After Scumming The Eldest Lady Of A Wealthy Family - Chapter 3
Chapter 3
“Wen Yan? Wen Yan?”
Wen Yan snapped back to reality and saw Fang Sihui looking at her with concern. “What’s wrong? You look awful.”
Getting caught lying by Xie Buchi and nearly ruining the goody-two-shoes persona she had worked hard to maintain for two months left Wen Yan feeling complicated. Faced with Fang Sihui’s concern, she simply shook her head.
“She’s just jealous,” Gao Yu interjected. “Some people keep trying to cozy up to the rich girl, always looking for a way in, but get the cold shoulder every time. Now she’s all bitter about it.”
This was the advanced class. Most students were focused on studying. Except for a few whose grades were slipping and might be reassigned after finals, nobody had time to stir up drama.
Unfortunately, Gao Yu was one of those about to be transferred.
Fang Sihui scoffed, “Weren’t you the one who insisted on being Xie Buchi’s deskmate and stole Wen Yan’s seat?”
Gao Yu slammed her desk and retorted, “Who wants to sit next to Xie Buchi? That spoiled princess is nothing but trouble. Wen Yan should be thanking me for taking the fall!”
“Oh, so selfless of you,” Fang Sihui sneered. “Then why don’t you give the seat back to Wen Yan?”
“You think I’ll switch just because you said so? Dream on.”
She knew Wen Yan wanted to sit next to Xie Buchi, so there was no way she’d switch back. It wasn’t just that she disliked Xie Buchi—she hated Wen Yan more.
Besides, Zhang Hao was so annoying. She didn’t want to sit with him again. Let Zhang Hao and Wen Yan suffer together!
As long as they were miserable, she’d be happy.
“The midterms are coming up,” Wen Yan calmly returned to her seat, her gaze light as it swept over Gao Yu. “Whether you get to keep your seat won’t be up to you anymore. Instead of obsessing over who I talk to or what I do, maybe try focusing on your grades?”
“Otherwise, when you get reassigned next semester, you’ll have to sneak over from another class just to spy on me. That’d be embarrassing, wouldn’t it?”
She flashed Gao Yu a smile. “Right, Gao Yu?”
“You—!” Gao Yu turned red with fury, slammed her foot on the ground, and buried her head on the desk.
Wen Yan had hit a nerve. Every semester, class placement was based on grades. Gao Yu had already fallen out of the top 100. If she couldn’t break into the top 50 by the finals, there was no way she’d stay in Class 1.
It was all Wen Yan and Xie Buchi’s fault! If those two hadn’t transferred in, she’d have ranked higher!
At First High School, the curriculum was fast-paced. Class 1’s pace was the fastest. They were nearly done with the entire high school syllabus. The second half of the semester would begin 18 months of review sessions.
The first half of sophomore year was the last breather for this year’s students. For now, PE, music, and art teachers were “still healthy.”
The last class in the morning was PE. Since the track was wet, the whole class went indoors instead of splitting into their selected activities—cheer, martial arts, track, badminton, basketball.
They avoided the morning group run, but not the indoor laps. Because they’d skipped earlier, they had to run two extra laps now.
After six laps around the badminton court, the teacher finally announced free time. The students collapsed around the gym, panting heavily.
Wen Yan, thanks to two years of nonstop school and commuting by bike and stairs, had good stamina. The six laps left her tired but not winded.
But the rich girl was another story. Her usually pale skin had turned bright red. She sat down on the steps, panting heavily, completely disregarding her image.
Wen Yan even noticed her fingers trembling slightly.
Daily runs were already pushing Xie Buchi’s limits—six laps was too much for her.
Fragile princess, Wen Yan thought, amused. Looks delicious, even.
Her lungs felt torn open. Every breath was painful, metallic with a hint of bl00d. Her abdomen throbbed, her head swam.
Xie Buchi clutched her lower stomach, trying to breathe. When she finally regained a bit of strength, she tried to stand—but her legs gave out, and she fell forward.
But pain didn’t come. A hand caught her arm. Her forehead landed against something soft. Her other hand instinctively clutched someone’s uniform.
The uniform was old, washed many times—soft and slightly faded. It smelled faintly of lavender.
“Princess, are you done groping?”
Xie Buchi suddenly realized how compromising her position was. She stood up abruptly, pulled her arm free, and stepped back, lips pressed into a line.
“No need to be so defensive,” Wen Yan patted her wrinkled uniform and handed her a bottle of water. “I wanted to get you a drink, but figured water’s best when you’re dehydrated.”
Yeah right. It was just the cheapest.
She’d spent only 1 yuan out of her 5-yuan allowance—enough leftover for two meals.
Seeing Xie Buchi didn’t move, Wen Yan unscrewed the cap, grabbed her hand, and shoved the bottle into it. “I got it warm so your stomach won’t hurt.”
Honestly, she just liked warm water herself, but after seeing Xie Buchi’s state earlier, maybe it worked out after all.
Xie Buchi stared at the bottle like it contained poison, not water.
Wen Yan coaxed, “Drink it. It’s a thank-you gift. No poison, promise.”
After a few seconds, Xie Buchi took a stiff sip.
Wen Yan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching her drink. Her gaze mischievous, she suddenly said, “If you’re on your period, don’t push yourself. Intense exercise can be dangerous, you know.”
Xie Buchi choked violently. Wen Yan quickly stepped forward to pat her back, hiding the schadenfreude in her smile.
“So careless! Can’t even drink water without choking?”
