Scumbag Woman, But Pampering My Wife - Chapter 51

The private room Lin Yuebai was in didn’t reek of alcohol. In front of her was a glass of baijiu, only half-finished.

She hated social gatherings.

Even more, she hated drinking. Yet, as if struck by a sudden thought, she tilted her head back and downed the remaining half-glass in one go.

Lowering her head, the corner of her eye flickered with amusement.

She knew Qin Jue would come.

The director, mid-conversation, heard a loud thud—the A-list actress beside him had slumped face-first onto the table, completely unconscious.

The director was stunned.

!

She’s already drunk?!

Half of that glass was just water!

His expression twisted into something indescribable. The others at the table also turned their gazes toward them. Lin Yuebai closed her eyes, pretending not to notice.

The director fell into a long silence.

“Zhuang Lan, maybe you should take Miss Lin back to the hotel to rest?”

Zhuang Lan had just seen Lin Yuebai send someone to make a call.

“No.”

Zhuang Lan’s expression was equally priceless. “Let her stay here and ‘sleep it off.’”

The director: “…You two really don’t have any personal grudges?”

Zhuang Lan’s lips twitched. “No, Miss Lin just has a low alcohol tolerance. Apologies for the scene.”

Lin Yuebai flushed easily from drinking—just a sip of alcohol, and her cheeks would bloom pink like peach blossoms. She could cry on camera in two seconds flat, let alone now.

In an instant, her eyes already glazed over with a drunken sheen.

She picked up another glass, tipped her head back, and emptied it.

Zhuang Lan, who witnessed the whole act: “…”

No wonder you’re famous.

Zhuang Lan bit back a laugh. She’d seen plenty of celebrities resort to irrational antics to catch the attention of investors behind the scenes. It never fazed her—after all, it was just a game of willing participants.

But now, thinking of Qin Jue, Zhuang Lan suspected this particular backer might be a lovestruck fool.

Both of them were in deep.

“Lin Yuebai, stop drinking.” No amount of water could get you drunk.

…

“Did someone force her to drink?!”

Qin Jue’s red sports car screeched to a halt outside the building. Her brows were furrowed, her expression terrifyingly grim.

System: “In the original plot, you weren’t supposed to come.”

Qin Jue didn’t pause her steps, casually deflecting, “I know she’s drunk. Isn’t this the perfect chance to bully the protagonist?”

The system considered this. “In the original, the villain did hire people to take compromising photos of the protagonist drunk. But the protagonist stayed quiet and didn’t give them any material. Try to complete this plot point too.”

Qin Jue’s efficiency reassured the system.

Pushing the door open, Qin Jue was met with the noisy chaos of the private room. A bubbling lamb hotpot sat in the center, filled with pickled cabbage and bl00d sausage.

Director Xue Nan was sipping orange juice. Across from her, two local women chattered in thick accents, “You’ve no idea how much my sis invested in this film—just hiring foreigners alone cost a fortune…”

Qin Jue stepped inside, kicking aside two empty liquor bottles that rolled at her feet.

The room fell silent at the sight of a stranger. Under Qin Jue’s razor-sharp glare, everyone shut their mouths.

“What’re ya doin’? Wrong room?”

The female boss with the heavy accent slammed the table. “Don’t care if ya got the wrong room—ya gotta drink with us now!”

Qin Jue: “…”

The system was also stunned.

“In the original plot, the protagonist was taken to a scene of wine and revelry. Though I’m not familiar with the original storyline, that particular scene definitely didn’t involve drinking on a heated brick bed.”

Qin Jue’s clothes were grabbed by a hand. Lin Yuebai was so drunk she could barely stand, her body collapsing weakly onto Qin Jue, her hand landing precisely on Qin Jue’s shoulder.

“Jiejie, you’re here.”

Lin Yuebai was completely intoxicated, her burning lips brushing against Qin Jue’s neck.

Xue Nan simply covered her face, refusing to look.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Did Lin Yuebai even realize how fake her acting was right now? If this were shown publicly, the audience would mock it as cringe-worthy.

Yet Qin Jue was completely blind to it.

Qin Jue’s heart softened abruptly. “Be careful.”

She scooped Lin Yuebai up in her arms, her gaze turning sharp. “Did you force her to drink?”

Zhuang Lan: “N-no, she barely had any.”

Half the glass was just water—how could she bear to make her only artist drink with others? She’d rather drink herself than let Lin Yuebai do it.

