Transmigrated into a Historical GL Novel as the Scumbag Heroine - Chapter 35

Madam Cheng’s hand, hidden in her sleeve, clenched tightly, a thin layer of cold sweat forming on her palm.

She had grown up in a merchant family, not one bound by outdated rites and rituals. She never truly believed in the doctrine that a woman must obey her husband after marriage. Still, since she was the one who brought up the idea of separation, it was impossible not to feel a trace of bitterness.

Somewhere deep inside, she was also anxious.

She wasn’t even sure what she was anxious about. Was it that Father Cheng might refuse to divorce her, forcing the situation into a complete falling out?

Or was it that he might agree too easily—a clean break, decades of marriage dissolved in an instant?

Her fists tightened as her gaze dropped, as though bracing herself for a final, hopeless farewell.

Father Cheng stared at her for a few moments before snorting coldly.

“A jealous woman like you should be divorced. I’ll write the paper right now. But don’t even think of getting a single coin from the Cheng family, and Yu’er had better not dream of competing with her brother!”

All his assets were intended for the son in Concubine Tang’s womb—that was the true heir of the Cheng family.

“Fine. I only want my dowry. Yu’er will leave with me.” Madam Cheng suddenly felt a wave of clarity. How ridiculous all those years had been.

Even now, what this man cared about was his property—afraid that she and her daughter would lay claim to it.

Slowly, she unclenched her hands and turned to retrieve paper and ink.

“Think carefully,” Father Cheng warned, his voice darkening. “If I write this divorce letter, you’ll shame the family. A cast-off woman at your age—no decent household will ever want you again.”

He could hardly believe she really dared to go this far. Was she out of her mind?

But Madam Cheng was more clearheaded than ever. She laid the writing materials before him and said calmly, “Write it. The sooner we end this, the better.”

In a flash of anger, Father Cheng grabbed the brush and scribbled down the divorce letter. When he finished, he suddenly felt a surge of irritation and unease.

He tossed the letter to the ground.

“Fine. Get out of here. The both of you. Don’t come back and stain my sight.”

Madam Cheng bent down silently to pick up the paper. Her lips moved slightly as she uttered just two words:

“Take care.”

She gave him one last, long look—then turned and walked away without a hint of regret.

In the room, Father Cheng gripped the edge of the table and watched her retreating figure disappear from sight.

“Get out! Both of you leave now—and don’t even think of coming back!” he shouted, the sudden emptiness in his heart twisting into rage. His voice broke from yelling too hard.

Yet the delicate figure never once paused.

At the front yard, Madam Cheng instructed her trusted maid, Ah Mo, to gather her belongings and dowry. She then sent someone to call her daughter over.

“Yu’er… I’m leaving this household,” she began. But the rest of the sentence was swallowed by the sudden sting of tears in her eyes.

Cheng Yu remained calm, gently taking her mother’s hand.

“Don’t worry, Mother. Wherever you go, your daughter will follow.”

Madam Cheng pressed her lips tightly together and nodded with effort. Her daughter’s comfort gradually settled her heart.

She had been married for years. Her parents were long gone. Her maiden home was now managed by her younger brother and his calculating wife. Thinking of her impractical brother and cunning sister-in-law, Madam Cheng sighed.

“It’s still early. Let’s find a temporary place to stay and get everything in order.”

Meanwhile, in a side courtyard, Concubine Tang, who had been gloating and preparing to mock Madam Cheng, ended up actually triggering early labor from the emotional upheaval.

Thus, when Madam Cheng and Cheng Yu departed, the Cheng household was eerily quiet. No one came to see them off. The servants either served Concubine Tang or had long been replaced. Very few of the old,loyal staff remained.

Mother and daughter stepped out of the grand, ornate Cheng estate. Just as they were boarding the carriage, a voice called out in the distance.

“Madam Cheng! Miss Cheng!”

It was Shen Yanding from the neighboring Shen family, rushing over the moment he heard about Madam Cheng’s dismissal.

Now that Madam Cheng had been cast aside, and Cheng Yu was no longer the high-and-mighty daughter of the richest family in town—did this mean he had a chance again?

She was now a disgraced woman. Cheng Yu could even be taken as a concubine. If she refused, he could talk Lu Jiaojiao into letting her be a secondary wife.

Countless thoughts spun through Shen Yanding’s mind in that brief moment. His gaze toward Cheng Yu was full of longing.

