Scumbag Woman, But Pampering My Wife - Chapter 44

On the ground, Qin Chenyi watched the scene in horror.

It was Qin Chenyi who got hurt, yet the first thing Qin Jue did was pull her little lover into her arms.

Lin Yuebai pressed her forehead against Qin Jue’s shoulder, trembling as she tried to draw warmth from her embrace.

She didn’t want Qin Jue to see her in a negative light. She wanted to remain perfect, delicate, and in need of care in Qin Jue’s eyes.

“The big star is so scary, I’m a little frightened.”

Qin Jue chuckled teasingly, pulling her even closer. She snatched the riding crop from Lin Yuebai’s hand and tossed it aside.

“What happened?”

Qin Jue’s gaze shifted to the bystanders, and someone nearby immediately recounted the entire incident.

“Did you think I got trampled to death by a boar in the woods?”

Qin Jue’s tone was lighthearted as she spoke, but her words made ears burn.

“No.”

“What?”

“I didn’t think that. I was just worried you got lost.”

Only then did Qin Jue notice that Lin Yuebai was crying.

Her tears fell silently, her throat trembling with suppressed sobs. Apart from slightly reddened eyes, there was no trace of the tears that had just cascaded down her face.

She had been crying secretly in Qin Jue’s arms, but by the time she pulled away, the tears had stopped.

Qin Jue really wanted the system to see the mess it had caused—making such a perfect protagonist cry.

Lin Yuebai wiped her tears while carefully observing Qin Jue’s expression from the corner of her eye. Seeing no trace of anger, a faint sense of smugness flickered in her heart.

“I was in the wrong just now. I’ll go apologize to Mr. Qin.”

Hiding behind Qin Jue, Lin Yuebai gave a meek, half-hearted bow, her expression devoid of any real remorse. Her posture made it seem as though she were the one who had been wronged.

There was no trace of the ruthless disdain she had shown moments ago when she swung the riding crop across Qin Chenyi’s face.

Gong Man watched, dumbfounded.

Wow. What an act.

Gong Man grabbed another coconut and slurped loudly.

Who would’ve thought Qin Jue would fall for someone like this?

Qin Chenyi staggered to his feet, nearly losing his balance before barely managing to stand.

“You—you damn b—”

Before he could finish, Qin Jue’s icy glare silenced him, forcing the curse back down his throat.

Lin Yuebai murmured, “I’m sorry. I was wrong just now.”

Qin Chenyi abruptly looked up and met Lin Yuebai’s dark brown eyes, his body involuntarily shuddering.

This woman was not to be trifled with—both insane and an incredible actress.

And yet, Qin Jue, the fool, actually believed her.

Qin Jue rubbed her temples irritably, growing weary of this endless farce. She took Lin Yuebai’s hand and walked past Qin Chenyi. “The girl already apologized. Why are you still staring at her?”

Qin Chenyi’s face burned with pain, a drop of bl00d dripping from his chin onto the grass.

Damn it.

Qin Chenyi thought bitterly, Why didn’t that wild boar just trample you to death?

“You’re cursing me in your head, aren’t you?”

Qin Jue kept one hand in her pocket while the other held Lin Yuebai’s wrist, shielding her behind her. “Haven’t you bullied my girl enough? Trying to step over me now?”

Qin Jue’s tone was indifferent, almost dismissive. In the end, Qin Chenyi’s lips trembled, but he said nothing.

What a masterful reversal of the truth! Who was the one bullying whom just now?

Whose bl00d was smeared on that riding crop?

…

“Qin Jue, stop bullying me.”

Lin Yuebai pushed half of the roasted rabbit toward Qin Jue.

“I nearly lost my soul when I saw that wild boar chasing after your horse,” someone remarked.

Qin Jue finished a roasted rabbit leg while the boar’s carcass was taken away.

The pair of boar tusks were quite nice—some people enjoyed collecting them. Once polished, they took on a jade-like luster and made for striking wall decorations.

Qin Jue had no interest in such things, but when her subordinates presented them to her, she accepted them anyway.

The flickering orange campfire cast shifting light and shadow across Lin Yuebai’s cheeks, the reflection of her long lashes dancing on her face.

Today, Lin Yuebai was unusually quiet, her palms slick with cold sweat.

After finishing her roasted rabbit leg, Qin Jue noticed the unusual silence from the girl across from her.

“Had enough? Want me to roast a pheasant for you?”

“I’m full.”

After the earlier commotion, everyone had formed their own opinions about Lin Yuebai’s identity.

