Oops, I’m the Scumbag Ex in Her Storyline - Chapter 2

By the time Xin Yan finished throwing up and came out of the bathroom, the room was already empty.

She collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, one hand pinching her nose as she tried to sort through the mess of memories in her head.

She remembered the plot quite clearly. She even had the general social connections and basic information of this body. But when it came to specific details—like where she had been drinking, what she ate yesterday morning, or what exactly she said when she proposed to Bei Lanlan four years ago—she had no memory at all.

It was like she’d only read the story summary. As for the detailed chapters? Sorry, access denied.

Xin Yan: “…”

Great. She probably wouldn’t even last three days before someone figured out she’d been “swapped.”

Anxiety and a throbbing headache took over. She had no idea how much the original had drunk, but even after vomiting so much, her head still felt like it was going to explode.

Xin Yan had always been a teetotaler. She thought alcohol didn’t taste terrible, just… weird. And now she’d discovered a new downside:

It stank.

The smell clinging to her body was indescribable and driving her mad.

She really wanted a shower—but her limbs were limp and uncooperative.

Just as she was struggling to get out of bed, the phone next to her suddenly rang. Normally, Xin Yan was a very patient person, but in moments like this, her mild OCD took the lead.

Already on edge, she realized the original owner had horrendous taste in ringtones—an overly dramatic, painfully loud piano piece that kept blaring insistently. When she finally grabbed the phone, she saw it was an unknown number.

Annoyed, she answered: “Who is this?”

There was a pause on the other end. “Xin Yan?”

“It’s me. Who are you?”

This time, the silence lasted even longer. When the voice spoke again, it had gone cold. “Call me tomorrow.”

Then the line was cut.

Xin Yan stared at the phone, completely baffled.

You called me. Didn’t say who you were. And then you hang up?

Are you mentally ill? It’s not like I owe you money.

She tossed the phone aside and slowly made her way to the bathroom. As she sat beside the tub waiting for the water to fill, her mind wandered back to the call. She tried hard to recall that familiar voice—until it finally clicked.

It was Jing Chu.

—

Xin Yan felt like she was going insane.

The original owner had saved every contact in her phone—except for Jing Chu’s. Because she had memorized Jing Chu’s number by heart and didn’t need to save it.

Xin Yan sat there, dumbfounded, realizing she had vastly overestimated herself.

Forget three days—she hadn’t lasted even thirty minutes before being exposed.

Of all the people in the world, the original Xin Yan might not recognize anyone… except Jing Chu. She didn’t even need to hear her speak. Just sensing a shift in the air would’ve told her Jing Chu was nearby.

Fortunately, the warm water and clean skin helped her mood. Lying back in the tub, Xin Yan calmed down.

Maybe she was overthinking it. Even if someone realized she wasn’t the original Xin Yan—so what?

The original was a nationally ranked heiress, inheriting a massive fortune from her deceased parents. Most people her age were successful thanks to their family; she, however, was successful on her own. Countless people wanted to get close to her for her wealth and status. No one had the time or incentive to prove her identity. As long as her money was real, no one cared.

And besides, the odds of being discovered were slim.

The original had no living family. While others were still in school, she was already managing a company. Her personality had always been unpleasant, and she knew it. She’d never bothered to make friends. The only person who had ever truly gotten close to her was Jing Chu.

No friends. No family. A white moonlight who lived overseas.

Which meant—there was no one around who truly knew her.

That realization lifted Xin Yan’s spirits. She could use that fact to slowly change her “personality.”

And what better excuse than Jing Chu’s engagement?

Before transmigrating, Xin Yan had worked six years in community outreach, dealing with all kinds of people. Her greatest skill was adapting. She could gradually let “moody, erratic Xin Yan” fade into the background and replace her with “repentant, reformed Xin Yan.” It wouldn’t take long before everyone believed she had truly turned over a new leaf.

There was just one problem… Even if she rewrote the plot, Bei Lanlan was still her wife.

Well, that wasn’t too hard to fix either. All she had to do was draw up a divorce agreement. Bei Lanlan would probably sign it without a second thought.

But… Xin Yan didn’t want it to end so easily.

Lying in the tub, staring up at the round light overhead, Xin Yan sighed.

Bei Lanlan had once been such a pure, kind-hearted girl. Her family was modest. Before her mother fell ill, she juggled studies and part-time jobs to ease the burden. After her mother got sick, she obediently followed every command the original Xin Yan gave her—even dressing in Jing Chu’s old clothes and sitting motionless beside the piano like a puppet.

She could endure things others couldn’t, not because she was greedy for money, but because she knew how to be grateful.

Though she never said it out loud, she was genuinely thankful to the original Xin Yan. As long as Xin Yan never said stop, she would have played that puppet forever.

Such a kind, pure, filial girl—emotionally tormented for four whole years.

Even if the worst part of the novel hadn’t happened, her personality had already been distorted. If Xin Yan simply let her go now, who knows what she might do?

Two years ago, when the original came home in a bad mood and found her attending class, she exploded with rage. From that day on, Bei Lanlan dropped out. She’d been just one year away from graduating.

Now she had no education, no social life, and had been caged for four years. Her dreams and ambitions were probably long gone. And with that devastatingly beautiful face—the kind that made Xin Yan’s heart race just thinking about it—plus the suitors the book described in detail, a blackened Bei Lanlan could toy with them all.

But an unblackened Bei Lanlan? She’d probably be devoured until there was nothing left.

Still staring at the ceiling light, Xin Yan’s gaze slowly hardened with determination.

—

Just one wall away.

Bei Lanlan sat stiffly in her room, staring silently at the pitch-black window.

In the past, after something like this, she would’ve cried all night. But now—aside from shedding two tears during the initial struggle—her eyes remained dry.

She couldn’t tell the difference between strength and despair anymore.

Suddenly, a knock came at the door.

Xin Yan was incredibly nervous. She had changed into fresh clothes and was now standing at Bei Lanlan’s door, unsure where to put her hands or feet. When she figured the timing was right, she raised her hand to knock again—

The door opened.

Facing the sudden appearance of Bei Lanlan, Xin Yan’s throat clenched.

The opening line she had carefully prepared was forgotten. The memory she was trying so hard to suppress suddenly came surging back.

Before that image could fully return, Xin Yan blurted out, “Do you want to go back to school?”

Bei Lanlan looked at her, as if trying to figure out what kind of game she was playing. But her expression revealed nothing. After a moment of silence, she said, “Yes.”

Xin Yan breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Good. She was still willing to talk.

Bei Lanlan stepped aside. Xin Yan didn’t hesitate, walking in and starting to explain her plan.

“You were officially withdrawn, but if I pull a few strings, we can switch that to a temporary leave. In the meantime, I’ll hire a tutor so you can catch up—”

Halfway through her sentence, Xin Yan’s voice hitched again.

Because Bei Lanlan had suddenly taken off her shirt.

Xin Yan was stunned. “What are you doing?”

Bei Lanlan’s hand rested on the clasp. “You asked me, didn’t you? If I wanted to go back to school.”