Scumbag Woman, But Pampering My Wife - Chapter 29

Lin Yuebai stood timidly at the doorway, her eyes avoiding Qin Jue’s gaze.

She was afraid of seeing disgust on Qin Jue’s face—she couldn’t bear this person’s dislike. In fact, if possible, she wished the woman before her would keep indulging her forever.

Lin Yuebai was truly timid. She had never been treated with such meticulous care before, and she didn’t want to lose it.

Then Qin Jue saw her little moon extend a finger, hooking her pinky with Qin Jue’s own, gently pulling her inside.

Qin Jue obediently let herself be led in. Her phone had been livestreaming the entire time, and the chat was flooded with screams of excitement.

“This is so sweet! My best friend would never hook pinkies with me like this.”

“Is Little Moon about to cry? Lol, is she moved to tears?”

“I don’t care, I’m devouring this Little Moon and best friend content—it’s too sweet!”

“But Little Moon doesn’t seem very happy. Did something happen?”

“If my friend dug up my high school homework and exams, I’d cry too. Talk about trauma—I still have nightmares about handing in blank test papers during college entrance exams.”

From the livestream’s perspective, Qin Jue pulled out two framed certificates from her bag, holding them up like a magician performing a trick, one in each hand, presenting them to Lin Yuebai.

The stream abruptly ended, leaving shippers in the chat utterly confused.

“Wait, sis, you used Yuebai’s livestream just for this?”

“Watching you hustle for over an hour, only to give us a few seconds of the real deal.”

“Lmao, the possessiveness is unreal.”

“Yeah, I don’t have that kind of possessiveness over my best friend (Samoyed nibbling paw).”

“When will you lesbians stop calling your partners ‘best friends’? (Pointing fingers)”

Qin Jue flipped her phone face-down on the table and met Lin Yuebai’s stunned gaze.

The girl before her was clearly startled, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on the two framed certificates in Qin Jue’s hands, her body frozen in place.

Lin Yuebai stiffened. She knew exactly where these had come from—Qin Jue must have retrieved them from her parents’ firewood pile at home. Upon closer inspection, one could even see the edges of one certificate bore marks where mice or other creatures had gnawed at it.

So why… why had Qin Jue gone to the trouble of digging up her old certificates?

Lin Yuebai had never thought these things were anything special. She always pushed herself to be the best, and these were just minor rewards in her long journey of effort.

Her parents hadn’t cared about them, and neither had she.

Yet now, they were being treated with such reverence…

The frames alone were made of golden nanmu wood—worthy of housing priceless masterpieces.

Lin Yuebai’s eyes widened impossibly round, her usually peach-blossom-like gaze now filled with disbelief. Her lips parted slightly, her mind completely blank.

She had no idea how to react to this situation. Even the pinky that had been hooked around Qin Jue’s now curled nervously into her palm.

Time seemed to stand still at that moment. A ray of sunlight fell upon Lin Yuebai’s head before sliding onto the floor, separating her and Qin Jue into two distinct worlds.

“This is…”

“Surprised?”

Qin Jue smiled gently. Seeing that Lin Yuebai hadn’t recovered from her shock, she tilted her head curiously and carefully examined the two framed certificates.

“I think they look wonderful. Our little moon is so outstanding—I’ll hang them at home for you.”

With that, Qin Jue deftly retrieved some hooks from the storage room and paced around the room.

“They should be displayed in the most prominent spot.”

Qin Jue had excelled academically in the past and received similar awards, but no one in her family had cared. Over time, she couldn’t find them anymore.

Now, seeing Lin Yuebai’s certificates brought back memories of her own school days—those sleepless nights spent studying with her hair tied to the ceiling beam and pricking her thigh with an awl to stay awake.

Lin Yuebai wanted to stop her, but Qin Jue had already placed the frames in the study’s display cabinet, alongside photos from Lin Yuebai’s debut. In one photo, golden confetti rained down, with a single golden streamer resting on the young girl’s forehead.

“Qin Jue, I have something to tell you.”

