Scumbag Woman, But Pampering My Wife - Chapter 36

That evening, Lin Yuebai had dinner with the Jing family, stepping into the unfamiliar villa for the first time.

Unlike Qin Jue’s home, this place lacked the antique charm. There were no pretentious fish ponds filled with expensive goldfish like Qin Jue would have. Instead, the air here was thick with the scent of wealth, making it clear that the Jings had an unrelenting hunger for riches.

The opulent architecture was dazzling, and Lin Yuebai subtly tightened her grip on Qin Jue’s wrist. Her fingers brushed against the sandalwood beads wrapped around it.

Qin Jue whispered, “Don’t be nervous.”

Zhang Wen walked ahead. “Yuebai, I’ve prepared a room for you upstairs, right next to Xinxin’s. That child—I wanted to talk to her properly, but who knew she’d…”

Angry, Jing Xin had stormed off and still hadn’t returned. But that was just her temperament—impulsive and spoiled beyond measure.

Lin Yuebai merely smiled faintly. “It’s my fault for suddenly intruding on Mom and Dad’s family…”

Qin Jue glanced at Lin Yuebai’s expression and inexplicably caught a whiff of tea in the air.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that Lin Yuebai wasn’t as fragile and helpless as she seemed. Yet, whenever Qin Jue studied her downcast eyes and gentle, unthreatening gaze, she found herself moved by that hint of vulnerability.

System: “Is there a chance we’re the villains here?”

Qin Jue: “?” Not my line right now.

System: “I fed your fish when I got home and saw that palace drama investment on your desk.”

Qin Jue: “…” Such a thoughtful system.

She recalled that palace drama—a project her acting coach had recommended. The director had immediately cast her as the standout female antagonist, a cruel and haughty imperial consort.

The plot followed the heroine’s rise from the lowest rank of concubines to the position of imperial noble consort. Unlike typical harem stories, there was no happy ending with the emperor. Instead, after he continued holding selection ceremonies despite claiming to love her, the heroine poisoned him and seized the throne for herself.

Lin Yuebai played the malicious second lead—a noble-born woman who tormented the protagonist, looking down on everyone and abusing servants at every turn.

A role completely at odds with Lin Yuebai’s real personality.

Qin Jue remained silent throughout the meal, giving Lin Yuebai space with her newfound parents.

After dinner, Jing Yuanjie pulled Lin Yuebai into his study. The fifty-something chairman’s temples were already streaked with white.

“There’s little I can give you,” he said. “And I know nothing can make up for the hardships of your first twenty years. Take this card—if you ever need anything, just tell me.”

Along with the bank card, he handed her several car keys.

They were luxury vehicles, comparable to Qin Jue’s daily rides—though Qin Jue’s choices leaned toward understatement.

Jing Yuanjie still wanted to say something, but his gaze fell on the pigeon-bl00d ruby necklace around Lin Yuebai’s neck, and he ultimately closed his mouth.

Jing Yuanjie: “In any case, if there’s anything you need from Mom and Dad in the future, just ask. And if you have time…” Come home more often.

Lin Yuebai wasn’t used to receiving familial affection. She stood there awkwardly, the bright ceiling light glaring down on her, amplifying her discomfort.

Her father’s thoughts were simple and pure—since Lin Yuebai was the daughter of the Jing family, she deserved all the best things.

Company shares, cars, houses, storefronts, gold bars from the safe…

Whatever Jing Xin had, Lin Yuebai should have a share too.

Qin Jue had no interest in what was happening in the study. She stood in the courtyard, a piece of hard fruit candy in her mouth.

Qin Jue had no interest in smoking—she believed a truly disciplined person shouldn’t be controlled by nicotine.

But sometimes her mouth felt too idle, craving something to taste, so she always carried an assortment of flavored hard candies.

System: “Fantastic! Thanks to your relentless suppression of the protagonist, she has finally received her destined reward.”

