Scumbag Woman, But Pampering My Wife - Chapter 56

In the end, Qin Jue managed to catch the girl hiding behind the little angel statue, while Lin Yuebai remained perched in the tree until the game ended.

Climbing up had been easy for Lin Yuebai, but getting down proved far more difficult. She clung to the trunk, struggling several times without success.

Standing beneath the tree with the camera crew, Qin Jue watched as Lin Yuebai hugged a branch tightly, her face practically buried in the leaves.

This was beyond embarrassing.

Finally, Qin Jue spread her arms open. “Jump. I’ll catch you.”

“Be careful,” she added.

Lin Yuebai glanced at Qin Jue’s bandaged right wrist and silently tightened her grip on the branch, refusing to budge.

Her courage had grown somewhat—if this had happened before, she might have already burst into tears. But now, she could see the faint mischief glinting in Qin Jue’s eyes.

This woman was definitely doing this on purpose.

“Jump. I’ll be fine.”

Qin Jue’s smile was warm and encouraging as she held her arms out.

Lin Yuebai hesitated for a few seconds. “But your hand…”

The live stream was still running, and the audience was in stitches.

“HAHAHAHA, so this is where Yuebai’s been hiding—up a tree!”

“Little Moon struggling to climb down but too scared to jump is exactly like my cat.”

“Her friend really didn’t think to check properly? She was literally standing right under the tree!”

“Who would’ve guessed her delicate, helpless wife could climb trees?”

“Doesn’t the crew have a ladder? Qin Jue’s wrist can’t handle any weight!”

“Even if Yuebai is light, Qin Jue’s wrist seems even more fragile.”

The comments poured in as Lin Yuebai swallowed hard, meeting Qin Jue’s dark gaze with a flicker of hesitation.

“Are you really sure your wrist is okay?”

“Of course… it’s not.” Qin Jue fetched a ladder from nearby and gestured for Lin Yuebai to climb down. “Have you forgotten how my right hand got this bad in the first place?”

The memory of their reckless behavior at the hotel rushed back, and Lin Yuebai’s face instantly burned. She quickly lowered her head and obediently descended the ladder, standing meekly behind Qin Jue like a dutiful little wife.

Qin Jue took her hand, and Lin Yuebai didn’t dare pull away, carefully massaging her wrist instead.

The pink-haired celebrity who witnessed the whole scene gave Lin Yuebai a thumbs-up.

Nearby, Zhuang Lan stared in disbelief.

Since when did Lin Yuebai know how to climb trees?

The variety show filming continued. Since Qin Jue had only caught one person, she didn’t get the best room. According to the show’s penalty rules, she and Lin Yuebai were assigned separate single rooms.

The single rooms were tiny, barely fitting their luggage.

Qin Jue hadn’t stayed in such cramped quarters since her early entrepreneurial days. She settled in, placing her laptop on her knees to work.

When the cameraman aimed the lens at her, Qin Jue shifted the screen slightly to the side.

“Trade secrets. No filming.”

The cameraman: “…”

He turned to head to Lin Yuebai’s room instead.

Qin Jue waved him back. “Just film me. Yuebai’s tired—let her rest first.”

The cameraman: “…”

Meanwhile, the system in the host’s mind, having been quietly watching cartoons, peeked out when it sensed the room was empty.

“Don’t forget your villain persona.”

The system couldn’t quite figure out its host’s thoughts. If you said she was bad, she wasn’t exactly—usually quite gentle with the protagonist, even considerate. But if you called her good, she showed no mercy when bullying the protagonist.

The system couldn’t see through this host. In fact, it was a little afraid of her.

Qin Jue tapped the last character and looked up calmly at the camera.

“It’s late. Let’s dive into some late-night talk.”

The livestream instantly buzzed with excitement.

The cameraman took half a step back—Qin Jue’s face was too striking. Her beauty was the kind bred from long immersion in elitism: sharp, bold, and unapologetic. When she smiled, it didn’t seem aggressive, but when she was alone, the cold distance in her expression made people want to retreat three steps.