Outside the window, the sunlight was perfect. Looking down from the windowsill, a white cat could be seen yawning lazily on the fence, its plump belly exposed as it opened its mouth wide like a roaring dragon, revealing two tiny fangs.

After arranging the frames, Qin Jue turned around. “What is it?”

Finally ready to speak, Lin Yuebai felt a wave of relief.

“Qin Jue, I’m sorry. My manager told me my brother blew up your car. The repair costs are nearly 2 million yuan. Ultimately, it’s my fault for failing as an older sister—I didn’t discipline him properly.”

Lin Yuebai was too accustomed to shouldering all the blame, even though she had barely interacted with her brother and hadn’t returned home during holidays.

But she knew Qin Jue wouldn’t care about any of that.

Businesspeople like Qin Jue only cared about results, not the process. And the result now was that her brother had destroyed Qin Jue’s car.

Lin Yuebai nervously twisted the hem of her clothes, unable to meet Qin Jue’s eyes. Her fingers tangled in the fabric, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.

The more she spoke, the more wronged she felt. She had done nothing wrong, yet here she was, apologizing.

Just like before, when Aurora’s performance hadn’t met the company’s expectations—as the leader, she had to take full responsibility.

She was used to it, wasn’t she?

As she spoke, Lin Yuebai’s eyes gradually reddened, tears welling up and threatening to spill.

The little moon was about to cry again.

Qin Jue froze. This had nothing to do with Lin Yuebai—why was she apologizing?

The system chimed in: “Allow me to remind you—you’re the villain now. As the villain, you can’t graciously forgive the protagonist’s apology! You must cruelly mock her, making her realize you’re a harsh and evil person.”

The system materialized a tiny glowing halo, trying its best to puff up its fuzzy little body like an angry pufferfish, bristling with sharp spikes.

But right now, it just looked like a glowing sea urchin.

Lin Yuebai lowered her head. “I know that car meant a lot to you. I’ll cover the repair costs.”

The little girl’s voice was thick with a nasal tone. The more she spoke, the more aggrieved she became, her shoulders trembling involuntarily by the end. She buried her face in her hands, unwilling to let Qin Jue see her in such an unsightly state.

But what did this have to do with Lin Yuebai, who was currently attending acting classes in the capital?

Qin Jue couldn’t understand why this child insisted on taking everything upon herself—her eyes were already red, yet she stubbornly clung to the blame, looking both foolish and pitiful.

Not hearing Qin Jue’s response, Lin Yuebai felt even more wronged. Part of her wished Qin Jue would harshly reprimand her, while another part longed for the tenderness Qin Jue had shown her before.

Now, all her fans thought Qin Jue and she were a couple. If Lin Yuebai were Qin Jue’s official girlfriend, would Qin Jue still be angry with her?

Finally, an almost imperceptible sigh came from above.

“You’re right. That car is indeed special to me. Did you think paying compensation would settle it?”

The woman’s low, slightly hoarse voice rang out. Lin Yuebai stiffened, wiping her tears as she peeked through her fingers to steal a glance at Qin Jue’s expression. The other woman stood in the shadows, only her red lips moving as she spoke.

Like a kitten sneaking a look.

Qin Jue leaned against the balcony railing, pulling two fruit hard candies from her pocket. She tossed one to Lin Yuebai, who caught the translucent candy mid-air like a kitten pouncing on a toy.

Qin Jue popped the other candy into her mouth, then said after a pause,

“That car really is important to me, so you’ll have to make it up to me—by going out with me, sleeping with me, and keeping me company until I’m happy again. Got it?”

Lin Yuebai held an orange-red candy wrapped in cellophane in her palm. The woman before her gave her a fleeting glance before tilting her chin up with a haughty hum.

“Your brother and parents are truly a disgrace. You’re the only decent one in that family—a rare sprout from rotten bamboo.”

As Qin Jue passed by Lin Yuebai, she pinched the girl’s chin between her thumb and forefinger, forcing her to lift her neck slightly. Lin Yuebai swallowed, her eyes downcast, shoulders subtly lowering to expose the elegant curve of her neck—like a swan offered in sacrifice.