With a complicated expression, Zhuang Lan picked up a bite of pickled cabbage and stuffed it into her mouth. “We filmed several chase scenes with foreign actors in the woods today—it was exhausting. President Qin, you should take her back to rest.”

The girl in her arms became docile once held. Her arm had been grazed during filming, leaving behind a faint trace of bl00d.

Qin Jue bundled Lin Yuebai into the car, only to be shoved into the passenger seat the next second.

Her back slammed against the seat, her vision blurring as a sudden weight settled onto her lap.

The system shrieked.

Qin Jue sucked in a sharp breath. “Little Moon, calm down.”

She had no experience dealing with drunks. In the past, whenever friends got drunk, she’d just drag them to a hotel and arrange for someone to take care of them. She disliked interacting with intoxicated people. In the original plot, Lin Yuebai had been unusually quiet when drunk, silently shedding tears if upset.

She certainly hadn’t acted like she wanted to devour someone.

The red sports car door closed, and suddenly, Qin Jue’s cheeks were cupped by two hands.

Lin Yuebai was sensitive to alcohol—even a little made her mind foggy, leaving her tipsy but still rational.

Right now, she was rational. Rational enough to realize Qin Jue had been in a bad mood when she arrived.

She refused to let Qin Jue leave her for any reason.

She had inquired about Qin Jue’s past and knew she had no boundaries—playing with anything and everything.

She wouldn’t allow Qin Jue’s gaze to wander to others, nor would she let her comply with her family’s demands to meet random people for arranged marriages.

Lin Yuebai had been abandoned all her life. Her birth parents never fought to find her, her adoptive family never treated her well, and even after struggling through training camp and finally debuting in a group, she was ultimately discarded by her agency.

She never wanted to be abandoned again.

Lin Yuebai cradled Qin Jue’s face, her eyes fixed on those lips that were always speaking.

She couldn’t hear what the other was saying—only that Qin Jue was trying to push her away.

She refused to be abandoned.

Lin Yuebai admitted she was like a rat hiding in the sewers, knowing her status would never see the light of day…

But she refused to accept it.

Qin Jue’s lips stung as Lin Yuebai bit down without restraint, eagerly forcing her tongue into her mouth.

The little girl was no longer the docile and obedient child she once was—her kiss carried full force.

Qin Jue could only comply, patting Lin Yuebai’s back in an attempt to soothe her.

Caught off guard by the sudden, forceful kiss, Qin Jue complained inwardly to the system,

“This is what you called ‘well-behaved and quiet’ when Lin Yuebai gets drunk?”

The system was also losing it. “The original story wasn’t like this!!”

All it could discern through a blur of pixelation was that the host was being sexually harassed by the protagonist.

A scan detected varying degrees of bleeding on Qin Jue’s tongue, the inside of her mouth, and her lips.

The system was promptly shoved into a blackout room to watch cartoons.

Lin Yuebai’s kiss was fierce and relentless, but after a long while, her body softened, collapsing weakly into Qin Jue’s arms.

The faint taste of alcohol mixed with the metallic tang of bl00d in Qin Jue’s mouth wasn’t exactly pleasant.

She reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a cup of lime juice.

“Drink some to sober up.”

Suddenly—a scalding teardrop fell onto the back of Qin Jue’s hand.

Her little one was crying.

Qin Jue couldn’t understand why Lin Yuebai was so upset. “Did someone in the crew bully you?”

Judging by what she had seen earlier in the private room, the odds of someone forcing Lin Yuebai to drink were far lower than someone pressuring her to eat an extra bowl of rice.

Lin Yuebai buried her forehead against Qin Jue’s chest. Her eyes were clear—no trace of sorrow or drunkenness.

“I heard from your friend that your family is setting you up on a blind date. The guy’s a returnee with a master’s degree, an MBA, comes from a wealthy family, and is popular with girls.”

Qin Jue’s hand, which had been stroking Lin Yuebai’s back, paused.

The dagger was finally unsheathed.

Though Qin Jue had been caught off guard by the kiss, her brain hadn’t stopped working.

Upon reflection, Lin Yuebai’s acting might pass on-screen, but in front of her, the cracks were always obvious.

This whole thing reeked of using drunkenness as an excuse to act out.

Qin Jue pressed a soothing kiss to her forehead. “Do you want me to marry a man?”