Truly worthy of being Qin Jue’s companion—she appeared gentle and soft-spoken, but her strikes were ruthless. Qin Chenyi had been promptly whisked away in an ambulance, sirens wailing.

System: “Detected strong negative emotions from the protagonist.”

Qin Jue thought to herself, This mission detector of yours is way off the mark.

“She whipped my father’s illegitimate son so hard he couldn’t even stand up, and you’re telling me she’s the one being bullied?”

System: “Mission criteria met. The protagonist is currently in low spirits—perhaps the host should comfort her?”

“In the original plot, the protagonist was deeply wounded after getting lost in the woods and then being bullied while the antagonist stood by and watched. These events hardened her resolve to break free from the antagonist’s control, marking a turning point in her mindset.”

Qin Jue wiped her hands with a damp handkerchief as the system tirelessly narrated the plot developments in her mind.

In short, from this point onward, the protagonist would begin to harbor deep resentment toward her, determined to bring down the entire Qin family.

What an ambitious kid.

Lin Yuebai’s eyes were unreadable when suddenly, a warm handkerchief brushed against her cheek.

The hand that wiped her face was soft and gentle, cleaning away the traces of barbecue seasoning.

The area was quiet and secluded, with a small cottage behind them serving as Qin Jue’s lodging for the night.

The estate was vast, and the noise from outside couldn’t reach them here.

A two-story house stood quietly in the distance, already tidied up, with a hot bubble bath prepared by Qin Jue earlier.

A scalding tear rolled down from the corner of Lin Yuebai’s eye.

“Will you blame me?”

Her lashes were damp with tears, and as she blinked, another drop landed on the back of Qin Jue’s hand.

Why is this girl so prone to crying?

Qin Jue pulled her onto her lap. “Blame you for what?”

“For being useless in danger, for causing you trouble, for lashing out at your brother with the riding crop without even thinking…”

Lin Yuebai suppressed a sob. She wanted to test Qin Jue’s limits—just how far would Qin Jue indulge her?

She knew some people kept lovers purely for amusement, never allowing them to meddle in work or family conflicts.

What she had done today had already crossed a line.

Her tears were partly genuine worry for Qin Jue, but she also knew she looked pretty when she cried—enough to soften Qin Jue’s heart.

The girl’s eyes and nose were red, and she sniffled occasionally, pretending to be strong as she wiped away her tears.

Qin Jue’s brow arched slightly.

An act?

She hadn’t looked like this when she was whipping someone earlier.

Two-faced at such a young age.

“President Qin…”

Lin Yuebai tugged at Qin Jue’s sleeve. “How long have you been watching me from behind?”

Qin Jue replied, “Not too long. Your arm muscles are quite toned—hitting people must hurt quite a bit.”

Lin Yuebai sniffled and turned her head away without another word, though her gaze still lingered on Qin Jue’s face.

Qin Jue wiped her hands with a warm towel.

“No more of this next time.”

“Boss Qin, I… I was just worried about you. I didn’t mean anything else.”

So being worried justified whipping someone with a leather belt?

Qin Jue couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation. “What if Qin Chenyi had bullied you? That useless thing is taller than you and weighs at least twice as much.”

Lin Yuebai nodded sullenly.

“Boss Qin is blaming me.”

She didn’t even call her “Jue-jie” anymore—just “Boss Qin,” so formal and distant.

“Yes, I am blaming you. You should’ve thought things through better in a situation like this. At the very least, you could’ve gotten him drunk, thrown a black sack over his head, and taken him somewhere without surveillance before beating him up.”

Though her words sounded reproachful, there was unmistakable amusement in Qin Jue’s tone.

Lin Yuebai’s eyes widened as she turned to look at Qin Jue. The next second, she was suddenly lifted into the air as Qin Jue wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into her embrace.

The girl looped both arms around Qin Jue’s neck while Qin Jue, gripping her coat with one hand and supporting her with the other, carried her straight into the two-story cottage.

Lin Yuebai landed heavily on the bed with a soft grunt, her already wind-tousled hair now even messier.

Qin Jue turned toward the bathroom to test the water temperature, only for her pants to be yanked the next moment as she was dragged back onto the bed.

“Can I?”

Lin Yuebai pressed a kiss to Qin Jue’s ear. “I was reckless. Let me make it up to Jue-jie.”

Her body trembled—only now was she finally shaking off the lingering panic from earlier.

More than anyone, she wanted Qin Jue safe and sound.

“Jie, hold me.”

