Forced into a Secret Marriage with the Villain, We Now Have a Child - Chapter 21.1

In her original life, Jian Chun’s parents had divorced long ago. Her father remarried when she was only six years old. At first, her stepmother treated her well, but as she had children of her own, her bias naturally shifted.

The original Jian Chun could never accept this; she believed she deserved the same treatment and affection as her younger brother. Starved for love, her behavior became increasingly extreme—an attempt to force her family’s attention back to her. However, as she spiraled further into delinquency, the results were entirely counterproductive.

When the “new” Jian Chun transmigrated into this body, she adapted quickly. Her previous life had been strikingly similar: biased parents and a brother who lived purely for his own pleasure while she did all the work.

She remembered a time she had returned home with a stellar report card, expecting praise. Instead, her father frowned at the grades and said, “You want to go to high school? The tuition is thousands of yuan, and there’s no guarantee you’ll even get into university. Even if you do, that’s tens of thousands a year. If we pay for you, what happens to your brother? Besides, you’ll just get married off anyway.”

At fifteen, Jian Chun believed that if she were simply excellent enough, her parents would value her. She blamed herself, constantly searching for her own flaws. Her middle school teacher, seeing her potential, had hoped she would attend the city’s top high school. Jian Chun fought for it; she excelled and even earned a scholarship. She applied for every financial aid package available to ease the family’s burden, hoping her diligence would move them.

Instead, she was met with her father’s look of disappointment—as if she were being “difficult”—and her biological mother’s resentment. Meanwhile, her younger brother was in eighth grade, his grades a total disaster. Yet, her parents only worried about him. They pressured Jian Chun to tutor him while simultaneously suggesting she drop out to work. In that house, only the son mattered.

Eventually, the pressure broke her. Her grades plummeted. Despite her teachers’ pleas for her to stay, she gave up. After the college entrance exams, she barely scraped into a third-tier university, and the nightmare finally ended.

Now, she was in this new world as a high school senior.

Her father in this life was named Jian Fanghua. His ancestors were scholars, and he was quite capable himself. He worked as a construction contractor—not a billionaire, but wealthy enough to live comfortably. Unfortunately, he held deeply traditional, sexist views. Jian Chun’s biological mother had been divorced by the family simply because she couldn’t produce a son after Jian Chun was born.

Her stepmother, Yan Shan, was three years older than Jian Fanghua. She was uneducated and had previously worked as a cook on one of his construction sites. However, she was “capable” in the eyes of the family—she had already birthed three sons from a previous marriage. Jian Fanghua admired this “fertility,” and the two eventually had an affair. Yan Shan, seeing that Jian Fanghua was more successful than her previous husband, divorced and married him.

As Jian Chun finished dressing and headed out, she saw Yan Shan cradling her youngest half-brother. Her eyelid twitched. It felt like her previous life was repeating itself. I feel like I’ve been screwed over by fate, she thought, but there is no way in hell I’m giving up my education this time.

Jian Fanghua looked up. “Why are you up so late? Don’t you have class today?”

“I stayed up too late reading,” Jian Chun replied, rubbing her stiff neck. She had fallen asleep at her desk—a feat that felt miraculous, yet left her wondering if the “dream” she’d had was actually reality.

Jian Fanghua scowled. “Just don’t cause trouble at school. They sent me another text asking when I can come in for a meeting.”

“Oh.”

Since arriving, Jian Chun had tried to avoid the original plot and its characters. The “trouble” was usually caused by her group of “mean girl” friends. She had tried to stop them, but unfortunately, some things had already escalated.

“Are you going to go?” she asked, sitting at the table.

“Let your mother go. I have to get to the construction site.” To him, men handled the “outside” world, and women handled the “inside” domestic trifles.

Yan Shan looked up, holding the six-year-old. “I have to take the boy for his vaccinations. The lines take forever.”

Jian Chun ate her breakfast in silence, thinking it was probably better if Yan Shan didn’t show up at school to make things worse anyway.

Yan Shan turned her gaze to Jian Chun. “Chun-chun, what did you do this time? Did you bully another classmate?”

Jian Fanghua waved it off. “Bullying is fine, as long as she isn’t the one coming home crying.”