Cheng Yu turned her head. She wore a red jacket and black skirt, her face expressionless.

She gave Shen Yanding a polite nod—barely an acknowledgment—then helped her mother into the carriage.

“Let’s go.”

Panicked, Shen Yanding ran forward, but the carriage had already started moving. He was drenched in sweat, unsure whether to chase or retreat, forced to watch helplessly as the carriage rolled away.

Inside, Madam Cheng patted her daughter’s hand and said with concern,

“That Shen man is already engaged, and you’re soon to marry Qiu Luo. Don’t speak with him again, just like today. Gossip kills.”

The world was always harsher on women. If an engaged woman was seen talking privately with a betrothed man, scandalous rumors would surely follow.

She didn’t worry about her daughter’s composure—but she did worry about Shen Yanding’s lack of sense and twisted intentions.

Cheng Yu paused, then smiled faintly.

“Don’t worry, Mother. I understand.”

The carriage traveled down a quiet lane near the county office and academy—one of the best areas in town.

They stopped in front of a two-entry courtyard home. A fresh plaque hung at the entrance: “Liu Residence.”

Liu was Madam Cheng’s maiden name.

Suddenly, she understood. She turned to her daughter in surprise and emotion.

“Yu’er, when did you prepare this?”

Cheng Yu curved her lips into a soft smile.

“The year Concubine Tang entered our home.”

The house had been purchased three to five years ago. She had even arranged for regular cleanings—just in case.

At that moment, the gate swung open. The old steward led a group of familiar servants to greet them with a loud welcome:

“Welcome home, Madam!”

Madam Cheng saw all the familiar faces and burst into tears.

Back when Concubine Tang had just arrived, she stirred up drama constantly, often targeting the madam’s old servants.

But with Father Chengs’s protection, Madam Cheng couldn’t stop her. All she could do was dismiss her loyal staff, sending them off with generous severance. One by one, Concubine Tang filled the household with her own people.

In order to maintain peace, Madam Cheng had given up everything. But in the end, it had only frozen her heart.

Now, returning to these familiar faces, she smiled and wiped away her tears.

“I’ve been foolish,” she said. “I should’ve let go long ago. Wasting all those years on a man who never truly cared… it wasn’t worth it.”

Cheng Yu took her mother’s arm.

“Let’s go inside, Mother. New Year’s is almost here. This one will be much livelier than the last.”

Madam Cheng nodded through her smile.

“Yes, lively is good. Lively is very good.”

Only on New Year’s Eve did she realize just how lively her daughter had meant.

Everything inside the home was familiar—the furnishings, the staff, even the way they gathered around the fire to make dumplings together.

By her side, a boisterous youth proudly held up his handiwork.

“Madam Cheng, look! How are my dumplings?”

It was Qiu Erlang, of course—clever as ever. He had quickly picked up the technique and now showed off with gleaming eyes.

Madam Cheng beamed.

“You’re quite talented, Erlang. Better than me, even!”

Beside her, Qiu Luo gave Cheng Yu a nudge.

“So you’re saying… Erlang and I are living here now?”

Cheng Yu smiled.

“Of course. What, you want to spend New Year’s in Qiu Village instead? That would break my mother’s heart.”

She blinked playfully, a rare sparkle in her eyes, so unlike her usual calm and distant self.

Qiu Luo glanced at her foolishly grinning brother and pretended to sigh.

“If I say yes, Erlang’s going to cry first.”

Cheng Yu laughed again.

“Mother really likes Erlang. I’m too quiet and reserved.”

The old steward once told her—before marriage, her mother was lively and cheerful.

Their household had once been warm and vibrant. But as the years passed, as her father spent more nights away—and eventually brought Concubine Tang into their home—everything grew cold and lifeless.

As Cheng Yu’s gaze darkened with thought, Qiu Luo mischievously poked a hole in the dumpling she had just wrapped and shook her head.

“Miss Cheng, your technique needs work. This one’s not even fit for the pot.”

Cheng Yu pursed her lips and pinched the dumpling shut, glancing at Qiu Luo’s perfect row before admitting,

“Yours are better than mine.”

She had never made dumplings before. This was her first time—unlike Qiu Luo, who moved with practiced ease.

Qiu Luo leaned in, her eyes gleaming with teasing mischief.

“So, today’s the first time you’ve realized how good my skills are, Miss Cheng? I’ve had plenty of practice.”