Lin Yuebai fumbled at Qin Jue’s clothes, failing to undo them before resorting to biting at the buttons with her teeth.

A horn button snapped off its thread and fell onto the carpet.

“Wooden houses aren’t soundproof.”

Qin Jue’s eyes darkened as her fingers pressed into the dip of Lin Yuebai’s waist.

From her inner pocket, she retrieved another pristine handkerchief.

Embroidered with a crescent moon, it carried the lingering scent of agarwood and roses from being kept close to her body for so long.

She folded it neatly. “Bite down.”

Lin Yuebai clamped her teeth onto the handkerchief, her eyes hazy as she nestled into Qin Jue’s arms like a small animal.

“Mmm—”

It sounded more like a whimper now.

“You must’ve chafed the inside of your thighs at the very least today. Let me check.”

……

Qin Jue inspected her three times before confirming Lin Yuebai was unharmed.

By the end of it, Lin Yuebai didn’t even have the strength to lift her head, shivering as she tried to climb out of the bathtub.

Seeing the red marks covering her body, Qin Jue felt a pang of guilt and wrapped her thoroughly in a towel. “No horseback riding tomorrow. I’ll take you fishing instead.”

Lin Yuebai turned her head away, refusing to acknowledge her.

Not only was this woman unbothered—she’d clearly enjoyed herself.

Lin Yuebai couldn’t be bothered to humor her.

The next morning, she burrowed under the covers and didn’t wake until the sun was high in the sky, suddenly realizing she’d forgotten something.

She reached out from the blankets to find her phone and call Zhuang Lan, but a hand covered hers.

“Sleep a little longer. We’ll go back the day after tomorrow for your screen test—I’ve already spoken to your manager.”

Qin Jue held her little moon even tighter.

“Stay with me and sleep a while longer.”

Downstairs, Gong Man was nearly going crazy with worry. Last night, Qin Jue had said she wanted to discuss work matters with her, but this morning, despite Gong Man waiting punctually outside the villa, Qin Jue still hadn’t woken up.

Gong Man paced back and forth, muttering to herself, “A beauty brings calamity—now the ruler neglects his morning court.”

Her muttering grew more agitated, and her woolly perm, usually soft and curly, now seemed to bristle with frustration, making her look like a sheep frolicking wildly in a meadow.

Hearing the murmurs below, Qin Jue yawned and pushed open the door. From the balcony, she looked down at Gong Man, who was chewing on a blade of grass.

“What’s up?”

Gong Man, who had been pacing by the entrance, suddenly froze and looked up. The woman on the balcony had merely thrown on a robe, and as the wind blew, the marks on her body were unmistakable—especially the glaring red hickey on her neck.

“Y-you—have you no shame?!”

“Get to the point.”

“Come down here! You—aren’t you embarrassed?!”

Gong Man knew Qin Jue had a wild side—she had never been picky before, willing to taste anything that caught her fancy. But at least she had some sense of decency, never flaunting her exploits in front of friends.

Now, she didn’t even care about that, parading around with love bites like trophies.

A hand appeared behind Qin Jue, tugging at her collar. “It’s chilly in the morning. Don’t catch a cold.”

The girl behind her was completely shielded by Qin Jue’s figure, but the glimpse of an arm was enough to suggest last night had been anything but peaceful.

Gong Man immediately lowered her head, refusing to witness such indecency.

The front door downstairs opened, and Qin Jue stepped out, freshly washed, a piece of bread in her mouth.

“Speak.”

“Last night, you mentioned investing in a film. I thought about it—this is the most I can put in. My family keeps a tight leash on my allowance.”

Gong Man gestured a number with her fingers, and Qin Jue nodded. “That’ll do. Discuss the details with my people.”

“Lin Yuebai has strong commercial appeal. It won’t be a loss.”

System: The villain doesn’t praise the protagonist in front of friends. Don’t break character.

Qin Jue: I’m just stating facts. Lin Yuebai’s commercial value is high—investing in her guarantees massive returns.

Lin Yuebai’s merchandise and the rights to her previous dramas had sold exceptionally well. Collaborations with brands spanned chocolates, shampoo, sunscreen, and skincare—just the licensing deals alone promised hefty profits.

System: I’ll feed you lines. Just read them.

Lin Yuebai stood on the stairs, holding a bowl of porridge, watching from a distance as Qin Jue and Gong Man leaned against the door, discussing business.

They didn’t lower their voices, and the topic revolved around investing in a film—starring her.

“Lin Yuebai has strong commercial appeal…”

Little Moon herself found the praise quite satisfying.

