Diary of exchange

Untitled Episode

The Silent Battlefield

"Slap!"

Qiao Wantang had barely opened her eyes when a vicious slap landed across her face.

"You b*tch! If Yuzhi doesn't wake up, Wen Group will make you pay with your life!"

Qiao Wantang's cheek burned like fire. Before her stood an impeccably made-up noblewoman, her face twisted in fury as she glared daggers.

Qiao Wantang blinked, and a flood of memories suddenly crashed into her mind.

Oh. So she'd transmigrated into a book.

A classic old-school abuse novel packed with all the tropes: elite family drama, true and false heiresses, and a descent into darkness.

And she was the vicious supporting female character—the one who drugged her way into marrying a wealthy husband, then tormented their son out of her own emotional frustrations, only to be tortured to death by her own blackening biological child in the end.

Right now, her husband—no, ex-husband—Wen Yuzhi had just become a vegetable in a car accident. The Wen family was pressuring her to renounce her inheritance rights and sign a child custody termination agreement, all to snatch away her son, Wen Yunxing.

Qiao Wantang touched her scorching cheek and suddenly smiled.

"What's so funny?!" Wen's mother snapped.

"I'm just thinking..." Qiao Wantang rose slowly to her feet, brushing nonexistent dust from her skirt, "that slap of yours—wouldn't that qualify as a level-two minor injury?"

Wen's mother froze. "What?"

Qiao Wantang had already pulled out her phone. She snapped a photo of her swollen, reddened face, then, right in front of everyone, opened Weibo's compose page.

[Crowdfunding for lawyer fees: Wen Group's chairman's wife assaults her daughter-in-law in public. Ironclad evidence. Please share!]

Wen's mother's face drained to an ashen gray. "Have you lost your mind?!"

Qiao Wantang flashed a sweet smile and hit send. "Lost my mind? This is just the beginning."

Silence descended over the Wen family hall like a shroud.

Qiao Wantang scanned the room, her gaze finally settling on a small, frail figure in the corner.

Five-year-old Wen Yunxing stood there quietly, his dark eyes fixed on her with chilling detachment.

According to the original plot, Wen Yuzhi's parents had a textbook business marriage—lukewarm toward their son at best. After his birth, they'd gone their separate ways with lovers on the side. They never outright abused him, but toward Qiao Wantang and Wen Yunxing, it was much the same indifference.

As for this grandson of theirs, they never showed him a kind face. Scoldings and beatings were routine, and not only did she, his own mother, turn a blind eye—she joined in on the abuse.

In the end, Wen Yunxing blackened and personally locked her away in a mental asylum, tormenting her to death.

Qiao Wantang stared at him for two seconds, then strode over and crouched down to meet his eyes. "Kid, you want to come with me?"

Wen Yunxing's face remained impassive, his voice flat in a way no child should sound. "You'll kill me."

Qiao Wantang nodded. "Fair point. But this whole family's liable to beat you to death too."

"Besides," she added, her lips curving in a smile that didn't reach her eyes, "you're pissing me off by turning me down." Without another word, she scooped Wen Yunxing into her arms, ignoring his squirms, and hoisted him over her shoulder like a sack of flour. She marched toward the door.

The Wen family finally snapped out of it. Wen's mother shrieked, "Stop her! Get that little b*st*rd back here!"

Bodyguards lunged forward. Qiao Wantang didn't even glance back as she fished a can of pepper spray from her bag and unleashed a wild burst behind her.

"Aaah—!"

Amid the agonized screams, she said calmly to the boy slung over her shoulder, "See? That's self-defense."

Wen Yunxing glanced down at her, silent, his pitch-black eyes reflecting the defiant line of her profile.

"Qiao Wantang! You b*tch!" Wen's mother clutched her eyes, her makeup smearing into a grotesque mask, her voice shrill enough to c***k.

Qiao Wantang tsked, her tone airy. "Do all you elite ladies lack basic manners?"

She shook her head with exaggerated regret and sighed.

