How To Deal With Being Transmigrated As The Scumbag Ex-Wife - Chapter 12

12: Zhizhi: If You and Xiao Yu Were Together…

Completely unaware that Ming Yin viewed her as a potential mental patient prone to episodes, Yu Qingjia looked at the little milk bun happily swinging her short legs, suppressing her jumbled thoughts and letting a smile spread across her face.

The little milk bun seemed taller since their last meeting, though her chubby cheeks hadn’t changed one bit.

By coincidence, Yu Qingjia’s dessert was a strawberry pudding. The little milk bun didn’t say anything, but her big, glossy black eyes kept darting towards it.

Kids could never resist cute, sweet treats.

Her adorable antics made Yu Qingjia smile. She pushed the pudding toward the little milk bun. “I promised to treat you to strawberry cake last time, but it’s been a while. So, I’ll give you this pudding as compensation.”

The little milk bun didn’t quite grasp “compensation,” but seeing the jiggly, cute pudding in front of her, she lit up. “Is this for me?”

“Of course.” Yu Qingjia said cheerfully. “The strawberry cake you gave me last time was delicious.”

“Thank you, Xiao Yu… Sister!” The little milk bun nearly slipped up, glancing at Ming Yin. Ming Yin, looking slightly helpless, nodded, and the little milk bun eagerly grabbed a small fork. “Then I won’t hold back!”

Carefully scooping a piece, she took a big “ahh” bite, her face glowing with sweet happiness, her little legs swinging even more joyfully.

Seeing her delight, Yu Qingjia’s lips curved. She shifted her gaze to Ming Yin.

Ming Yin’s eyes were on the little milk bun, her head slightly tilted, revealing her refined jawline. It had been nearly two months since their last encounter, and Yu Qingjia noticed Ming Yin’s jawline seemed sharper, as if she’d lost weight despite the approaching winter when most people gained.

Yu Qingjia casually remarked, “Been busy lately?”

“Not too bad.” Ming Yin said, slowly meeting Yu Qingjia’s smiling gaze. “But you, I heard your movie wrapped. Congratulations.”

Yu Qingjia was surprised. Filming had only wrapped yesterday afternoon, and she didn’t think someone as busy as Ming Yin would keep up with Weibo.

Imagining Ming Yin finding time to scroll through social media, probably with the little milk bun—made Yu Qingjia smile inwardly.

Noticing her gaze, Ming Yin raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Caught daydreaming, Yu Qingjia didn’t flinch. Leaning back confidently, she said, “Nothing, just surprised President Ming noticed.”

With the little milk bun nearby, Ming Yin’s demeanor was softer, more relaxed. She chuckled. “The app keeps pushing news about Director Yu. Hard not to notice.”

So it was just app notifications.

Yu Qingjia pouted inwardly but feigned a helpless expression. “Here I thought President Ming was following me. Guess I was flattering myself.”

If someone else had said this, Ming Yin might’ve found the teasing offensive, but Yu Qingjia’s tone was perfectly balanced, making her want to laugh. “So, is Director Yu actually following me?”

Yu Qingjia hesitated, offering an awkward yet polite smile. Ming Yin’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “If so, you can’t blame me.”

Yu Qingjia dropped the awkwardness, pulling out her phone with sincerity. “Then let’s build a friendship. Shall we add each other on WeChat?”

Ming Yin: …

That was quite a pivot, catching her off guard.

Yu Qingjia looked at her earnestly, her gaze clear and her smile polite yet genuine.

Finding no reason to refuse, Ming Yin didn’t resist and added her on WeChat.

Just after exchanging contacts, Ming Yin’s food arrived.

Notably, she’d ordered sparingly—a single main dish and a dessert, even less than Yu Qingjia’s order.

Under Yu Qingjia’s surprised gaze, Ming Yin portioned some of the main dish into another bowl and pushed it to the little milk bun, who looked up from her pudding, crumbs dotting her chubby cheeks.

Unfazed, Ming Yin wiped the crumbs with a handkerchief, saying gently, “Sister Xiao Yu treated you to pudding today, so I won’t count it against your sweets. Eat less of the main dish, okay?”

The little milk bun nodded eagerly. “Okay, thank you, Mommy!”

Seeing the handkerchief, Yu Qingjia suddenly remembered the one she’d borrowed. She’d been carrying it, but after changing clothes post-wrap yesterday, she’d forgotten it.

“What’s wrong?” Ming Yin noticed her regretful expression. “Something up?”

“That handkerchief, I washed it but forgot to bring it today. I’ll return it next time.” Yu Qingjia said.

Ming Yin recalled that night’s dazed Yu Qingjia, a smile flickering in her eyes. “No need. It’s just a handkerchief. Don’t worry about it.”

Yu Qingjia looked away to change the topic, noticing the main dish, now mostly portioned out, set aside. Realizing Ming Yin had ordered for the little milk bun, she asked, “You’re not eating tonight?”

Suddenly, she wondered if she should eat less in front of Ming Yin.

Ming Yin paused, glancing at Yu Qingjia’s meal, then smiled. “I don’t eat after six.”