Beautiful and fragile, lying in someone’s palm as if she could be molded at will.

Qin Jue averted her impolite gaze. “You’re pretty. Your features don’t resemble your parents at all. Are you really their biological child? Genetics are something else, huh?”

The insult carried an unusual weight coming from Qin Jue’s lips.

Lin Yuebai’s lashes trembled violently. She recalled villagers saying she didn’t look like her parents.

At first, she thought the neighbors were mocking her for being a girl. But as she grew older, she noticed the differences—her parents’ faces bore no resemblance to hers. No one would guess they were related.

Their personalities didn’t match. Their looks didn’t match. Even their bone structure was worlds apart.

Qin Jue brushed her gold-fish-patterned nails against Lin Yuebai’s chin before impulsively planting a quick kiss on her cheek.

She’d wanted to do that earlier.

The girl’s cheeks were soft, full of collagen—youth at its finest.

Qin Jue couldn’t resist kissing her again, not caring whether the other party was willing. After all, she was the villain now—wasn’t it normal to bully the protagonist?

It wasn’t on the lips, anyway.

A string of red lipstick marks suddenly appeared on Lin Yuebai’s face. She was stunned by the kiss, and before she could recover, Qin Jue pressed another firm kiss onto the collar of her pajamas, like stamping a seal.

“Honestly, you’re so naive. Crying over just a car?”

The system cheered: “You insulted the protagonist’s parents and took liberties with her. She must hate you to death now—look, her eyes are red with anger!”

Qin Jue: “Yeah, a little.”

Lin Yuebai was completely dazed by the kisses. It wasn’t until Qin Jue pinched her cheeks that the kitten-like girl finally snapped out of it.

Qin Jue cupped Lin Yuebai’s face, searching her eyes for hatred or thoughts of revenge. But she found nothing—only her own reflection in those clear, dark amber eyes.

This kid doesn’t even know how to hate someone properly?

Qin Jue ruffled her neatly combed hair into a mess. “Go do your thing. I have work this afternoon.”

Qin Jue was busy with company affairs. As a shareholder of Starlight Entertainment, she had to manage corporate matters and sort through the chaos of a startup, barely finding time to catch her breath.

Yet, she still made time to check Lin Yuebai’s Weibo.

Lin Yuebai was the only account she followed.

@Lin Yuebai: Spring sunshine today~ [Photo][Photo]

One photo showed the certificate Qin Jue had framed for her. The other was a picture of Lin Yuebai with her hair tousled and her face covered in lipstick marks.

There were so many lipstick smudges that it looked less romantic and more like a bizarre New Year’s costume.

“Okay, okay, I get it—your good friend gave you the certificate.”

“My mom asked me why someone prettier than me also studies better?”

“Genius sis, bless me QWQ”

“The second pic has me dying—who even did that makeup?”

“Bet it was the good friend?”

“Those lipstick marks look real. Did someone actually kiss her face?”

“LOL, I do this to my cat back home. Cat: I’m filthy now.jpg”

“Wow, such blatant affection—zero ambiguity.”

“Other celebs hide their relationships, but Little Moon and her BFF are just out here covered in kisses?”

“Might be the staff’s doing. Announcing a relationship is a big deal—they wouldn’t be this casual.”

“True. Maybe Little Moon and her friend are just really close.”

MoonlightShinesOnMe: So cute. Little Moon looks like a white long-haired cat yawning in the sun.

MoonlightShinesOnMe: Goddess of academics, bless me.

MoonlightShinesOnMe: Cat wink~

During the New Year break, Lin Yuebai continued her acting classes while Qin Jue sat in her office, idly toying with a palm-sized electronic dictionary.

It was decorated with colorful cat designs—the one in Qin Jue’s hands featured a white cat with blue eyes. On the small screen, lines of Russian vocabulary scrolled by.

Pressing the left button flipped the page; the right button read the words aloud.