The system broadcasted the scene in the study to Qin Jue in real time. Jing Yuanjie spread stacks of documents before Lin Yuebai, each sheet representing unimaginable sums of money. Midway through their conversation, the door suddenly opened, and Zhang Wen, wiping away tears, tried to slip a family heirloom jade bracelet onto Lin Yuebai’s wrist.

Qin Jue’s gaze softened, a faint smile playing at her lips.

“Yes, the protagonist has finally received fate’s gift.”

With the help of this villain.

System: “But in the original plot, even if the protagonist gains the Jing family’s recognition, it doesn’t mean she can hold her head high in front of the villain. The Qin family’s influence runs deeper, and given the original villain’s personality, you should currently have her… compromising photos.”

System: “Do you have them?”

Qin Jue opened her phone and tapped on the only saved photo in her album—Lin Yuebai burying her head under the blankets, only a few strands of hair visible.

The morning sunlight spilled over the white sheets through the window. She looked like a kitten burrowing into its nest, unwilling to face the world.

It was indeed a “bed photo”—just a photo taken on the bed.

The most revealing part was only half of Lin Yuebai’s shoulder blade, marked with a love bite.

Her face wasn’t visible. No one could tell it was her.

The system could only see a blur of pixels: “Wow, you really are a despicable scoundrel.”

Qin Jue: “Thanks for the compliment.”

The system shuddered at its host: “…” What a terrifying woman.

A citrus-flavored hard candy rolled on Qin Jue’s tongue as she patiently let her body warmth dissolve it bit by bit, the sweet and tangy taste filling her mouth.

This brand’s candies didn’t taste like artificial sweeteners—the flavoring was well-balanced.

System: “You blackmail the protagonist with those photos, demanding whatever you want from her. You even barged into her dressing room on set, forcing the female lead—dressed in imperial consort robes—to kneel and put your shoes on for you. And as the wicked villain, you ruthlessly pressed your high heel against her shoulder, even using the tip to lift her chin.”

“By the way, as an investor, you have the right to interfere with the filming progress on set, forcing your little canary to kneel under the sun over and over until her knees turned blue.”

After hearing the system’s account of these unforgivable actions, Qin Jue crushed the hard orange candy between her teeth.

The system said seriously, “Your despicable behavior only strengthened Lin Yuebai’s resolve to use the Jing family’s power to bring you down.”

Qin Jue: “…” After listening to the system, she almost wanted to turn herself in at the police station first.

Lin Yuebai didn’t stay overnight at the villa. Zhang Wen stood at the doorway, hesitating before finally tugging at her daughter’s wrist.

“Yuebai… that President Qin, did she… bully you? What exactly is your relationship with her?”

Qin Jue had previously introduced herself as Lin Yuebai’s friend. Zhang Wen had searched online, and netizens also referred to Qin Jue as Lin Yuebai’s “good friend.”

But what the industry was really like—how could she, as someone on the capital side, not know?

None of them were clean. Most who made fortunes these days had no bottom line.

Not to mention Qin Jue was a silver-spoon-fed rich second generation whose mother had died early, leaving her with a massive inheritance. Rumors said she had no talent for managing the company, spending her days indulging in pleasure, dabbling in frivolous pursuits, and changing partners more frequently than clothes.

Now, after meeting her, Zhang Wen realized her abilities were remarkable—but that didn’t prove she was a person of good character.

On the contrary, the more capable someone like that was, the easier it was for them to deceive.

Lin Yuebai smiled faintly. “Qin Jue? Just a friend.”

Suspicion flickered in Zhang Wen’s eyes as she slipped a jade bracelet she had kept for years onto Lin Yuebai’s left wrist.

It was made of premium Hetian jade seed material, glossy and smooth, pure white like mist veiling the night sky. Warm to the touch, it hung elegantly on her wrist, neither cumbersome nor cold.

Lin Yuebai said, “Without her, the person standing before you now wouldn’t exist.”

At the thought of the life Lin Yuebai had endured before, Zhang Wen’s heart ached sharply again. Tears silently rolled down her cheeks as she wiped them away.

“As long as she takes care of you… but don’t trust her too easily.”