No wonder she was so slim, Yu Qingjia thought, picking up her fork to eat.

The little milk bun, having finished her pudding, saw Yu Qingjia eating and lit up, hurriedly scooping food with her tiny fork, sauce smearing her fair cheeks.

The two locked eyes and burst into laughter.

Seeing her little milk bun so happy, Ming Yin’s lips curved slightly. But the next moment, her delicate brows furrowed. She turned to Yu Qingjia. “Have you ever had personal dealings with Shen Ru?”

Yu Qingjia, who’d been teasing the little milk bun into giggles, froze, her expression tightening. “No, I’ve never even met her. Is this about last time…?”

Mentioning it didn’t faze Ming Yin. Thoughtfully, she said, “I met Shen Ru recently. It seems she’s targeting you.”

Yu Qingjia’s heart stirred, but she remained composed. “Did she apologize to you?”

Ming Yin wasn’t surprised she’d guess this, nodding candidly. “Yes, but I won’t forgive her. An apology doesn’t fix it.”

“Let me guess.” Yu Qingjia said, setting down her fork, pondering. “She’s actually after me. Shenji wants a slice of the entertainment industry, so she’s proposing a truce with you, offering some market share to keep you out of it.”

Ming Yin was mildly surprised but nodded. “Exactly. That’s why I asked if you’ve had dealings with her.”

“None.” Yu Qingjia said firmly. “And I suggest you don’t trust Shen Ru. Someone capable of those tactics might be lulling you into complacency to stab you in the back.” She didn’t hide her disdain for Shen Ru.

Her plan was clear: befriend Ming Yin, and ideally, get her closer to Pan Xing to share in her protagonist aura.

Ming Yin’s fingers paused on the table. Looking at Yu Qingjia’s clear gaze, she shifted her eyes to Zhizhi. “I wouldn’t trust her. I know her better than you do.”

As Ming Yin’s biggest rival, Shen Ru’s mention elicited no emotional shift in Ming Yin’s tone, impressing Yu Qingjia.

Since Yu Qingjia had seen through it, Ming Yin didn’t elaborate, only saying, “I meant to warn you, but you already see it clearly. My mistake.”

This wasn’t just a warning—it was a heads-up to Tianyue through her, and an olive branch.

Eager to ally with Ming Yin, Yu Qingjia seized the chance. “It’s just my guess. I don’t want to assume the worst of people or think I’m that unlucky.”

Ming Yin chuckled, her dark eyes shimmering with a unique charm.

Yu Qingjia subtly looked away, spotting the little milk bun staring at them innocently, her bowl mostly empty, sauce circling her mouth like a little mustache.

The sight pained Ming Yin, her earlier amusement replaced by regret. She shouldn’t have ordered that dish.

Laughing openly at the “mustached” little milk bun, Yu Qingjia grabbed an unused silver spoon, holding its back as a mirror. “Look, what’s with this mustache?”

Seeing her funny reflection, the little milk bun burst into laughter. “Hahaha, I’ve got a mustache!” She playfully turned to Ming Yin, mock-serious. “Yinyin, what do you want for Christmas this year?”

Ming Yin, wiping the sauce off her face, said helplessly, “A little tabby cat pretending to be Santa? Keep eating.”

After dinner, Yu Qingjia parted ways with Ming Yin and the little milk bun in the restaurant’s parking lot.

“What do we say?”

“Bye-bye, Sister Xiao Yu! Be careful on the way!”

“You too, Xiao Lizhi.”

Waving at the little milk bun peering from the car window, Yu Qingjia watched the black business car pull out and blend into the night traffic.

A cold breeze swept through the parking lot. Yu Qingjia tucked her face into her collar and hurried to her car.

She needed to talk to Yu Qingyi.

In her car seat, playing with her fingers, Zhizhi suddenly said, “Mommy, can I eat with Xiao Yu again?”

Ming Yin glanced at the rearview mirror, signaling a left turn into a tree-lined road. “Hmm? Xiao Yu’s busy with work, and so is Mommy. There might not be many chances.”

“…Oh.”

Noticing her little milk bun’s deflated tone, Ming Yin glanced at her through the mirror, seeing only the round red beret. “You like Xiao Yu that much?”

“Yeah.” Zhizhi nodded firmly. “She’s gentle and smiles a lot. I think she’s really special.”

Ming Yin frowned, then said, “Xiao Yu likes you too. You can be friends.”

Zhizhi cradled her soft cheeks, sighing like a little adult, making Ming Yin want to laugh. But her next words stopped her cold:

“If Mommy were like Xiao Yu, that’d be great.”

As if struck by a thought, Zhizhi’s eyes lit up. “Mommy, if you and Xiao Yu got together, she’d be my other mommy, right?”

Ming Yin: …

Soon after Yu Qingjia and Ming Yin parted, photos of their dinner with the little milk bun hit the internet.

Yu Qingjia, long absent from Weibo updates yet constantly in the spotlight, climbed the trending list again—

#YuQingjiaNewRomanceRumor