Legs crossed, Qin Jue leaned back in her executive chair, occasionally glancing at the words and sentences.

She had studied Russian for a while before crossing over, but hadn’t reached proficiency yet.

“President Qin, we’ve produced a new batch of goods—do you really think there’s a market for them?”

Russian phrases occasionally echoed through the office. Li Shilai sat across from Qin Jue, holding an electronic dictionary for memorizing vocabulary.

She was older now and couldn’t keep up with younger people’s thinking. Her daughter was studying finance abroad and only had a vague understanding of the domestic market.

“Maybe if a celebrity endorses them.”

Qin Jue absentmindedly flipped to the next vocabulary page. “котёнок.”

Li Shilai didn’t understand. “What?”

Qin Jue: “Kitten—котёнok specifically means a little kitten. An adult cat is кошка.”

Li Shilai: “…”

Qin Jue tilted her chin up. “No need to stand on ceremony. Have some tea first.”

Li Shilai looked at the cup of Moonlight Jasmine in front of her—a jasmine milk tea with coconut jelly, popular among young people. Qin Jue had given her the sugar-free version, catering to middle-aged tastes.

What kind of proper company discusses business over milk tea?

Qin Jue’s Russian pronunciation was pleasant, though slightly unpolished. “Маленький белый кот, который любит свернуться в клубок и махать хвостом.”

A little white cat that likes to curl into a ball and wag its tail.

Li Shilai: “…”

No need to make her feel like an illiterate.

After finishing her vocabulary notes, Qin Jue tucked them into a drawer and then her pocket. “The system needs to be more refined. I’ll help promote it later—price it within students’ budgets, offer interchangeable casings, and run ads on youth-oriented video platforms. Then get a few stationery influencers to endorse it…”

Li Shilai’s company excelled in production but struggled with sales.

Li Shilai left with her milk tea. Qin Jue checked her watch, saw the time was about right, and grabbed her car keys to head out.

Her little Moon was about to finish class.

System: “…Has it ever occurred to you that, as the villain, you don’t need to build a career? You’ll just end up despised by the protagonist, then get hit by a car and scattered in pieces everywhere. Why work so hard?”

Qin Jue manually muted the system.

……

In a small northern village.

“Husband, Youzong is just a child—how could he possibly pay that much? Even if we sold our Xinjiang factory, we couldn’t cover nearly 2 million!”

Tao Qiao sat on the ground, wailing bitterly, tears of resentment streaming down her face.

It was clearly that big boss’s fault for parking his car carelessly—that’s why it got blown up by firecrackers! What kind of normal person parks right in front of the gate?

And isn’t setting off firecrackers during New Year normal? Why did the police and insurance company decide it was her son’s fault?

Where’s the justice in that?

And wasn’t the road construction flawed too? The workers didn’t leave proper parking space, and that boss deliberately parked where firecrackers could easily hit it. So why should our family be the only ones paying?

Tao Qiao tried to explain “the reasoning” to the traffic police and insurance company, both sides looking at her as if she were an idiot.

The old man sitting in the armchair, chain-smoking, glared viciously. “It’s all because you failed to raise your son properly! You turned a perfectly good boy into this mess! Let’s see how you clean this up!”

Tao Qiao wailed in frustration again. Her son had been smart since childhood and even had a knack for business—though he hadn’t made any money and had instead lost a fortune. But wasn’t it Lin Yuebai’s money he had spent anyway?

Lin Yuebai wasn’t even her own daughter, so what was the harm in her son taking a bit of money from her?

Her son might not be cut out for academics, but he was definitely destined for business success.

Once he made it big, wouldn’t Lin Yuebai come crawling back to them?

Clenching her teeth, Tao Qiao thought to herself—since Lin Yuebai and her son weren’t even bl00d-related, why not just pair them up?

Yes, that was it. Didn’t Lin Yuebai want to be a big star? Big stars must have money. If she got together with her son now, Lin Yuebai would definitely have to pay them back!