Her body ached, drained of energy, and she leaned weakly against the railing. As she shifted, the hem of her nightgown lifted slightly, revealing a bite mark on her ankle.

Gong Man: Not many people make spy thrillers these days. My financial advisor suggested I invest, but since your little darling is so popular, it doesn’t matter. Consider it my wedding gift.

“What does your little darling think? Is she willing to star in it?”

Lines of text projected by the system appeared before Qin Jue’s eyes. Her expression cooled slightly.

This is going too far.

System: “You’ve been doing great with your tasks so far, keep it up!”

“Lin Yuebai only has a pretty face. As for acting skills… whatever, it’s not worth mentioning. If she hadn’t met me, she would have been buried long ago.”

Qin Jue leaned against the doorway, letting out a mocking laugh. Her dark eyes, veiled by long lashes, held little emotion—deep and unfathomable. Paired with the red marks covering her body, she looked like a seductive water ghost that had crawled out of a lake.

“The resources I give her—does she even have the right to refuse them? Without me, she’d be nothing out there.”

Lin Yuebai’s grip on the bowl of porridge tightened.

Here we go again. Such a venomous tongue.

System: “Task complete. The protagonist is listening from behind.”

The system felt a pang of sympathy for the protagonist. Its mission was to help Qin Jue fulfill her villainous role, but it wilted, shrinking into a trembling little ball of light shedding fur.

The system didn’t really want to hurt Lin Yuebai.

Little Yuebai was a good kid.

Gong Man: “…Alright, alright, we get it. Your little darling is the apple of your eye.”

Qin Jue replied coolly, “Anything else?”

Gong Man shook her head quickly.

Just yesterday, she had been coaxing and coddling the girl, even itching to beat up that illegitimate brother again to vent her anger for her. Now, she acted like she couldn’t care less.

But if the kid really left Qin Jue, she’d be unhappy.

What a piece of work.

Lin Yuebai, feeling unwell, lay on the grass the whole time watching Qin Jue fish. She turned her back to her, refusing to engage.

……

“What the hell are you thinking?!”

Zhuang Lan grabbed Qin Jue by the shoulders and shook her back and forth. “You have such great resources—why didn’t you tell me?!”

Qin Jue reclined in her executive chair, sipping a cup of milk tea. “I’m telling you now, aren’t I? I’ll be the producer, the director has a solid track record—everything he shoots becomes a hit. I’ve reviewed the script, and there aren’t any major issues.”

She lowered her head to scroll through her phone, logging into a side account to shower Lin Yuebai with virtual gifts. The account’s feed was filled with reposts about Lin Yuebai.

Zhuang Lan sat across from her, staring silently. “Did you have a fight with Lin Yuebai?”

“Let me remind you—I’m your boss now.”

Qin Jue didn’t even look up. “Is this how you treat your boss? If it were anyone else, I’d have fired them already.”

“…” What a lunatic.

The system wailed in Qin Jue’s mind, giving her a headache.

“It’s all my fault! The lines I gave you were too harsh. The protagonist heard you belittling her in front of others—she must be heartbroken now, wuuuuaaahhh!”

Qin Jue: “…Got it.”

The system sobbed uncontrollably for a while. “Got what?”

“Stop projecting onto me. I’ll complete the mission, but I’ll do it at my own pace.”

She flipped her phone face-down on the desk and picked up her tablet to get back to work.

The system completely deflated, retreating into a corner of her consciousness like a disheveled furball.

“But the protagonist isn’t even talking to you now, qwq”

A message from her father popped up in the chat. Qin Jue skimmed it and dismissed it without a second thought.

She had too much on her plate right now to bother with trivial family matters.

Her phone buzzed incessantly on the desk as notifications poured in. It wasn’t until the ninth call that Qin Jue leisurely picked up.

“What is it?”

“Qin Jue, what kind of attitude is that?! Do you really think I can’t control you anymore?”

Qin Jue leaned back in her executive chair, legs crossed. “Get straight to the point. If this is about your precious son getting beaten up, I’m willing to cover the medical bills. Just email the invoice to my secretary.”

The sound of an older man’s labored breathing came through the phone.

“Qin Jue, if your mother’s spirit could see this, she wouldn’t want our family line to end. You’ve had enough fun outside—it’s time to come back to work.”

The Qin conglomerate spanned multiple industries, having amassed staggering wealth last century. But fortunes change—though their vast holdings still maintained appearances, most profits now came from just a handful of projects.