The mere thought of a man standing beside Qin Jue made Lin Yuebai feel nauseous, her heart twisting into a murky swamp of darkness.

“If that’s what you want, who am I to object?”

Lin Yuebai’s tears soaked into Qin Jue’s clothes, dampening a small patch of fabric.

Not just a man—Lin Yuebai couldn’t stand the idea of Qin Jue with anyone, man or woman, other than herself.

Unaware that her little act had been seen through, Lin Yuebai continued, “It’s fine. I don’t need a title. As long as you keep me in your heart and visit me sometimes, that’s enough. As long as people know I’m yours, they won’t dare look down on me. Good opportunities will come my way first…”

“Just being under your protection is enough. I’m content.”

Her words claimed contentment, but inside, she was already stabbing that faceless, nameless blind date candidate to death a thousand times over.

Qin Jue: “…You’re right. Get off me so I can drive.”

Lin Yuebai: “…”

Seeing the momentary blankness on Lin Yuebai’s face, Qin Jue ruffled her hair. “I won’t go on that blind date, and I won’t marry some random person.”

I crossed into this novel because of you.

Tear tracks still glistened on Lin Yuebai’s cheeks. She was good at this—one look, and Qin Jue’s heart ached.

Qin Jue slid into the driver’s seat. “Hotel address.”

Lin Yuebai gave one.

“Impressive. Even drunk, you remember where you’re staying.”

Lin Yuebai realized she had misspoken and simply turned her head away, refusing to look at Qin Jue.

If Qin Jue accused her of being drunk, Lin Yuebai wouldn’t admit it.

She absolutely wouldn’t.

Qin Jue said, “I wouldn’t consider anyone else as a marriage partner besides you.”

Lin Yuebai’s head, which had been turned away, snapped back.

Qin Jue continued nonchalantly, “You’re only twenty now, still two years short of the legal marriage age. Focus on your work and studies, and don’t get distracted by nonsense.”

……

“Stop overthinking all this nonsense!”

Zhuang Lan dumped a pile of dresses beside Lin Yuebai. “Hurry up and change. The photographer for this magazine cover has incredibly high standards in the industry. If it weren’t for President Qin’s influence, this opportunity wouldn’t have gone to you.”

Lin Yuebai had been dragged by Zhuang Lan to shoot the magazine cover.

Lin Yuebai: “President Qin has plans with me this afternoon.”

Zhuang Lan: “Then she can wait a little longer.”

Zhuang Lan was swamped, her head spinning with tasks—she had to oversee Lin Yuebai’s magazine shoot, then get her into a qipao for a retro-style cosmetics ad set in the Republic era.

For the magazine cover, Lin Yuebai wore the moon-white spaghetti-strap dress and embroidered shawl with epiphyllum patterns that Qin Jue had prepared for her.

Against the indoor set, a full moon hung high behind her, its glow cascading over her figure. As the wind machine whirred, the epiphyllum embroidery seemed to float in mid-air, flickering in and out of view.

From a distance, Qin Jue spotted the bustling activity below. Leaning against the railing on the second-floor corridor, she worked on her tablet.

System: “No one can outwork you.”

The system still couldn’t figure out why, after getting drunk, the protagonist hadn’t just cried alone but instead climbed onto the host and forcefully kissed her.

The system shuddered, shedding fur like falling leaves.

Qin Jue skimmed through online posts trashing the coffee machine and found it somewhat amusing. Such negative publicity was easy to handle—divert attention, invite influential reviewers to test the product, and shape public opinion. The key, of course, was identifying the instigator.

“LOL, never buying celebrity-endorsed products again. The quality was so bad my mom almost smashed the coffee machine.”

“Who even uses this flaking junk? Claiming it’s exported overseas—what a joke.”

“Companies these days are shameless. All that ‘support innovation’ talk is just a scam.”

“Refund! Refund!”

“Heard it can’t even pass customs inspection… Trash confirmed.”

Qin Jue remained unfazed by the online backlash, but the system was the first to flare up. “Want me to hack into their accounts and delete all the negative comments?”

Qin Jue stopped it from acting rashly. “The more you silence them, the more rebellious people get. It’ll only make our product look worse.”

She contacted the PR team to handle the situation. She already knew who was behind it—none other than the original host’s illegitimate half-brother and father.

Using such petty tactics to pressure her into relinquishing shares in the venture capital firm.

Qin Jue’s company was still in its early stages, with limited risk resilience. Causing trouble now was a shrewd move.

