A Straight Wife Fallen from the Sky - Chapter 8

Sang Zhancheng produced the most honest question mark of the day.

In the career settings of the vast majority of succubi, going to school and studying was treated much like seeing a necromancer: it was a hard requirement, but nobody actually wanted to do it.

Had the All-Races Party not promoted compulsory education to twelve years over the recent decade, most succubi probably wouldn’t even have finished high school before heading off to find a future partner and enjoy life.

Sang Zhancheng was no exception.

“Going to school isn’t something you can eat or sleep with; what use is it?”

Mu Jiahui froze for a moment.

Sang Rancheng’s attitude didn’t carry any intent to offend. It seemed she simply, purely did not understand the meaning of schooling, which is why she asked such a question.

This made Mu Jiahui even more frustrated.

Looking at Sang Zhancheng, she couldn’t equate her with the ignorant villagers from her past—the ones who coveted her womb or despised girls from the marrow of their bones.

Sang Zhancheng was more like the little neighbor girl Mu Jiahui grew up with; a girl who grew up hearing the “worthless people” say, “School is useless for girls since they’ll just get married anyway,” and had been completely brainwashed.

Pitiful and tragic, she had inadvertently fallen away from the human world, destined for a life of subservience to husband and children, endless childbearing, farm labor, and a weary existence where she couldn’t even eat her fill.

Mu Jiahui had never returned to her hometown after testing her way out of the remote mountains.

While others had nostalgia, she had none. To her, home meant nothing but endless, eye-stinging yellow sand, freezing mud soaking through cloth shoes, the purest malice in human nature, and a village so large that gossip at the entrance was known at the tail end by noon.

This only strengthened Mu Jiahui’s conviction.

She absolutely had to rescue Sang Rancheng from this fire and water; she couldn’t let her follow the old path of that neighbor girl.

“Knowledge changes destiny! A good university can lead to a good job and a good life. Most importantly, it broadens your horizons and allows you to have a place of your own in the world!”

Mu Jiahui was just a step away from puffing out her chest, grabbing a microphone, and standing on a podium to deliver a deafening speech.

Sang Zhancheng followed Mu Jiahui’s words and began to ponder.

“Succubi don’t need those kinds of external things. Besides, my family is actually quite rich. My dad made a fortune in the stock market a while ago and bought my mom a villa.” At the very least, Sang Zhancheng had never worried about food or warmth.

Mu Jiahui had indeed forgotten to consider Sang Zhancheng’s family background.

Thinking of the string of zeros on the check, Mu Jiahui felt a slight tinge of “eat the rich” resentment.

Having climbed to the position of CEO, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen wealthy heirs with low education levels before; most of them ended up crying bitter tears of regret later.

Mu Jiahui tried to persuade Sang Zhancheng from another angle.

“Without an education, people will look down on you. If you don’t have knowledge in your head, you’ll be looked down upon by just about anyone. Everyone will think you’re inferior, and failing to gain social recognition is also very painful.”

Sang Zhancheng blinked.

“But everyone knows succubi aren’t smart and aren’t cut out for studying. Who would be harsh on me? Besides, my mom only has a junior high education, and she seems very happy to me?”

What kind of person could so calmly accept the fact that they weren’t smart?

Should she be called innocent or just plain stupid?

This little brat had clearly never been beaten down by life.

Mu Jiahui felt a bit suffocated. She had been beaten by life since she was small—beaten until she was terrified—but Sang Zhancheng wasn’t like that.

Moreover, judging by Sang Rancheng’s attitude, she was entirely the kind of child who had been protected too well—excessively kind and naive, unable to see the disdain and sarcasm the outside world held for her, believing that if she treated others with kindness, she would receive kindness in return.

Mu Jiahui was certain that the social status of succubi was low.

Otherwise, why would other races openly say things like “succubi aren’t smart” or “lustful and licentious,” and spread such concepts widely?

