Scumbag Woman, But Pampering My Wife - Chapter 10

After Qin Jue finished delivering those melodramatic lines, she never expected Lin Yuebai to kiss her again.

The aroma of wine filled her senses, the sweetness of their tongues intertwining.

The hand holding the wineglass trembled,

and the glass rolled onto the carpet.

Lin Yuebai sat on her lap, cupping Qin Jue’s face with both hands, her eyes glistening like a little rabbit pushed to the brink.

Like a lop-eared rabbit.

Even rabbits bite when cornered.

Now, Qin Jue’s tongue seemed to be bitten—not too hard, but enough to sting.

Lin Yuebai immediately pulled away.

Just long enough to meet the system’s five-second requirement.

Qin Jue was completely dazed by the kiss, but thankfully, the darkness concealed her reaction.

Lin Yuebai sat obediently on her lap, not daring to move. She knew her position was far from honorable, and that being by Qin Jue’s side was a privilege. So she had long prepared herself for what might happen tonight.

After all, by her previous calculations, if she had to serve Qin Jue every night, it would take at least 28 years to pay off the penalty for breaching her contract.

And if she factored in the other resources Qin Jue had given her, then being at Qin Jue’s mercy every single day for the rest of her life seemed inevitable.

Every single day…

Lin Yuebai shuddered. Barely in her twenties, she was practically a blank slate when it came to such matters.

Qin Jue, of course, had no idea what the protagonist was thinking.

In her mind, the system was spinning, dancing, and setting off fireworks—louder than the clamorous music outside.

System: “Amazing! Mission complete! I knew you were the best, Host!”

Qin Jue calmly pushed Lin Yuebai off her lap.

“According to the original plot, Lin Yuebai should have escaped by now.”

So where had things gone wrong?

Qin Jue didn’t believe her actions had earned Lin Yuebai’s trust.

The system couldn’t figure it out either. “Whatever. The system detected emotional fluctuations in the protagonist. Just now, I even sensed a hint of fear in her heart.”

Qin Jue thought that if Lin Yuebai was feeling fear, she must be terrified of her—only pretending to submit because of Qin Jue’s power and influence.

After some deliberation, Qin Jue and the system concluded that things were still on the right track.

After the second sip of wine, Lin Yuebai was dismissed to the side. She stood there, a complicated, unreadable emotion flashing in her eyes.

Qin Jue didn’t ask her to keep feeding her wine.

Now both the wine and the glass lay discarded on the floor, staining the carpet red.

Had she failed to satisfy Qin Jue just now?

Lin Yuebai laughed at herself. When had she become so docile?

At the same time, a trace of resentment flickered in her heart. Women like Qin Jue—wealthy, indulged in all the world’s pleasures—grew bored of everything. Given how skilled her movements were, she must have had countless girls sitting in her lap, feeding her wine before.

System: “The protagonist’s negative emotions just spiked dramatically! You’re doing great, Host! Now she must be determined to rise to the top as soon as possible and crush you, the villain, under her heel!”

“Right now, she’s probably thinking, ‘Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west…’”

Qin Jue: “Enough. Shut up.”

She didn’t come to hang out with these rich second-generation kids solely because the system’s plot required it. She beckoned, and the red-haired girl from earlier came over.

“I saw you drinking with Lin Meimei earlier, but I didn’t want to interrupt. I never expected you’d actually get a girlfriend. Can you really handle being tied down like that?”

Qin Jue just smiled without responding and instead brought up a new TV series they could discuss.

The red-haired heiress scratched her head, her fingers idly tracing circles on the waist of the internet celebrity beside her.

“You’re talking about that modern workplace drama, right? I actually know about that—my sister’s handling the investment side. What, you want in?”

Though part of the same elite circle, the red-haired heiress usually stayed out of family business, only picking up bits and pieces during dinner conversations.

“That series is still looking for investors. If you’re interested, you can go straight to my sister. They’ve got a famous director attached—it’s guaranteed to be a hit.”

Qin Jue tapped her fingers on the leather armrest of the sofa. The redness from earlier kisses had mostly faded, leaving no trace of anything unusual except for her slightly hoarse voice.

“I heard you’re also missing a producer.”

The red-haired heiress’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, we are. Got someone to recommend?”

Qin Jue wasn’t thinking of recommending anyone else—she could take the role herself. Beyond producing, she needed control over the project’s public-facing elements. With enough investment, she’d have absolute authority on set.