Watching the host effortlessly navigate the crisis, the system felt an inexplicable sense of relief as call after call was made.

Qin Jue held her phone to her ear with her left hand, listening to the person on the other end. Her right elbow rested on the railing as she gazed down at Lin Yuebai posing for the magazine cover in the studio below.

She pulled a fruit hard candy from her pocket and popped it into her mouth.

Sugar helped sharpen focus.

After hanging up the last call, Qin Jue felt a sharp pain in her temples.

It seemed she really hadn’t engaged in high-intensity work for too long. Before transmigrating into this novel, such tasks wouldn’t have required much effort from her.

Problems that could be solved with a few all-nighters held no challenge for her.

The system chimed in: “The previous task hasn’t been completed yet.”

A fruit hard candy clicked against her teeth as Qin Jue rolled it on her tongue, savoring the sweetness.

“What?”

“You didn’t take her photo when the protagonist was drunk.”

The system had originally intended to remind its host, but the screen was completely blurred by mosaics—startling even the system itself.

Qin Jue: “So I need to get Lin Yuebai drunk once?”

System: “That’s unnecessary. The main plot point is just the antagonist secretly taking photos of the protagonist. You just need to snap a few candid shots of her in private.”

The system’s task conditions were surprisingly lenient, which caught Qin Jue off guard. “I thought you’d make me take boudoir photos of her.”

The system thought to itself, You wouldn’t actually do it anyway—only the system would suffer in the end.

Qin Jue raised her phone and zoomed in on the screen.

Lin Yuebai was draped in a dark red velvet cheongsam, lazily leaning against a curio shelf, holding a small Ru kiln porcelain jar containing melted lipstick paste.

Her satin-like long hair had been styled into retro curls, her bright eyes lively and captivating. Her slender figure evoked the image of a pampered young lady raised in a wealthy household.

The young lady sensed a gaze that didn’t belong to the photographer and looked up, her eyes locking onto a phone secretly snapping pictures.

First, she saw the dark lens of the phone’s camera and frowned instinctively. Then, she noticed the person holding it.

A sharp, displeased glare was permanently captured.

Qin Jue held the phone in one hand and waved at her with a smile.

Realizing it was Qin Jue, Lin Yuebai’s previously fierce expression instantly softened.

Like a kitten that had just bared its claws but now pretended nothing had happened, she widened her eyes in an exaggerated display of innocence.

So Qin Jue was also on set.

Lin Yuebai straightened her posture, accentuating her graceful silhouette.

The system notified Qin Jue that the task was complete.

Secretly photographed and caught by the protagonist.

Qin Jue logged into Weibo under Lin Yuebai’s account.

@Lin Yuebai: Caught in the act of sneaky photography [Image][Image]

The first image showed Lin Yuebai glaring sharply at the photographer, while the second captured her with a sheepish, guilty smile.

“Such a weird angle for a sneaky photo—definitely not posted by her manager.”

“Who even logged into Little Moon’s account? Hmm, so hard to guess.”

“Bestie, do you not have your own account??”

“Actually, bestie does have one—@Stellar Entertainment.”

“LMAO, are you trying to kill me? Stellar Entertainment manages dozens of artists, but bestie only cares about one.”

“In the first pic, Little Moon totally caught the photographer red-handed—until she realized it was bestie, hahaha.”

“She looks so guilty here. Saved.”

Most of the comments were from shippers, with the few negative remarks quickly drowned out by the overwhelming support. Satisfied, Qin Jue logged out of Lin Yuebai’s account and turned her attention to the trending scandal about the coffee machine.

The trending topic gradually dropped in rankings until several days later when major bloggers spoke out about it. Some even conducted rigorous stress tests throughout the night, confirming the coffee machine had no quality issues.

While selling products and performing stress tests simultaneously, the sales figures that evening were remarkably impressive.

Qin Jue had been extremely busy these past few days, unable to accompany Lin Yuebai on set. By the time she freed up her schedule, half a month had already passed.

With Lin Yuebai soon heading abroad for filming, their time together would be limited. Qin Jue had just wrapped up her work when, upon disembarking the plane, she heard the system’s task notification.

Settling into the production team’s arranged car, Qin Jue braced herself.

System: “I have some unfortunate news for you.”

Without batting an eyelid, Qin Jue responded, “Get to the point.”