Even their racial characteristics were an indicator; Mu Jiahui had noticed today that only the succubus race seemed to hide their traits as if they were shameful. Other races displayed their features boldly, taking pride in them.

Not to mention that as a medium-sized race, the succubi didn’t even have a political party of their own.

What Mu Jiahui didn’t know was that the succubus race consisted mostly of housewives whose horizons were confined to their own small circles; where would they find the heart to fight for their rights?

Sang Zhancheng likely couldn’t feel the malice from other races. Or perhaps she was used to it, believing it was normal for others to be a head taller than her.

What a dangerous attitude. Mu Jiahui stared intently at the naive young girl, suddenly feeling a sense of sorrow.

She had no standing and no ability to change the thoughts that had soaked into Sang Zhancheng for eighteen years.

“Your family is rich, but the money was earned by your father, right?”

Mu Jiahui took a deep breath and tried another angle to persuade her. She could only do her best to show Sang Zhancheng another possibility for her life.

Sang Rancheng’s tail betrayed her boredom, swaying left and right with a rhythmic thumping.

“Yeah, he’s opened a small company now and is making quite a bit of money.” Consequently, her monthly allowance had increased, otherwise, she wouldn’t have been willing to pay that medical bill today.

“Then have you ever considered him divorcing your mom?”

“Pfft.” Hearing this, Sang Zhancheng actually laughed out loud.

“Mumu~ that joke isn’t funny. Those two have been in love for decades; how could they possibly divorce?”

She even reached out to grab Mu Jiahui’s hand, feeling quite restless and wanting to do some “adult things.”

Mu Jiahui squeezed Sang Zhancheng’s hand and pressed it down.

“Let’s assume for a moment he is devoted. But his property is ultimately not yours. How can you rely on others… forget it, let me ask you another thing. What if his company collapses?”

Sang Rancheng’s pink peach-heart tail immediately began to twitch uneasily.

“No… that wouldn’t happen, right?” She didn’t understand finance or the market, so she didn’t have the confidence to say it was absolutely impossible.

“All investments have risks, let alone starting a small company. In the early stages, it’s high risk and low reward; you never know when it might go bankrupt. Let me ask you one more thing: you are succubi, but your father definitely isn’t, right? I saw he has no beast traits; he’s likely human. We humans only live for about a hundred years. If he passes away, what will your family do?” This was, naturally, the most realistic and likely scenario.

Sang Zhancheng was stumped.

Where would she have considered so many problems? In her succubus life, there was only the word “enjoyment.”

But this newly-minted partner was suddenly telling her that one day she might not be able to continue enjoying life, and that her family would leave her behind.

Mu Jiahui’s words were like a demon’s whisper, making Sang Zhancheng a bit overwhelmed.

As Sang Zhancheng thought about it, her eyes turned red.

“You’re so annoying… why would you say that? My dad will definitely live for a hundred, uh, ugh… if all else fails, we’ll sell the house and have him find the Great Priestess, that way he can have… half a succubus’s lifespan… waah!”

As she spoke, Sang Zhancheng tried to pull out her phone to call her parents.

It was a bit late, so the call naturally didn’t go through.

Sang Zhancheng started crying again, this time with small sobs. She was angry with Mu Jiahui again and turned her back, refusing to let Mu Jiahui touch her.

Mu Jiahui, who hadn’t wanted much physical contact anyway: “…”

“I didn’t mean to scare you, but the facts are the facts; these things are possible. Without a father to rely on, and without an education, if I’m still a useless transmigrator who can’t earn money by then, you’ll have no one to lean on. What will you do?”

To persuade the girl to study, Mu Jiahui didn’t hesitate to insult herself.

Sang Rancheng, of course, couldn’t say she would kick Mu Jiahui out and find a richer one.

She sobbed, her heart half-softened, but her mouth still refused: “I have to rely on intimate relationships to stay alive. If… if you won’t play with me, I’ll go see the necromancer!”