make a move.”
Tang Xiaoyu remained silent throughout, her lowered eyelashes concealing any discernible emotion.
Not only would Xie Chu think this way—without their recent time together, she would have drawn the same conclusions about her.
She slowly raised her head to look at Ming Jiao, suddenly feeling that the current her and the past her were contradictory and incomprehensible. The question that had surfaced multiple times floated in her mind once more.
Why would someone so clear-headed and meticulous have done such shallow and foolish things in the past? If she claimed to be unaware, that was impossible. If she truly wanted to, she could have acted more discreetly and subtly.
If she did it intentionally… Tang Xiaoyu’s gaze flickered. Then why?
She instinctively reached to touch the silver button in her coat pocket but ultimately didn’t move.
Something was on the verge of revelation, yet it still lacked the crucial link that could connect everything.
Ming Jiao, under her prolonged gaze, finally grew somewhat uncomfortable. She secretly asked the System, [What’s wrong with her? Is she stunned by my shameless admission that I’ve cut ties with my family without any embarrassment?]
She sighed wistfully, [Life is so hard. I feel like her impression of me has worsened even more.]
The System felt its host had misinterpreted the situation. [Host, perhaps the protagonist thinks you were a big fool before, but now you’re too clever.]
[This is what you call clever? Your standards for intelligent people are way too low,] Ming Jiao retorted.
“Very well. If you go to the studio, I’ll protect you from the shadows. But if I’m investigating and can’t return in time, you must stay at the bookstore during the day,” Tang Xiaoyu finally spoke.
Ming Jiao understood—she would act as her bodyguard during the day to ensure her safety, then transform into a detective at night to continue the investigation.
But that wasn’t her original intention. “It’s fine if you investigate during the day. I’ll be prepared this time and will run if needed. Besides, I haven’t used the bottle you gave me last time. I can buy time however necessary until you arrive.”
Moreover, she still had the System—her Pikachu. A 100,000-volt thunderbolt would turn the hunter to ashes in minutes—he wasn’t a god, after all.
Of course, this was an exaggerated statement—she wouldn’t actually let the System electrocute the killer to death.
She had thought it through well, but Tang Xiaoyu had her own concerns. “That’s only for emergencies. It can’t fully guarantee your safety. Besides, hunters are cunning by nature. If they sense something’s wrong, they might flee before you even realize it. Even if you have the ability to protect yourself, there’s no guarantee you could capture them.”
Moreover, she didn’t believe Ming Jiao had the ability to protect herself in the first place.
Ming Jiao felt she might still have a chance to catch the killer, but she couldn’t explain how. After a moment’s thought, she agreed to Tang Xiaoyu’s arrangement.
If the killer was smart enough to walk into the trap within the next few days, it would be a win-win. If he was foolish and took his time, she could persuade Tang Xiaoyu to investigate later, and by then, she’d probably agree to it.
With that, the conversation seemed to reach its end.
The room gradually grew quiet, so silent that even the faint rustle of the wind outside became clearly audible.
Ming Jiao couldn’t help wondering if she had misjudged the situation. Perhaps Tang Xiaoyu, despite her suspicions and discoveries, wasn’t in a hurry to test her just yet.
Just as she was about to suggest they call it a night, Tang Xiaoyu spoke abruptly, “I went to the Rose Garden tonight.”
Ming Jiao was taken aback, then almost laughed in disbelief. So direct?
She looked up and asked matter-of-factly, “What did you go back for?”
Tang Xiaoyu’s porcelain-like skin, even under the warm yellow glow of the light, seemed to carry a faint chill. Her gaze was complex yet intensely focused as she watched Ming Jiao. “I’d left something behind and went to retrieve it on my way back. Unexpectedly, I noticed someone lurking nearby, apparently trying to keep watch on you. Later, someone sneaked into the building—into your bedroom.”
“I thought they were looking for something, but it turned out they were leaving something behind.”
This development was something Ming Jiao hadn’t anticipated—and neither had the System. It had been monitoring the Rose Garden all along; no one could move without its notice. So it knew nothing like this had actually happened.
“Who would’ve thought even someone like the female lead, who seems incapable of lying, would deceive people.”
Ming Jiao wasn’t entirely convinced it was a lie. She kept her eyes on Tang Xiaoyu. “What was it?”
Tang Xiaoyu produced the silver button and placed it in front of her.
Before Ming Jiao could even reach for it, the System exclaimed, 【It’s a listening device! Wow, this is a rare, expensive model—not something ordinary people can easily get their hands on.】
Ming Jiao herself couldn’t help showing surprise.