System: “We’ve now reached the latter half of the original storyline. The antagonist’s family has arranged a blind date for her, which she wants no part of, so she plans to use the protagonist as a shield. However, during a chance encounter at a nightclub, she spots her blind date drinking and becomes smitten with his looks.”

Lin Yuebai shuddered in disgust, her face twisting with revulsion at the thought.

She had zero interest in men and wanted no intimate contact with any of them.

Just as Qin Jue anticipated.

The system continued, “You’ll need to maintain physical contact with the blind date for one full minute—emphasis on physical contact—”

“The bar will be rowdy. The protagonist happens to be there, getting harassed by a group, when she spots the antagonist getting cozy with her blind date to shake off the troublemakers. She then snaps incriminating photos of the antagonist.”

Qin Jue: “…”

Qin Jue felt carsick.

“Physical contact is mandatory?”

System: “…Just bodily contact will suffice. If it’s too repulsive, I can pixelate him for you.”

The mental image of canoodling with a pixelated blob made Qin Jue even queasier.

She highly doubted the blind date arranged by the Qin family was any good—probably just another fortune hunter.

“Fine. Just physical contact then.”

The system was surprised by Qin Jue’s immediate compliance without negotiation, inwardly sighing in relief.

Little did it know this relief was premature.

“Use your judgment. Just avoid crossing paths with the protagonist—the requirements aren’t strict.”

…

“I understand your expectations, but I wouldn’t make a good wife.”

Qin Jue swirled her non-alcoholic cocktail, taking a sip as her gaze swept over the tall, lanky man before her.

Seated across the booth, she lounged against the sofa, assessing this academically accomplished yet thoroughly mediocre candidate.

“Miss Qin, I come with sincere intentions. Our corporate alliance would produce exceptional offspring,” the man said, his eyes betraying nervousness beneath their veneer.

Facing Qin Jue—a woman known for her vast inheritance, unbridled arrogance, and inexplicable business acumen—he clearly felt outmatched.

“I’ve heard you’re close with Lin Yuebai. I’ve seen her dramas—she’s truly a gifted actress,” he continued, a flicker of avarice momentarily flashing before being carefully concealed.

“After marriage, I’d gladly invite Miss Lin to reside with us. I’m quite progressive—your personal preferences would be fully respected.”

“I heard Miss Qin studied abroad in her early years, so I assume you have quite liberal views. I’m not a conservative person myself and wouldn’t mind having one more person in the household.”

What kind of proper person would arrange a blind date meeting at a bar?

When Lin Yuebai received the message saying Qin Jue would be waiting for her at the bar, she spotted Qin from afar—the woman was intently watching a tall, slender man whose features were rather plain.

The man’s expensive tie and gold-rimmed glasses spoke of wealth, but his eyes held nothing but feigned gentleness and calculation. To Lin Yuebai, he was nothing more than trash wrapped in a gilded garbage bag.

Lin Yuebai’s expression darkened rapidly, her joy at meeting Qin Jue replaced by an indescribable fury.

She raised her phone to take a photo, desperate to know who that man was.

Through the camera frame, she saw Qin Jue touch him.

The man’s collar and pricey tie were seized by a slender, elegant hand—then, with a resounding slap, the nightclub fell into momentary silence.

Only the grating music continued to pulse through the air.

A glass shattered.

Another sharp slap followed, splashing pale pink cocktail across his face.

In the face of absolute power, all perverts sober up quickly.

Lin Yuebai: “…!”

Stunned, she barely registered the group of would-be harassers behind her who suddenly thought better of approaching.

Qin Jue: “Grabbing a collar counts as physical contact. I have mysophobia—I don’t like touching skin.”

System: “…It counts. Timer’s running.”

Qin Jue tightened her grip, nearly lifting the lanky man off his feet. “We’ve just met for the first time, and you’ve already planned out a three-person married life?”

In her past life, her status had been high enough that she rarely had to deal with such repulsive people directly.

His gold-rimmed glasses hung crookedly on his face as his body dangled like a scrawny chick.

Qin Jue had a long-standing fitness regimen—her blind date couldn’t break free.

“Miss Qin, that’s not what I meant—”

Out of the corner of her eye, Qin Jue caught the reflection in a glass on the table—Lin Yuebai behind her, camera raised.

Probably gathering blackmail material on the villain, she figured.

Qin Jue yanked the blind date forward and unceremoniously tossed him stumbling toward Lin Yuebai.

“Apologize to her too.”

Lin Yuebai: “…”