Lost in her thoughts, Tao Qiao suddenly found the strength to stand up from the ground. Wiping the tears from her face, she stomped her feet and pulled out her phone.

Yes, she was going to expose it all.

Expose that Lin Yuebai was involved with her son—that Lin Yuebai was nothing more than her son’s child bride.

Once the media caught wind of it, wouldn’t that little wretch have no choice but to comply under public pressure?

The old man in the armchair, his eyes clouded with smoke, muttered, “First, I’ll figure out a way to get Youzong out of detention. He must be suffering in there, not eating or sleeping well… This afternoon, you and I will go burn some offerings to our ancestors—lots of money.”

……

System: “Are you buying that for me?”

The System stared at the delicate little cake in the display window.

Qin Jue: “Lin Yuebai’s class is almost over. I’m going to pick her up.”

The System wanted to remind Qin Jue that this didn’t fit her villainous persona, but then it watched as Qin Jue bought two cakes—giving the most exquisite, beautiful mango one to the System.

The System devoured it in one gulp.

Only a simple strawberry cream cake remained, clearly not as delicious as the one the System had just eaten.

Munching happily, the System curled into a little ball of light in the depths of its consciousness.

So easily bribed.

Qin Jue placed the strawberry cream cake and a cup of hot milk tea in the storage compartment before driving into the villa district, timing it perfectly to arrive just as Lin Yuebai’s class ended.

The tutor Qin Jue had hired for Lin Yuebai spotted the familiar car from the window and smiled, opening the door to greet them with a handshake.

Qin Jue: “Thank you for taking such good care of our Yuebai.”

She shook the tutor’s hand warmly. “Yuebai has a natural talent—she just needs a bit more technique. I’ll work harder to find more resources to help her improve.”

Lin Yuebai stood beside Qin Jue like a child waiting to be picked up, surprised that she had come.

This tutor, whom others struggled to meet even with lavish gifts and might still be turned away, now carried no airs at all.

“Lin Yuebai’s posture and enunciation are both excellent. Though she hasn’t had formal training, her acting has a natural spark. She’s born to be an actress—it’s a shame she wasted time on dance before.”

The tutor praised Lin Yuebai from head to toe, her Song brocade shawl draped elegantly over her shoulders as she shook Qin Jue’s hand with a jeweled ring on her finger.

Qin Jue said gently, “The previous company did cause some delays, but considering the boss has already been sentenced to over a decade in prison with all illegal gains confiscated, let’s just leave it in the past.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

After discussing some investment matters with the professor for a while, Qin Jue prepared to leave. She nudged the back of Lin Yuebai’s hand and said, “The professor just praised you. Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”

It felt more like a parent bringing along a child.

Lin Yuebai’s ears and cheeks burned as she murmured, “Goodbye, Professor Yang. I’ll visit you again tomorrow.”

She was already twenty years old—no longer a child—yet here she was, being reminded by a parental figure to wave and say goodbye to her teacher.

The teacher surnamed Yang leaned casually against the door with a warm smile. “The director said your audition was perfect. I knew you’d do well.”

Stepping into the warm car interior.

Lin Yuebai found herself holding a cup of hot milk tea and a strawberry cream cake in her hands.

White chocolate had been crafted into two delicate little wings behind the strawberry—adorably exquisite and delicious.

Qin Jue: “I wasn’t sure what flavors you’d like. You’ve worked hard in class—why don’t you try some first?”

Lin Yuebai cradled the small cake, reluctant to ruin its perfection. “Thank you.”

Qin Jue seemed to ignore the thanks. “What did you have for lunch? Were you hungry? The teacher praised you—said you’re exceptional and work very hard. What reward would you like?”

That tone again—the one used to coax children.

As Qin Jue turned the new car key, a finger swept through the cream, leaving a cool streak along her cheek.

The next moment, that sweet, soft cream was licked away by an even softer tongue.

“Qin Jue,” Lin Yuebai murmured, “the way you’re talking to me today… it’s exactly how I imagined my mother would sound in my childhood dreams.”