She didn’t want Lin Yuebai getting bullied by random nobodies on the production team. If anyone was going to bully her, it should be Qin Jue herself—the story’s main antagonist.

The red-haired heiress immediately stopped flirting with the internet celebrity, set down her drink, and stood up to call her sister in a quieter spot, settling the matter right then and there.

Lin Yuebai, standing behind Qin Jue, overheard their entire conversation. She was slightly taken aback, her gaze toward Qin Jue now tinged with complexity.

With everything settled, Qin Jue didn’t want to waste any more time here. A single glance was all it took for Lin Yuebai to obediently follow her out.

Qin Jue mentally addressed the system: “The protagonist should be seething with humiliation right now, looking at me like I’m her father’s murderer—not trailing after me like a little kitten.”

The system seemed equally puzzled. “The original story doesn’t have detailed descriptions of this part. It should be fine.”

Qin Jue found the system a bit dim, but its cluelessness was oddly endearing.

Like earlier, when she and Lin Yuebai were drinking together, the system had automatically activated its censorship mode, blurring everything into pixelated chaos.

The memory of Lin Yuebai sitting on her lap, leaning in to feed her the wine, made Qin Jue’s lips tingle faintly—still warm, almost burning.

Her tongue still carried the lingering sweetness from Lin Yuebai’s mouth.

You should hate me.

But I hope you won’t hate me too much.

At least when I eventually die and exit the story, don’t make it too messy for the cleanup crew.

In the days that followed, Lin Yuebai heard nothing from Qin Jue.

Zhuang Lan: “The lipstick ad’s been released. Market response is good.”

Goddess Descends

Sister, Murder Me

@LinYuebai: Every application is a romantic encounter. [Photo]

The lipstick in the photo pressed against Lin Yuebai’s lips, her expression cool and detached, her aura commanding. The black dress added a sharp edge, a stark contrast to the sweet style of her former Aurora team—at first glance, one wouldn’t recognize her as the same person.

Elegant and untouchable, like a distant dream.

“Gotta say, since signing with Starlight Entertainment, our girl’s resources have skyrocketed.”

“Bought the same lipstick—round it up, and it’s like she kissed me.”

“She’s absolutely stunning, ugh. I wanna be her dog.”

“Breaking news: Aurora’s former agency just got sued.”

“??? Spill the tea??”

“Dream True Entertainment allegedly mistreated their artists. A girl under 15 was forced to lose weight, had great grades but wasn’t allowed to attend school, and ended up severely depressed—still hospitalized now.”

“Wasn’t Lin Yuebai with Dream True before?”

“I always thought she looked too thin. Maybe they starved her—seems like standard practice there.”

“Compared to that, Starlight actually seems decent…”

“Can we not bring this bad juju into her comments? Am I the only one hyped about the signed poster giveaway if you buy two lipsticks??”

“Buying it all. Hope Lin Yuebai makes bank and stays far away from that mess.”

Zhuang Lan, pleased with the lively comments, patted Lin Yuebai’s shoulder. “Your fanbase is small, but they’re loyal.”

Unlike her manager’s satisfaction, Lin Yuebai sat silently at the desk, lost in thought.

Mechanically signing autographs with a gold marker, she remained quiet.

It had been over half a month since she last heard from President Qin.

Had Qin Jue forgotten about her?

Found a new rising star already?

Of course—someone like Qin Jue could have any girl she wanted. A casual favor from her could set someone up for life.

But spending so much on Lin Yuebai, only to have her sip a little wine—wasn’t that too extravagant?

Unaware of her thoughts, Zhuang Lan leaned against the desk. “Stop signing for now. Let’s go over tomorrow’s schedule.”

Lin Yuebai obediently set down the gold marker and straightened up.

Zhuang Lan was the manager Qin Jue had assigned her. Would she report everything back to Qin Jue?

She hoped so.

Zhuang Lan: “There’s an open audition tomorrow for a new drama. I just got the script and character details. Let’s aim for the female lead.”

Lin Yuebai nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

She had no formal acting training—her past roles had just been extensions of her own personality.

Zhuang Lan: “Rumor has it the producer has full control over casting. Everyone says she’s ruthless—no room for error, no backdoor deals.”

Lin Yuebai’s mind drifted. She just needed to do her best. Who the producer was didn’t matter.

But compared to some unknown producer, she was more worried about Qin Jue.

Their chat log was empty. Since adding each other, Qin Jue hadn’t reached out once.

No contact should’ve been a relief, but…

He demanded she be available at a moment’s notice, yet never actually called her over.

How heartless.