Tang Xiaoyu studied her intently. “As far as I know, this is a type of listening device. You recognize it too, don’t you?”
Ming Jiao thought, Isn’t it because a certain System just shouted an explanation in my ear? But she could only nod in acknowledgment.
However, she was well aware that this silver button couldn’t possibly have been discovered in her room at the Rose Garden. Yet, Tang Xiaoyu had no reason to test her with something unrelated.
That meant this silver button must be connected to her in some way.
Where had Tang Xiaoyu gone tonight to uncover this clue—something related to her but too sensitive to ask about directly?
The Ming family.
Ming Jiao’s thoughts raced, and soon, understanding dawned. She pieced together the sequence of events.
Tang Xiaoyu must have returned to the Ming residence tonight. By some twist of fate, she’d discovered the silver button in a place connected to Ming Jiao, which prompted her to go back to the Rose Garden and check the room Ming Jiao had previously occupied—to see if listening devices had been planted there as well.
But if it was a common area in the Ming residence, Tang Xiaoyu wouldn’t have immediately assumed Ming Jiao was under surveillance. It had to be a private space—like her bedroom.
For now, there was no need to dwell on why Tang Xiaoyu had gone to her bedroom—perhaps it was some coincidence she wasn’t aware of, or perhaps a servant had inadvertently discovered something while cleaning and passed it on to her.
But in any case, Tang Xiaoyu had discovered that she was being monitored but couldn’t ask directly, which was why she attributed these discoveries made in the Ming family to the Rose Garden.
This explained everything.
She relayed this analysis to the System, which first seemed bewildered, then horrified. [It must be like this. But to plant a listening device in your former bedroom… Could it be Aunt again?]
Ming Jiao’s tone was equally grave. [Most likely her.]
The Ming family, as an affluent and influential household, would have long been devoured if they lacked even the basic ability to maintain security, allowing outsiders to plant listening devices in their home.
So it had to be an insider—or perhaps an insider who had been bribed, such as a household servant.
The System sighed. [I used to think you were overestimating how dangerous she was, but it turns out she’s even more formidable than we imagined.]
Ming Jiao also felt a chill run through her, much like the shudder she experienced when recalling how Aunt had urged her to spread rumors about Tang Xiaoyu.
When had the listening device been planted—before Tang Xiaoyu returned or after?
Ming Jiao couldn’t help but ponder. Looking back now, it seemed that although Aunt had always been restless, her methods had only started becoming more aggressive in the last year or two.
But her increasing aggression probably had nothing to do with Tang Xiaoyu’s return.
There was no conflict of interest between them, nor any past or recent grievances.
So even without the matter of the real and fake heiresses, Aunt would likely have used her to stir up trouble in some other way.
Something must have happened to Aunt—something they weren’t aware of—that was the real catalyst driving her to cause trouble.
But for now, Ming Jiao had no leads.
Tang Xiaoyu had been observing her. She looked surprised but not confused, as if she hadn’t expected someone to plant a listening device in her bedroom, yet once she found out, she immediately had a suspect in mind—even seemed certain it was that person.
She asked calmly, “Do you think this has something to do with Xie Chu?”
Ming Jiao felt conflicted. This was an unexpected development. Although she had long wanted an opportunity to reveal Aunt’s true nature to Tang Xiaoyu, the timing now was premature.
After all, everything was still speculative, with no concrete evidence. This was also why she hadn’t immediately asked Shi Yan to investigate Aunt on the day of the banquet.
In everyone’s eyes, her reputation was actually worse than Aunt’s. On the surface, aside from favoring her non-biological niece, Aunt had never done anything particularly reckless.
So if she had directly claimed at the banquet that Aunt was manipulating her, harboring ill intentions, and urging her to spread rumors about Tang Xiaoyu, Shi Yan wouldn’t have believed her. On the contrary, she would have been deeply disappointed.
Shi Yan might have thought she was trying to clear her own name, going so far as to slander the aunt who doted on her just to return to the Ming family.
If this was how she was perceived by her former friends, how much credibility did she have with Tang Xiaoyu?
That was why she had planned to wait until Aunt made a move before asking Shi Yan for help. For instance, now she could say she had accidentally discovered someone was monitoring her and request Shi Yan’s assistance in investigating.
Once Shi Yan uncovered evidence linking it to Aunt, she would have both proof and a witness.
So now should she pin everything on Xie Chu, or should she voice her suspicions about Aunt?
Translator: Glariosa
Editor: Ruu
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