Oops, I’m the Scumbag Ex in Her Storyline - Chapter 3

In the book, Bei Lanlan’s beauty took up a full two pages of description.

But now that Xin Yan had seen her in person, she felt even that wasn’t enough.

It was hard to imagine someone could look like this—flawless as white jade, radiant as spring blossoms. Her mere existence challenged the aesthetic standards of the entire human race. If Jing Chu truly looked anything like her, Xin Yan could somewhat understand why the original Xin Yan would rather keep a stand-in at home than let her go.

She could understand the original.

But she didn’t understand Bei Lanlan.

Just as Bei Lanlan’s fingers reached the clasp of her bra, Xin Yan bolted forward, grabbed the shirt discarded on the floor, and hastily draped it back over her.

Blushing furiously while fumbling to find the sleeves, Xin Yan stammered, “It’s not what you think! I—I was drunk! I didn’t mean to… A-Anyway! You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of everything about getting you back to school!”

She had never helped anyone dress before. Sure, she had worked with teenage girls during her time as a community worker, but those girls were fourteen or fifteen and could take care of themselves. The result of her inexperience was that she nearly dislocated Bei Lanlan’s arm from tugging too hard.

Bei Lanlan visibly winced from the pain—but all she did was frown slightly. Then she shook off Xin Yan’s hand and slipped her arm into the sleeve by herself.

As she calmly buttoned the shirt back up, she glanced at Xin Yan with suspicion. “Are you serious?”

Xin Yan nodded. “I am.”

“Why?”

Bei Lanlan looked genuinely confused. When Xin Yan treated her badly, she never questioned it. But the moment Xin Yan showed kindness, she grew wary—as if something bad was sure to follow.

Poor thing… the original Xin Yan had emotionally damaged her so deeply that even without an open confrontation, Bei Lanlan no longer knew how to trust.

A sense of mission surged up in Xin Yan.

She gazed at Bei Lanlan with such tenderness that it gave her goosebumps. Bei Lanlan shivered and took two steps back.

Xin Yan: “…”

Embarrassed, she forced herself to drop the expression. After a few seconds of dramatic inner build-up, she softened her voice into something that sounded like wounded introspection and said, “Because I’ve finally figured it out.”

She tilted her head up at a 45-degree angle, trying to gaze wistfully out the window—only to realize she was facing a wall. She quickly turned around to the other side.

Bei Lanlan: “…”

With her pose fixed, Xin Yan continued, “I gave half my childhood and my entire youth to Jing Chu. If she hadn’t gotten engaged, I might’ve kept living in the fantasy that she’d accept me someday. But now… she shattered that illusion with her own hands. And it’s time for me to move on.”

When she turned back around, Bei Lanlan was staring at her with a completely blank expression. If there was any change at all, it was a subtle flicker of sarcasm in her eyes.

Xin Yan: “…”

She silently told herself there was still time.

Clearing her throat, she adjusted her posture and dropped the theatrical tone. This time, she spoke sincerely:

“I want to apologize—for the time I’ve stolen from you. And for…”

She wanted to say ‘your life’, but when she met Bei Lanlan’s eyes, the words caught in her throat.

Some wrongs can’t be forgiven. Some apologies, when heard by the victim, feel more like insults than comfort.

“I’ll never treat you like that again,” Xin Yan said. “What happened tonight was a mistake—one that will never happen again. I’ll do my best to make it up to you. Once your life is back on track, I’ll help you leave.”

Bei Lanlan hadn’t spoken a word the whole time.

Only when she heard the word leave did her expression shift slightly. Then it vanished—so fast Xin Yan thought she’d imagined it.

Nervously, she waited for Bei Lanlan to say something. The room fell into silence.

Finally, Bei Lanlan opened her mouth and said—

“Oh.”

Xin Yan: “…”

With that indifferent tone and deadpan face, even if Xin Yan had carved her heart out on the spot, Bei Lanlan wouldn’t have believed a word.

Cradling her bruised pride, Xin Yan left the room. But just as she was about to close the door behind her, she remembered a scene from the novel and turned back to say:
“Before you sleep, close the window a bit. Last time your shoulder got cold, and you were in pain for three days. Don’t forget again.”

Then she shut the door behind her.

Inside, Bei Lanlan stood frozen.

Xin Yan was referring to something that happened half a year ago, during early spring. The temperatures had fluctuated wildly, and Lanlan had slept with the windows wide open, thinking the fresh air would feel nice. It did—until the next morning, when her shoulder was in excruciating pain. She endured it for three days at home before finally asking the housekeeper to take her to the hospital. The doctor prescribed a medicated patch, and just one application had taken the pain away.

Back then, Xin Yan wasn’t even home. Lanlan had never mentioned the incident to her—not just because Xin Yan hated her leaving the house, but also because she detested unfamiliar smells on her.

So she knew.

Not only did she know—she remembered.

Bei Lanlan stared at the door for a long while, then curled her lips into a bitter, mocking smile.

So what if she knew?

So what if she remembered?

She already knew what kind of person Xin Yan was. She had seen through her long ago.