Lin Yuebai nodded in understanding. Of course, she wouldn’t believe Qin Jue would always treat her well. Human kindness had its limits and conditions. This was just the peak of its “best before” period. She knew she had little beyond her looks—no exceptional talent. If there was anything about her that attracted Qin Jue, it was probably her non-threatening personality and her skill in acting coy.

She knew her clumsy attempts at coquetry were likely quite delectable in Qin Jue’s eyes.

Qin Jue was her benefactor. And she had no intention of letting go of her benefactor.

When Lin Yuebai reached the doorway, she saw Qin Jue leaning against the car door, admiring the moon while idly rolling a string of agarwood beads between her fingers. The scent of agarwood and roses intertwined, growing even more profound and steady in the night air.

“Not staying with your parents?”

Qin Jue arched a brow, her smirk hovering between amusement and mockery. In a voice meant only for the two of them, she said, “I thought now that you’ve leveled up into a phoenix, you’d move straight into your gilded nest without a second thought. After all, your parents have no idea you’re just my little secret—someone too shameful to bring into the light.”

The night breeze was intoxicating. Qin Jue suddenly grabbed Lin Yuebai’s collar, pulling her close until their breaths tangled.

Again.

Lin Yuebai was used to Qin Jue’s condescending taunts. Through the fragrance of agarwood and roses, she caught the sweet scent of orange candy lingering in Qin Jue’s mouth.

A person in power with authority and resources actually had a sweet tooth.

Lin Yuebai’s mind wandered—Qin Jue was kind of adorable.

“Please don’t tell my parents. I’m sorry.”

Lin Yuebai apologized, pressing her lips lightly against Qin Jue’s. Sure enough, she tasted something delicious in her mouth.

Her words were venomous, yet her tongue was so sweet.

Lin Yuebai couldn’t help but start sucking on Qin Jue’s tongue. Qin Jue still had one hand gripping Lin Yuebai’s collar, pulling her closer.

Not far away, Zhang Wen was turned away from them, sniffling.

A faint blush appeared at the corners of Lin Yuebai’s eyes. Her ears burned red, and her entire body felt like it was on fire.

Qin Jue quickly took control, and a thin silver thread stretched between them when they parted.

After their tongues separated, Qin Jue pushed Lin Yuebai into the passenger seat and slammed the car door shut.

Lin Yuebai’s hair was slightly disheveled as she leaned back in the seat, panting heavily.

She savored the sweetness she had stolen from Qin Jue’s mouth, sensing that the woman beside her seemed insincere.

Did Qin Jue think her words were too harsh?

Lin Yuebai’s eyes and brows carried a bewitching charm, tinged with an innocent, worldly desire.

Did Qin Jue not realize she had heard things a thousand times worse before?

The black sedan started, and Lin Yuebai exhaled a long breath as she stared at the speckled stars on the car ceiling. Her tongue still ached slightly.

“Next time, don’t bite my tongue.”

“Stop acting up.”

Qin Jue tightened her grip on the steering wheel and drove straight to her own home.

The system abruptly witnessed a pixelated scene—utterly baffling.

The system thought Qin Jue was truly a ruthless villain. No normal person would kiss someone right in front of their parents’ door.

And bite their tongue, no less.

The system detected damage to the protagonist’s tongue. Though the protagonist’s emotions had always been difficult to gauge accurately, getting hurt surely meant she was upset.

The system declared, “Rein in your perverted vibes. I can smell it.”

The system only wanted Qin Jue to bully the protagonist as per the mission—not to encourage any extra cruelty.

Qin Jue: “Fine. I’m on the highway right now. Go ahead and electrocute me—might as well find a new host.”

System: “…” Are you insane?!

…

Jing Xin knew there was no place for her at home tonight.

She turned off her phone and tossed it onto the passenger seat. She had asked the housekeeper and learned that Qin Jue and Lin Yuebai were having dinner at her parents’ place. Her usually stern father had deliberately opened a fine bottle of wine and toasted Qin Jue multiple times.

A cold smile tugged at Jing Xin’s lips, her eyes glinting darkly.