“Break up with that little actress you’re keeping. Your Uncle Li’s son just returned from abroad—decent-looking with good character. Go meet him.”

Qin Jue nearly laughed at that, reclining further in her chair.

“Too busy with work for blind dates. Got a meeting soon—hanging up now.” She flipped her phone face down on the desk, switching it to silent mode.

Romance and marriage had never interested Qin Jue. Even before transmigrating here, she’d known she preferred women—though she’d never seriously considered dating one.

She didn’t want to spend money on others, nor have others spend on her. Her mind was occupied with business, with fortunes yet to be made. A heart filled with work leaves no room for flights of fancy.

Her sole hobby was listening to audiobooks—which was how she’d discovered the novel Lin Yuebai came from.

Call it fate. Qin Jue rather believed in such things—businesspeople tended to be superstitious. Since she’d taken a liking to the story and then transmigrated into it, she might as well make the most of this relationship.

She admired this little wildcat who kept biting people.

The teeth marks on Qin Jue’s hand still hadn’t faded.

Qin Jue: “No missions lately?”

The system remained silent, just shaking vigorously until fur scattered everywhere.

Qin Jue sent her secretary several product links.

“I want these clothes delivered before end of day.”

Secretary: “For Miss Lin?”

Qin Jue sent her own measurements. “For me.”

……

“I really like this.”

Lin Yuebai was studying her script—a spy thriller set abroad where she played an undercover agent infiltrating a secret organization.

Every day was life-or-death. Her current mission: during a protection detail, she needed to plant a USB drive in a certain official’s computer. What should’ve been routine turned dangerous when someone grabbed her just as she approached the presidential suite—her cover had been blown long ago.

Someone in her unit had betrayed her.

What followed was endless interrogation.

Sleep deprivation. Restraints. Days strapped to the interrogation chair…

Sometimes the surveillance feeds would cut out, plunging everything into uncertainty—her fate entirely in the interrogator’s hands.

Done right, this would be a powerful yet tragic heroine role.

Zhuang Lan propped her chin on one hand. “President Qin sent you two messages already. Not going to reply?”

Lin Yuebai: “She only wants this face anyway. When she remembers it, she’ll come find me.”

The corners of Lin Yuebai’s mouth lifted slightly. She’d long grown accustomed to Qin Jue’s abrasive manner—though the woman’s actions spoke louder, like assembling A-list crews for her film projects.

She wanted to see just how far Qin Jue would indulge her.

Lin Yuebai muted her phone and put it in her pocket.

Zhuang Lan sighed heavily. “After all, Qin Jue is our boss—we still have to save face for her. When you’re under someone’s thumb, who doesn’t suffer some grievances…”

Though she said this, Zhuang Lan’s fists were clenched tight.

Standing on Lin Yuebai’s side, she naturally didn’t want to see her suffer.

“I’ll go over the script again. It’s getting late, you should head back first.”

Zhuang Lan left Lin Yuebai’s apartment, glancing back every few steps.

She wanted to offer comfort, but the words stuck in her throat—where could she even begin?

What a pitiful child. Never much of a talker to begin with, now rendered even more silent by heartache.

Midnight.

A red sports car pulled up outside the apartment building.

A woman in a black trench coat knocked on Lin Yuebai’s door.

The ankle-length coat hugged her figure, cinching at the waist to accentuate its curve. Her legs, sheathed in black stockings, were straight and powerful, while brand-new red-soled heels clicked rhythmically against the tiled floor.

The door remained unopened.

Qin Jue keyed in the passcode and entered.

“You—”

Lin Yuebai had guessed it was Qin Jue and was about to open the door when she saw the woman stride in uninvited. “It’s chilly outside. Might you shelter me for the night?”

Lin Yuebai’s throat tightened. She didn’t want to engage. “Director Qin visiting so late—did you come to admire my admittedly pretty face?”

The black stockings encased her legs, the trench coat obscuring the view.

Qin Jue crossed her legs, perching high on the dining table. With her coat unbuttoned, it revealed a skin-tight black bustier and garter straps, a white lace garter belt cinched around her thighs.

No wonder she was cold, dressed like that.

Lin Yuebai stood frozen, her gaze helplessly drawn to Qin Jue’s legs.

She loved seeing Qin Jue in stockings—they were beautiful, irresistible.

Qin Jue’s hair cascaded loose, a small black leather dog collar around her neck, its silver chain swaying.

“Yes, I came to see your pretty face. And I wanted you to see how pretty I can be too.”

Pampering someone was troublesome, but Qin Jue didn’t mind.