"Lucky you met me."

Before the words had fully landed, she snatched an antique vase from a nearby curio shelf. In the horrified stares of everyone present, she swung her arm.

"Crash!"

The blue-and-white porcelain shattered on the floor, shards flying everywhere.

Qiao Wantang dusted off her hands and gave Wen's mother a slight smile. "Because I'm even less mannerly than you."

She glanced down at Wen Yunxing, her voice casual as if commenting on the weather. "The old bat slaps me once; I smash one of her vases. We're even."

She paused, then added, "See? That's 'I don't start fights, but I finish them.'"

Wen Yuzhi stood off to the side, his face a storm cloud as he watched the scene unfold.

He should have been lying in a hospital bed, yet his consciousness floated here like a ghost—intangible, unable to touch a thing. But every time he tried to drift away, an invisible force yanked him back to Qiao Wantang's side.

And his ex-wife—that venomous woman who'd just turned their home upside down—was now strolling out with a grin, the boy still draped over her shoulder.

Qiao Wantang hummed a tune, striding boldly out the gates of the Wen estate with Wen Yunxing in tow. She paused just as a black sedan screeched to a halt in front of her.

The window rolled down, revealing a strikingly beautiful face: Qiao Xueying, the original owner's "good little sister"—the fake heiress.

Qiao Xueying stepped out, arms crossed, her red lips curling into a venomous smirk as she eyed Qiao Wantang. "Sister, Yuzhi-ge hasn't even flatlined yet, and you're already hightailing it with his spawn?"

She suddenly dropped her voice to a whisper only the three of them could hear. "Though you've got some real luck, don't you? I meant to run you over, but fate had other plans—you survived."

Qiao Wantang's pupils contracted. "What do you mean by that?"

Wen Yuzhi, hovering nearby, stared in disbelief. So the car accident he'd just endured... it hadn't been an accident at all?

Qiao Xueying savored the shift in her expression. "Exactly what you think."

"Speaking of which, you really are one lucky b*tch. That drugged drink was meant for President Li—I never figured Wen Yuzhi would down it. Otherwise, with your lowborn status, what right would you have to climb into bed with the head of the Wen family?"

Qiao Wantang arched a brow. She'd always assumed the drugging and bed-climbing had been the original owner's gold-digging scheme. She hadn't realized Qiao Xueying was the puppet master behind it?

Qiao Wantang rubbed her hands together, then flashed a wicked grin and drove her foot straight into Qiao Xueying's backside. Qiao Xueying yelped and crumpled to her knees.

"Qiao Wantang, you—!" As Qiao Xueying tried to scramble up, Qiao Wantang bent down and pinned her shoulders. Her knees slammed into the ground again, pain twisting her features into a grimace.

"Qiao Xueying," Qiao Wantang released her grip and bared a smile that sent chills down the spine, "you'd better pray Wen Yuzhi wakes up."

"Or else I'll make sure you learn what it means to beg for death."

Wen Yuzhi, adrift beside them, felt as if he'd been struck by lightning. He stared fixedly at Qiao Wantang's profile, his very soul quaking.

So... he'd hated the wrong person all along? His wife, neglected by him for five long years, had been a victim too?

What shocked him even more was the murderous intent surging in her eyes right now. She cared about him that much? About whether he lived or died?

Qiao Wantang finished speaking and deftly bundled Wen Yunxing into the passenger seat before sliding behind the wheel herself.

As she turned the key in the ignition, she cast one last glance at Qiao Xueying sprawled on the ground. "I'm taking the car. Bye-bye~"

The tires screeched against the pavement, kicking up a cloud of dust that left Qiao Xueying coughing and sputtering.

In the rearview mirror, Qiao Wantang watched the woman's disheveled form recede, a cold smirk tugging at her lips.

Wen Yunxing sat quietly, buckling his seatbelt, then spoke up abruptly. "She drugged you?"

"Mm-hmm."

"She caused Dad's accident too?"

"Yep."

"So... should we kill her?"