If she wasn’t her parents’ only child, then so be it.

Fine. She didn’t want leftovers anyway. If she, Jing Xin, wasn’t their biological daughter, then let them dote on their real child.

Whatever, whatever, whatever… An invisible hand seemed to squeeze Jing Xin’s heart as she followed the GPS off the highway, turning onto a rural road.

“What kind of dump is this? Damn, I can’t believe Lin Yuebai could stand living here.”

Why couldn’t someone like her just stay in the village forever? Marry some local man, have a chubby baby, and spend her whole life farming. Wouldn’t that be better?

Why did she have to intrude into Jing Xin’s life?

Heavy, exquisitely crafted diamond earrings dangled from Jing Xin’s earlobes as her long nails tapped impatiently against the steering wheel.

A rose-red sports car came to a stop at the entrance of Xiaobei Village.

The ground was covered in yellow dirt, and Jing Xin’s high heels refused to touch the soil. She clicked her tongue in disgust before finally grabbing her purse and phone to step out of the car.

With a sharp thud of the car door closing, she arrived at the gate of a remote little courtyard.

The sun was already setting, casting an orange-red glow over the layered mountain ridges, making them look like upside-down strawberries. But anyone who had lived here would never associate plump, juicy strawberries with this dry, resource-scarce village.

So… this was where she was supposed to have lived.

A wave of nausea rose in Jing Xin’s throat as she stood before the iron gate. The ground was scorched black, as if something had exploded there.

A large wolfhound, its body bearing burn scars, was tied up by the gate. It barked furiously at the stranger, flecks of foul-smelling saliva flying with every snarl.

“Who is it? Who’s there now?”

Tao Qiao stormed out of the house, gripping a kitchen knife. “I’m telling you, we’ve got no money left! Take my life if you want—my son’s locked up in detention, and I’ve got nothing left to lose!”

She wore worn-out clothes, an oil-stained apron tied around her waist. Though her words were fierce, her eyes betrayed pure fear and timidity.

Jing Xin stood at the gate, purse and phone in hand, staring at this woman. A shiver ran down her spine.

She spent over a million a year just on skincare. Now, face-to-face with this rural woman, she was momentarily stunned.

They didn’t look alike, but there was an inexplicable connection between mother and daughter. Locking eyes with her, Jing Xin could sense something familiar—an unsettling kinship.

Her skin crawled.

An absurd thought crossed her mind—if she really was this family’s biological child, why had she been sent to live a life of luxury with the Jings?

“Who the hell are you?!” Tao Qiao shouted through the iron gate. “You here for money? Get lost! Scram!”

Jing Xin: “No, I’m not here for money.”

Through the gaps in the gate, she could see the wreckage inside—as if the place had been ransacked.

Of course. She’d heard that Qin Jue’s car had been torched, and the insurance company had covered the loss. But insurance companies didn’t operate at a loss—they had entire departments dedicated to squeezing compensation out of the perpetrators.

Qin Jue had played her cards well. She kept her hands clean while others did her dirty work.

Lin Yuebai deserved to die. Qin Jue was no saint either. And now that her parents had their real daughter back, Jing Xin had no intention of returning.

Prideful people didn’t bend for anything. Jing Xin was arrogant, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew exactly who to hate.

Looking closer, she noticed bruises on Tao Qiao’s face—her lip was still swollen from a beating.

Jing Xin: “Lin Yuebai isn’t your real child.”

Her voice was low, venomous—like a serpent slithering up from hell. “I am. I should be calling you Mom.”

In the midst of her fury, she had calmed down. “Mom, why don’t you tell me… how did the mix-up happen?”

Jing Xin’s appearance was terrifying. Tao Qiao’s head buzzed, but then she noticed the expensive clothes on the other woman and recalled the refined, wealthy couple she’d seen at the hospital twenty years ago.

Right, her biological daughter would help repay the debts.

What bond could possibly compare to a child’s attachment to their family?

