Oops, I’m the Scumbag Ex in Her Storyline - Chapter 9
During dinner, Xin Yan repeated the earlier conversation to the butler, instructing him to inform the driver and the rest of the staff in the house. With Bei Lanlan no longer confined indoors all day, everyone’s workload would lighten significantly.
After speaking to the butler, she looked across the dining table at Bei Lanlan.
“When do you want to start?” she asked.
Dinner was Western-style, and Bei Lanlan was absentmindedly cutting her steak with a fork. The question snapped her out of her daze, and she blurted out, “Today.”
Xin Yan: “……”
She turned to glance at the pitch-black window outside, then looked back at Lanlan.
“Let’s not,” she said. “It’s not safe for a young woman to go out at night.”
Bei Lanlan: “……”
Even from several meters away, she could see the teasing glint in Xin Yan’s eyes. It was a little embarrassing—but oddly, she wasn’t angry. Straightening her back, Bei Lanlan calmly put down her knife and pretended not to catch the implication.
“Then tomorrow, I guess.”
Xin Yan raised an eyebrow. “That soon? Don’t you need time to review your materials?”
“I can study at night when I get home. Senior year courses aren’t difficult—I can manage on my own,” Bei Lanlan replied. She then casually lifted her gaze, checking Xin Yan’s expression before adding, “Professor Xu came today to deliver my textbooks. Since you said she could come in, I let her in.”
Xin Yan blinked. “Yes, I did say that. You don’t need to explain it to me. This is your home too. If you want to bring friends over, that’s totally fine. Just… don’t let them spend the night.”
The vivid scenes in the original novel were steamy to read, sure—but if they played out in the room next to hers, Xin Yan was sure she’d never sleep well again.
Xin Yan lowered her head and continued eating. Not knowing what she was thinking, Bei Lanlan grew a little frustrated. She mumbled softly, “I wouldn’t bring anyone back to stay over.”
The dining table was annoyingly large. Bei Lanlan’s voice was just quiet enough that Xin Yan couldn’t hear it clearly. She frowned and leaned forward slightly.
“What did you say just now?”
Bei Lanlan replied, “…Nothing. I’m full.”
She stood up and started heading upstairs. Xin Yan, still sipping her water, swallowed quickly and called after her,
“Don’t lie down right after eating. Go take a walk first, then come back.”
Bei Lanlan gave her a dubious look. Was she serious? But judging by Xin Yan’s firm expression, she wasn’t joking.
Wide-eyed, Bei Lanlan found Xin Yan more meddlesome than ever. She used to only interfere with her wardrobe—now she wouldn’t even let her return to her room after dinner.
Xin Yan ate much more slowly than Lanlan. Head down, she calmly sliced her food. Bei Lanlan glared at her for a few seconds, then huffed and stormed outside.
Xin Yan delicately cut a piece of steak and placed it in her mouth with perfect elegance.
In a way, Bei Lanlan wasn’t all that different from a moody teenager. Well—there was one big difference: this teenager belonged to her.
Which meant Xin Yan could discipline and educate her as she pleased—and she’d never have to hear that classic teenage protest: “Why do you care? You’re not my mom!”
No, she wasn’t Bei Lanlan’s mom.
But she was her legal wife.
This reversal of power dynamics? Absolutely delicious.
________________________________________
Bei Lanlan did as instructed and took a lap around the courtyard before returning.
By now, night had fully fallen. But the garden was lit by path lights, the street by lampposts, and distant houses glowed with neon signs. Though she had lived here for four years, always watching this view through her bedroom window, tonight was the first time she saw it differently.
Without the barrier of glass, she could feel the playful evening breeze brushing past her cheeks, like a mischievous kiss stolen from the wind.
Cool, refreshing, and fleeting.
In that moment, her original mission seemed to shift subtly. She paused, eyes following the direction of the wind, before eventually taking another step forward.
It was a quiet night. Once Bei Lanlan returned to her room, no one could hear a sound from her again.
Meanwhile, Xin Yan took her time enjoying a relaxing bath before returning to the paperwork her former self had left behind. Slowly, methodically, she began working through it.
If this goes well, she thought, I’m definitely writing a book once I retire.
Title: “Starting from Zero: Becoming a CEO”
At around eleven, Xin Yan let out a yawn and closed the drowsiness-inducing document. She double-checked her work schedule for the next day—no important meetings, nothing more difficult than this afternoon—and finally felt at ease enough to go to bed.
The lights went out. And, as always, within three seconds, any worries were wiped clean from Xin Yan’s mind as she drifted into deep, contented sleep.
While she slept soundly, on the other side of the ocean, someone stared at a black phone screen, wide awake.
Noticing that she’d been staring at her phone for quite a while, the woman beside her walked over and asked curiously,
“Are you waiting for someone to call?”
Setting the phone down, the woman turned to the one across from her and smiled faintly. Her voice was far gentler than when she spoke to Xin Yan the night before.
“No. You’re flying back tomorrow—why aren’t you sleeping yet?”
It was 1 a.m. there, 11 p.m. in China. The other woman dried her half-damp hair with a towel.
“I thought getting engaged would earn me a few days off.”
Sensing the slight complaint in her tone, Jing Chu stood up, expertly taking over the towel and helping to dry her hair.
“You’re an actress. Great actors never get a break.”
Jing Chu’s movements, unlike her voice, were clumsy and rough. She wasn’t good at taking care of people—but she enjoyed doing these small things. It seemed like fluffing someone’s hair or straightening their clothes could enhance her sense of happiness as a fiancée.
After three seconds of patient tolerance, Kong Zhiluo stepped back and took her towel back.
“Enough. I’ll finish drying it myself. You should go to bed too. No need to come see me off tomorrow—just focus on your solo concert.”
She gently pushed Jing Chu back into her seat and leaned down to plant a soft kiss on her lips. Damp strands of short hair brushed against her cheek as Jing Chu closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Kong Zhiluo was already gone, smiling as she disappeared into her own room.
Staring at the closed door, Jing Chu was struck again by a thought—Kong Zhiluo was the most striking woman she had ever seen with short hair.
She would never forget the day they first met. The power went out at an event, cutting the red carpet lights. While everyone else floundered in confusion, Kong Zhiluo stepped out of her car. The headlights behind her cast her in a radiant spotlight. She walked forward with confidence, calm, and indifference. The reporters on both sides were so stunned by her presence that they forgot to breathe.
They frantically hit their shutters—but in Kong Zhiluo’s eyes, they didn’t exist at all.
How enchanting.
Just like how short hair was Zhiluo’s signature, Xin Yan’s long hair had also never changed.
Thinking of Xin Yan, Jing Chu glanced at her phone again. Realizing she was being ridiculous, she tossed it aside and finally prepared for bed.