Transmigrating As a Poor Fake Heiress with Trillions in Family Asset - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Everyone in the corridor heard Sang Wei’s voice and turned their heads.

“Oh, look who’s back! The ‘Golden Phoenix’ and her parents!” The neighbor from across the hall spoke with a voice so sour it could preserve a jar of pickles. “Old Sang, what did you just say? I didn’t quite hear you. Are you saying you’re paying the rent? Or are you just waiting for Miss An to pay for it? Do you even have a cent to your name?”

Sang Wei was beyond frustrated with these neighbors. In his eyes, if they spent half as much time working as they did gossiping, they wouldn’t still be living in a place like this.

He didn’t bother explaining. He walked straight to the landlord and said, “We’ll settle the back rent now. However, we won’t be renewing. Calculate the total up to today.”

The landlord instinctively glanced at An Siyuan. In the past, Siyuan had always been the one responsible for the rent.

Siyuan shrank back slightly, her heart racing. If her foster father asked her for money, what would she do? Mrs. An had stripped her of all her cash before letting her leave the villa, specifically to prevent her from subsidizing the Sangs.

“Jingjing, come settle the account with the landlord.”

Seeing everyone’s eyes on Siyuan, Sang Wei wanted to clear up the misunderstanding immediately. He had his own daughter; he had no intention of pestering someone else’s child for money.

Sang Jing stepped forward. She offered the landlord a faint smile—elegant and polite, yet marked by a distinct, professional distance.

“How much is it? Please give me the total.”

The moment she appeared, she completely overshadowed Siyuan. Before her transmigration, Sang Jing had been physically frail, but her education had been impeccable. Growing up under more pressure than most had given her a level of composure that far exceeded her peers. Compared to Siyuan, who had spent her life scrambling for survival in the slums, Sang Jing’s aura made Siyuan look dull and common.

The landlord blinked in surprise, thinking to herself that a rich family’s daughter really did carry herself differently. She did a quick calculation and said, “It’s been four and a half months. That comes to 6,000 yuan.”

Sang Jing reached into her bag, pulled out a stack of cash, and counted out 6,000 yuan.

The landlord’s eyes lit up at the sight of the crisp bills. She took the money with a fawning smile. “Oh, Miss Sang, you certainly are decisive! Are you moving today? Have you called a moving company, or should I call a car to haul your luggage?”

“We’ve already taken what we need,” Sang Jing replied. “We don’t want the furniture or the remaining items in the room. You can handle them as you see fit. They aren’t in great condition, but if you clean them up, someone might be able to move right in.”

Sang Jing knew that for some, a furnished room—even with old furniture—could be a lifesaver.

The landlord was ecstatic. “Really? You’re leaving all that behind? New furniture costs a fortune!”

Before Sang Jing could respond, Siyuan stepped in, looking distressed.

“You’re leaving the furniture? What will you use in your new home?” Siyuan knit her brows. “Sister, I know you look down on these things, but given the circumstances, you should make do. Once you sell these clothes I brought, you’ll have the money to buy new furniture!”

Sang Jing looked at the “White Lotus” female lead, wondering how such a “noble” persona didn’t make the male lead fall in love instantly.

Still, she remained civil. “Thank you for the thought, but it’s unnecessary. The furniture is of no use to us, and I won’t be taking these clothes either. If any of the neighbors find them suitable, please, feel free to take them. Don’t mind that they’re second-hand; I haven’t worn most of them much, so they’re quite new and of good quality.”

Even though the clothes belonged to the original host, Sang Jing felt awkward wearing them. Besides, her father had brought a trillion-dollar fortune to this world; her parents would never let her wear hand-me-downs.

The corridor erupted. The neighbors didn’t know high-end brands, but they had heard Siyuan say repeatedly that these clothes were worth a lot of money. To them, one of Sang Jing’s dresses might be worth a year’s salary.

The crowd surged forward, eager to grab whatever they could to wear or sell. The neighbor across the hall grabbed her daughter, preparing to dive into the pile.

Sang Jing coughed lightly and stepped in their way. “I’m sure you and your daughter don’t need my clothes. After all, you both seem much more ‘noble’ than I am.”

Her calm, deadpan sarcasm drew laughter from the other tenants.

“Exactly! Don’t come crawling for her things now after all the nasty things you said!”

“People really should watch their mouths if they want to keep their dignity.”

The neighbor’s face turned a violent shade of red. Her daughter, unable to take the humiliation, bolted back into their room and slammed the door. The mother, however, stayed behind, her eyes red with regret as she watched the clothes being divided among the others.

Siyuan’s heart was also bleeding. Although she was now a rich miss, she had been raised in poverty. If it weren’t for the fact that wearing Sang Jing’s old clothes was seen as “tacky” in high society, she never would have given them up. Seeing dresses worth tens of thousands of yuan being snatched up by slum-dwellers made her want to scream.

But when she saw the indifference on Sang Jing’s face, Siyuan felt a chill of jealousy.

That should be me, she thought. I should be the one who is calm and unbothered. Because of the hospital’s mistake, she had spent twenty years in filth, and even though she was “home” now, she couldn’t strip the “poor” out of her bones. Meanwhile, Sang Jing’s twenty years of luxury had given her a confidence that allowed her to pay rent without blinking and discard designer labels like trash.

Siyuan lowered her gaze to the dirty floor. No, Siyuan. You must be grateful. You are the lucky one. You just need to change, slowly, until you are better.

Sang Jing had no desire for more contact with the female lead. Once the logistics were settled, she said her goodbyes and left the building.

Behind her, the neighbors gushed to Siyuan. “Siyuan, you’ll become like Miss Sang soon, won’t you? She’s like a peony—pure wealth and grace!”

“I have to say, a girl raised in that kind of family is just different. That poise… we could never learn that.”

Siyuan forced a smile and exchanged a few pleasantries before leaving. However, her mind was racing with questions.

Her biological parents said they hadn’t given Sang Jing a dime. Her foster parents claimed they had no savings and were drowning in debt.

So where did Sang Jing get that money? Who is lying to me?