Back to the Past: The Rise of the False Heiress Marrying the True Tycoon Chapter 1197: Childless

Chapter 1197: Childless

Lin Miao had barely managed to pacify Li Li before boarding the creaky long-distance bus back to the city. She sat stiffly in her seat, her brows drawn so tightly together she looked like she might develop permanent frown lines.

Brushing Li Li off with vague promises was simply not going to cut it—money was the only solution. Cold, hard cash. Only once she handed Li Li enough to disappear—at least temporarily—could she breathe a little easier.

Whether that woman would return again in the future was another question, but by then, Li Li would have lost any real leverage.

The real problem? Where on earth was she supposed to get the money?

She was already down to her last few bills. Traveling back and forth between the city and the countryside now ant suffering the indignity of the public bus. And when she inevitably ran into soone she knew, she had to paste on a bright smile and pretend she was just “reconnecting with the common folk.”

Oh, how she swallowed that bitter sha. Poverty was simply unbearable.

She thought of Zhang i—her own mother—who probably still had a hidden stash of rainy-day savings. But ever since that ill-fated investnt disaster, Zhang i had made it painfully clear: she would not give Lin Miao another cent. The trust was gone. The love of a mother might still flicker in her heart, but that wouldn’t hold out forever.

As for Gu Shan—well, he was the most pragmatic of them all. Ruthlessly so. He had more than once grumbled that he regretted ever choosing Lin Miao over Gu Zi. The idea of asking him for help was laughable.

But then, like a sudden flash of light through a cracked window, Lin Miao rembered: there was still money. Hidden money.

In the cabinet of Gu Shan’s study, tucked away like so guilty secret, was a stash of 3,000 yuan. Last ti, she had quietly taken 1,000 from it to help Lin Cheng in a mont of crisis. She had foolishly believed that the gesture would earn her gratitude from the Lin family, perhaps nd the strained ties. But of course, Li Hua had shut the door on that fantasy, rejecting her overture and cutting off any hope of reconciliation.

Now? Lin Miao had given up on the Lin family entirely. She was in survival mode.

Li Li needed to go—imdiately. If the police caught wind of Li Li’s existence and started asking questions, Lin Miao would be utterly ruined. Li Li had to disappear before that could happen. And crucially, Li Li could never find out about the plan Lin Miao was quietly crafting—to shift the bla entirely onto Gu Shan and Zhang i.

Because Li Li, for all her volatility, had a mother’s instinct. She was laser-focused on securing her son’s future—getting him born into the right class, as a child of the compound elite. There was no way she would sit back and let Gu Shan take the fall. If Gu Shan went down, so would her ticulously laid plans for her son’s glorious ascent.

That was why Lin Miao would wait. Wait until Li Li had left, and then… act.

The money? It would have to be that hidden 3,000 yuan. Gu Shan wouldn’t be needing it anyti soon. And frankly, giving it to Li Li was a form of karmic irony—after all, it would end up feeding the very love child Gu Shan had fathered in secret.

Poetic justice. Lin Miao certainly didn’t feel guilty about it.

Decision made, Lin Miao got off the bus and imdiately made her way back toward the compound. She had barely taken a few steps when two uniford police officers stepped out from behind a corner and stopped her.

She blinked. Were they here again to ask more questions?

Annoyance flared, and she snapped, “If you’re here to ask about the sa thing again, I’ve told you already—it has nothing to do with . I refuse to answer.”

The officers exchanged a glance. One of them, voice clipped and grave, said, “Miss Lin, this isn’t sothing you can just refuse. Your parents, Gu Shan and Zhang i, are suspected of fabricating food poisoning symptoms to falsely accuse and extort Li Hua and others. We’ve officially opened a case. Zhang i is already at the station. You’ll need to co with us.”

Lin Miao felt her pulse spike—but she clung to one last shred of optimism. Maybe this was just routine. Maybe it would be fine. She forced herself to appear calm and cooperative, adjusting her expression into one of righteous indignation.

“Of course,” she said smoothly. “I’ll cooperate fully. If it turns out my parents did sothing wrong, I would never cover for them. Never.”

She sounded so righteous, so noble, that the nosy residents of the family compound, who had co out to watch the spectacle, began murmuring approvingly.

Lin Miao had managed to salvage a shred of dignity. But no matter how it looked, the Gu family’s downfall was now all but certain. And Lin Miao—whether she liked it or not—was being taken to the station.

She climbed into the police car, forcing herself to think positively. If she could just survive this storm, she would change her life completely. No more sches, no more risks.

She would go to the capital, find Gong Zhan, and start fresh. A quiet, steady life. That, in itself, would be a triumph—one even better than what Gu Zi had.

Because really, Gu Zi’s life only looked glamorous. Underneath it all, she was little more than a glorified nanny. She hadn’t even borne Su Shen any children. No matter how much money Su Shen earned, it would all go to those three kids.

Of course, those kids were sweet to Gu Zi now—they relied on her. But children grow up. Ti changes everything. And when they were grown? They weren’t even her blood. How good would they really be to her then? Gu Zi was destined to grow old alone, childless, grandchildless. A tragic figure in an elegant house.

But Lin Miao? She still had a chance. As long as she and Gong Zhan weren’t officially divorced, she would always be his wife. She could still turn things around.

If she went back to him, sincerely and with humility, she could be more than a stepmother—she could be a proper wife. A lady of the house. This temporary suffering? It was nothing. She would get through it.

The police car rolled on through the city streets. Lin Miao’s gaze, once panicked, was now steely with determination. As they neared the station, a dusty black Santana sedan sped past them, overtaking their car with a sudden growl of the engine.

Her eyes followed the car instinctively, and for a mont, the fire inside her flickered. In her gaze was a complex swirl of admiration, longing, and sothing dangerously close to awe.