Yan Shan knew her husband’s temper. She softened her tone. “Old Jian, you don’t understand. The internet is full of people attacking ‘campus violence’ these days. It’s not that I’m worried about her being bullied—Chun-chun is far too sharp for that. But these girls nowadays… they corner people in alleys and get caught on camera. If she gets taken to the police station, it’ll ruin the family reputation.”

Jian Chun saw right through her. Since joining the Jian family, Yan Shan’s eyes had been fixed solely on her son’s inheritance. In the early years, she had tried to win Jian Chun over. Now that she had her own son, she saw Jian Chun as a rival for the family estate and constantly looked for ways to drive a wedge between father and daughter.

I should applaud her, Jian Chun thought bitterly. The lengths she’ll go to for her son.

Sure enough, Jian Fanghua’s expression hardened. He was a man of “face.” The idea of being summoned to a police station because of his daughter’s antics was humiliating.

“Jian Chun, who did you bully recently?” he demanded.

“What do you mean by ‘bully’?” Jian Chun replied calmly. “I haven’t cornered anyone in an alley.” (Technically, she had tried to corner someone recently, but the other party had turned the tables on her. The half-written self-reflection letter was still in her backpack.)

Jian Fanghua grunted. “You’re an educated girl now. I’m busy and can’t watch you 24/7, so don’t lose face for me out there.”

“I know, Dad. Look, the teacher only sent a text; it wasn’t a formal disciplinary action. It’s not that serious. Schools are full of friction; I was just talking tough.”

Jian Fanghua relaxed slightly. “Even if you’re just talking tough, don’t let the teachers catch you. It’s annoying to get these calls constantly.”

“I get it. From now on, I’ll focus on my studies.” She gave him a performative smile, wiped her mouth, and held out her hand. “Dad, I’m out of allowance for the week. I need a bit extra to buy some clothes.”

“I gave the allowance money to your mother,” he said.

“She doesn’t know what I like,” Jian Chun said, feigning consideration for her stepmother. “Besides, she’s busy with my brother. Just give me the cash and I’ll go with my friends.”

Jian Fanghua wasn’t stingy. He still held some affection for his daughter. He pulled out 500 yuan—a massive amount compared to the 150 yuan Yan Shan usually begrudgingly gave her.

Jian Chun pocketed the money happily and urged him to hurry so she could catch a ride to school. She acted the part of the innocent, bubbly daughter perfectly.

At the table, Yan Shan watched them leave, her eyes burning with suppressed rage. She feared Jian Chun for a very specific, almost superstitious reason.

When Jian Chun was born, Jian Fanghua had just landed a massive contract he had been chasing for years. At twenty, he was just starting his career, and the double blessing led the whole family to believe Jian Chun was a “lucky star.” His career continued to flourish afterward, and he credited her for it. He had even raised her on construction sites himself when she was little. Their bond was deep, which was why Yan Shan never dared to insult Jian Chun directly. She played the long game, hoping Jian Chun’s own bad behavior would eventually alienate her father.

Yan Shan turned back to her son and tried to feed him, but the boy was distracted, and she ended up smearing porridge on his face. She felt a surge of anxiety. Her son was six, yet he could barely speak clearly and still had to be spoon-fed.

As they walked to the car, Yan Shan tried to push the boy onto them. “Take him to kindergarten for me.”

“Mom, I thought you were taking him for vaccines?” Jian Chun asked.

“The vaccines can wait. His father is leaving for a while; they should spend time together,” Yan Shan said with a fake smile.

Jian Chun didn’t argue. She knew this family dynamic all too well. She had seen a pampered, useless brother “spoiled rotten” in her past life; this one looked to be headed down the same path. She wasn’t close enough to them to care how Yan Shan raised him.

The boy, Jian Yanmin, sat in the car and started playing. Jian Fanghua doted on him as the family heir.

“Daddy, money,” Yanmin suddenly chirped.

“What money?”

“You gave sister money. I want some too.”

Jian Fanghua sighed. “Your sister is grown up; she has things to buy. What do you need money for?”

“I want it!”

Jian Chun looked at the child. He shot her a triumphant, bratty look. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. She wasn’t going to fight a six-year-old, but it was obvious who had been “teaching” him to be so competitive over money.