Rebirth of the Villainess: I Became a Cleaner

The day Shen Yichen decided to get married, his mother vehemently objected.

"She's too clean," she said, tossing the investigation report onto his desk. "So clean it looks deliberate."

Shen Yichen flipped through the file. Su Rui's childhood background had nearly no traces: foster parents who barely existed in records, a vague primary school record, no blood relatives, and nothing to explain where she came from.

Too perfect. Too empty.

"The data is patched together," his mother said coldly. "And—there's a cleaning lady in your company who looks quite a bit like her."

He didn't think much of it at the time. His mother had always been sensitive to details others overlooked.

But then came the DNA comparison report.

Confirmed: Su Rui's biological mother was a janitor in his own company.

Lin Yueying.

—

He didn't tell Su Rui.

Instead, he arrived early at the office one morning and walked to the breakroom. Inside, Lin Yueying was quietly wiping down the base of the water dispenser. Her sleeves were rolled neatly, movements precise and silent.

Hearing footsteps, she turned slightly. "President Shen."

Her tone was calm. No panic. No flattery.

Shen Yichen walked in slowly. "How long have you been working here?"

"Four and a half years."

"You started through the cleaning contractor?"

"Yes."

"Was the location assigned, or did you request headquarters?"

She paused, then replied, "Assigned."

Her tone was as neutral as ever.

Shen looked at her. "Do you know Su Rui?"

A pause.

"She's a public figure. I've seen her on TV."

"What do you think of her?"

"She's bright. Not like most girls."

He smiled faintly. "I think you two share some features."

This time, her cloth stopped moving.

She slowly stood up, expression unchanged, but her back a bit straighter. "President Shen, what do you mean by that?"

Shen didn't answer immediately. He took a step forward, voice still mild. "You've worked in this building for years. Never requested reassignment. Always punctual, always quiet. I've seen employees who are reliable. But never this consistent."

Silence.

"Was there someone here you wanted to see?"

Lin Yueying was quiet for a long moment.

Then she lowered her head and said softly, "You already know, don't you?"

"I do."

"I didn't want to hide it. But I didn't dare say it either."

"I didn't come here to recognize her. I never intended to. I just… wanted to get close. Just once. To pass her in the hallway. That's all."

"I've watched her become famous, live under the spotlight. She's done so well. I didn't raise her. I wasn't there when she was bullied, when she cried, when she first learned to ride a bike. I missed it all."

"I don't deserve to be her mother."

"I only hoped to see her—occasionally, from afar."

She spoke slowly, clearly, never once looking up.

Shen didn't interrupt.

—

After that day, he never mentioned it again.

He made no effort to change her post or status. But he quietly had HR renew her contract each year and raise her insurance coverage. She stayed in the administrative wing, always discreet, always silent.

He never told Su Rui.

Once, she had asked: "Why is that janitor always on this floor?"

"She works quietly," he had replied. "Makes fewer mistakes."

Su Rui didn't press further.

After the wedding, he had tried bringing up her family—just once. She brushed him off.

"I don't remember. Nothing worth mentioning."

He had dropped the topic.

Even after the divorce, he still ensured Lin Yueying remained taken care of. He convinced himself it was out of decency. Or responsibility. Or simply respect for a woman who had never asked for anything.

But today changed everything.

—

Behind that ICU door, he had heard someone screaming:

"This is my life! My body!"

He froze.

It wasn't just the words—it was the tone, the rhythm, the fury.

That was not how Lin Yueying spoke.

That… was Su Rui.

He told himself she was delusional. Sick. Under stress. Losing her grip.

Then another image entered his mind.

The variety show a few days ago.

The woman dancing with Lin Xiang on stage—the one everyone thought was just a lucky janitor.

Her footwork. Her spin. The arch of her fingers.

It was exactly the same as the night he danced with Su Rui at their wedding.

That wasn't training. That was instinct.

And that instinct belonged to Su Rui.

Shen Yichen stood there for a long time.

He had always believed in logic. In evidence. In facts.

But now, for the first time, he began to believe in something else.

Soul exchange.

An absurd theory. An impossible story.

But he could no longer deny the growing voice in his head.

That woman in the ICU—she wasn't Lin Yueying.

She was Su Rui.