Tao Qiao completely missed the hatred hidden in Jing Xin’s eyes. “It was all just a misunderstanding back then, truly a misunderstanding. The house is a bit messy now—please don’t mind it. Come in and sit.”

Jing Xin: “Alright, thank you, Mom.”

If she wasn’t going to have peace, neither would these two.

…

Qin Jue: “…”

The system shivered. “So Jing Xin found evidence that the couple deliberately switched the babies? And the nurse they bribed?”

Sometimes, only a madwoman can deal with idiots.

Qin Jue stood at the dressing room door, raising her phone to snap a photo of Lin Yuebai’s profile in an extravagant imperial consort costume.

System: “Damn, sis, you’re so calm. Was this part of your plan all along?”

Qin Jue: “Jing Xin’s personality is too rigid—she breaks easily. She wouldn’t bother with elaborate schemes.”

In the original novel, after suing the couple, Jing Xin left the country alone to pursue her art career in Europe. She refused most of her parents’ help, yet within a few years, she made a name for herself—she truly had artistic talent.

But she never returned to China and never resumed acting.

The system had been too focused on the protagonist, overlooking many details from the original novel.

Lin Yuebai sat before the vanity with her eyes closed as the makeup artist applied eyeshadow.

As the villainess, her makeup was far bolder and more striking than the female lead’s. Lin Yuebai usually wore muted colors, so the sudden shift to vibrant red made her look especially flamboyant.

The makeup artist worked swiftly, finishing the look before hurrying off to attend to other actors. The system urged Qin Jue to proceed with the plot.

Lin Yuebai lifted her skirt as she rose from the stool, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The jade and gold bracelets on her wrist clinked softly.

Her gown was woven from silk brocade, its hem embroidered with soaring cranes and sprawling peonies—the very picture of opulence.

A golden phoenix hairpin adorned her elaborate updo, layered with pearls and gemstones. Strands of pearls dangled as hair ornaments, rustling faintly with every movement.

The production had spared no expense, using real materials. Some of it had even been funded by Qin Jue’s money, at the system’s suggestion, to stay truer to the original story.

Qin Jue sat perched atop the dressing table, legs crossed, her red-soled high heels swaying slightly in the air.

The flash of red flickering in and out of view made Lin Yuebai’s throat tighten.

“President Qin…”

Today, Qin Jue wore a beige suit with a silk lace blouse underneath, revealing a glimpse of collarbone.

Compared to the typical office attire, her style was far more relaxed—and far more luxurious.

Casually picking up a prop silk flower, Qin Jue twirled it between her fingers. Lin Yuebai’s throat grew even drier.

“These are new shoes. They’ve probably rubbed my feet raw. Check for me.”

Qin Jue braced her hands on the edge of the table, legs still crossed, toes pointing forward—a silent command for Lin Yuebai to kneel and inspect the blisters.

Lin Yuebai instinctively dropped to one knee, the layers of his garments cascading like blooming petals around him—

As if guided by some unseen force, he found himself cradling the red-soled high heels.

They were unmistakably new, the soles pristine without a single blemish, making one wonder if they’d been changed into specifically for this car ride.

The shoes were beautiful, yet undoubtedly a form of torture for the feet.

Her fingers brushed against Qin Jue’s ankle, noticing it was covered with a thin layer of stockings.

Qin Jue seemed to know she always looked at her ankles—before, it was black stockings paired with black suit pants, but now, her palm touched stockings the same color as skin.

The outer side of her big toe and little toe were indeed rubbed red, though not yet to the point of blistering.

The dressing room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, the noise outside unable to penetrate here.

Lin Yuebai gently rubbed the redness on Qin Jue’s foot with her fingers, her breathing slightly faster than usual. “I have alcohol and ointment here. Should I apply some for you? Though it might be a bit inconvenient through the stockings.”

Lin Yuebai didn’t realize that, lost in thought, she was idly stroking the sole of Qin Jue’s foot.

Before she could stand to fetch the ointment, the other high heel—still on Qin Jue’s foot—lightly rested on her shoulder.

Lin Yuebai froze: “…!”