Xie Buchi coughed until her eyes watered, glaring with watery black eyes.
Maybe it was the humiliation, or maybe she sensed the amusement Wen Yan couldn’t fully hide from her voice.
After a moment, she threw out a seemingly unrelated sentence: “Her grades are far worse than yours.”
Wen Yan knew what she meant.
Torn between playing dumb and saving face, she met Xie Buchi’s eyes for a few seconds before shrugging. “Grades don’t matter.”
“Mr. Zhou said it’s possible, not guaranteed. If I spread rumors and it’s not true, it’ll look bad. And if it is true but the school hasn’t announced it yet, I could get Mr. Zhou in trouble.”
It sounded like she was protecting Mr. Zhou, not withholding the scholarship news to reduce competition.
Xie Buchi said nothing, just kept staring.
Wen Yan looked back for a moment, then turned away.
Guess the rich girl doesn’t take any losses, she thought.
Fine, she’d lost this round. Changing the subject, she said, “By the way, I told the teacher you weren’t feeling well. He said you could rest in the classroom.”
Xie Buchi was silent for a few seconds before muttering a stiff “Thanks,” then walked off with the bottle.
Wen Yan watched her disappear down the hallway, clicking her tongue.
Wow, just a wild guess, but I nailed it.
Might have to take back the “fragile princess” nickname. Running six laps on her period? Xie Buchi was tough.
Cold, stubborn, proud—and way too concerned with saving face.
The two-hour lunch break was fine for students who lived nearby. For others, commuting home was exhausting.
But for someone like Xie Buchi, it just meant sitting in a warm, comfortable car—probably without feeling a single bump.
Only when time was tight would she lower herself to eat at the school cafeteria.
Wen Yan arrived at the cafeteria fifteen minutes before class ended.
“Aiya! Xiao Wen, why so early today?” asked Auntie Chen, surprised.
“Had PE last period, then free time. I told the teacher I’d come help out early,” Wen Yan replied cheerfully.
“Oh, no need to push yourself—go rest!” Auntie Chen said as she handed her a large braised chicken leg. “Here! Try this, your Uncle Chen made it today!”
Wen Yan waved her off. “That’s too expensive. Just save me whatever leftovers.”
Sweet-talking, diligent students always got affection—especially when they were also poor and hardworking. Auntie Chen was touched.
“Eat it! It’s just one chicken leg. You’re so skinny! You can’t just study and save money all the time. What if your health collapses?”
Wen Yan laughed, “You’ve already fattened me up! My mom asked if I got kidnapped by a master chef!”
Auntie Chen playfully hit her. “Stop talking nonsense. Eat while it’s hot.”
Wen Yan obediently dug in, praising every bite, making both Auntie Chen and Uncle Chen beam with pride.
The school offered many work-study jobs—library, office cleaning, lab cleanup. Cafeteria paid the least and was the most tiring, but it came with food.
Some students were too embarrassed to take cafeteria jobs. Not Wen Yan. In two months, she was already a favorite among the kitchen staff.
They liked her so much they wouldn’t even let her do hard labor and kept feeding her snacks.
She planned to keep this job long-term. The food she got here was more nutritious than anything she could afford with her wages from other jobs.
One new staff member asked, “Is that Auntie Chen’s granddaughter?”
“No, she’s a student doing work-study.”
“Work-study comes with chicken legs?”
“Pfft, no—she’s just really likable. Poor kid, though. Her mom’s sick, her dad ran off with the money. Her sister tried to stop him, fell down the stairs, and got crippled. The whole family depends on her. She even works after school.”
“Poor thing… A senior living like that. At least we can help her a little with leftovers.”
The cafeteria closed at 1 PM. Wen Yan had already eaten half her fill earlier, and stuffed herself again after.
Too full to walk it off, she stayed to help clean. When she left, they gave her two hot soy milks and three boiled eggs.
She returned to class around 1:40. Fang Sihui was doing practice papers. Wen Yan handed her one soy milk.
Fang Sihui looked shocked. “For me?”
“Of course. I didn’t forget what you did for me today.”
“I just hate those two anyway,” Fang Sihui said, sipping the soy milk. “But thanks!”
Wen Yan didn’t sit yet. She walked over and placed the last soy milk on Xie Buchi’s desk.
She was too full—couldn’t drink another drop. Rather than waste it, she figured she might as well give it to her.
At 1:50, Xie Buchi walked in just as the bell rang. She saw the soy milk immediately.
She looked up. Wen Yan, head down doing her practice problems, suddenly turned, caught her gaze, and smirked with a raised brow.
Xie Buchi looked away, fingers brushing the warm cup. After a pause, she didn’t return it.
She held the cup for a while, then finally pulled out the straw.
But just as she was about to poke through the seal, she heard the sound of an empty straw slurping—glancing up, she saw Fang Sihui in the front row tossing her finished soy milk into the trash.
Xie Buchi’s straw bent sharply in her hand. Her expression turned cold.
Wen Yan, twirling her pen while brainstorming, suddenly stopped when the desk shook—soy milk slammed down on her test paper, some spilling at the edges.
She looked up in confusion—Xie Buchi was already back at her seat, ignoring her completely.
Fang Sihui returned and asked, “What’s up?”
Wen Yan blinked. “I was about to ask the same thing.”
Things were fine just a second ago…
She peeled the plastic wrap back and saw the straw folded into a neat 90-degree angle.
Didn’t want it? Fine. But did she have to bend the straw like that?