Qin Jue adjusted her blue-light glasses and cradled a cup of herbal tea in her hands. “Do you want to hear some exclusive stories about me and Lin Yuebai?”

The system nodded emphatically. “Yes, exactly! Show possessiveness toward the protagonist on camera. She’ll definitely get angry when she finds out!”

Qin Jue chuckled and pinched the system. “You’re absolutely right.”

The livestream audience waited eagerly. The cameraman focused the lens on Qin Jue, not daring to miss a single explosive detail.

Qin Jue took a sip of tea, pausing thoughtfully before speaking. “Lin Yuebai and I first met in a car. At the time, I was dealing with some business issues overseas. I was driving to the factory at night when I happened to run into her.”

She took another sip of the fragrant tea, recalling the scene—a rainy night when her business had just started gaining traction. Then the factory’s power was cut, workers threatened to strike, and her business partners remained vague in their stance.

Qin Jue had been irritable. She hated risks and preferred planning every step meticulously.

Some said Qin Jue was too extreme, that she trusted almost no one. But she didn’t consider that a flaw.

Later, a friend suggested she try dating. Qin Jue thought it sounded nice, but she couldn’t bring herself to trust anyone around her, so the idea was shelved.

Until that night on the highway, when she randomly opened an audiobook.

It was a power fantasy novel—no overpowered love interest dropping from the sky, no special favor from fate. Just hardship after hardship relentlessly thrown at the protagonist.

The protagonist endured it all, battered but still moving forward.

Qin Jue could feel the author’s malice dripping from the story.

“That night, the rain was heavy. My car was parked outside the factory, and Lin Yuebai sat with me. She wasn’t doing well at the time either. Both of us were pretty unlucky.”

The factory incident had been a huge mess. Qin Jue almost ended up in prison overseas, but fortunately, evidence of sabotage by a competitor surfaced, and she received a hefty settlement.

The day she got the compensation, the protagonist from the novel she’d been listening to had her first TV drama air—and it was well-received.

Aside from the antagonist sharing Qin Jue’s name, she found the story oddly relatable.

“That night, the wind was freezing. I didn’t have an umbrella and got drenched in the rain for hours.”

“Lin Yuebai stayed with me. Both of us looked like drowned rats.”

A flicker of nostalgia passed through Qin Jue’s eyes as she recalled the biting cold of that European rain. Unconsciously, she shivered.

“Holy sh1t, there’s this kind of backstory?!”

“Wait, did Lin Yuebai go abroad before?”

“I kind of feel like my good friend is alive, but her expression is so serious it doesn’t seem fake.”

“sobbing I’ll always be moved by those who share both hardship and prosperity.”

“I think my good friend is actually quite loyal, not the indiscriminate type like the rumors say.”

Qin Jue cradled her floral tea and spoke calmly, “That night was too cold. Lin Yuebai and I heated some milk to warm up, but we both ended up with fevers afterward.”

After that busy period, Qin Jue was hospitalized with a fever that eventually turned into pneumonia. Medical costs overseas were exorbitant, and she nearly spent all her earnings on hospital bills. Once slightly better, she returned home to recuperate.

For a while afterward, she couldn’t suppress her coughing fits and had to suck on peppermints for relief. But the places she frequented were filled with smoke and alcohol, delaying her full recovery for over a year.

That night, Lin Yuebai had been left by her previous agent to stand in the rain outside, but fortunately her strong constitution prevented serious illness.

The live-stream audience listened in stunned silence as Qin Jue spun a beautiful love story of two people clinging together for warmth on a rainy night.

Eventually, Qin Jue grew tired of talking, shooed away the cameraman, and threw out all recording equipment from the room.

“It’s late. Time to rest.”

Gong Man watched the rapidly scrolling live chat and exchanged glances with Zhuang Lan beside her.

Scratching her woolly head, Gong Man said, “I remember Qin Jue was in the country during that time?”

Zhuang Lan was gulping down coffee. “…”

Qin Jue’s emotions felt so genuine that Zhuang Lan couldn’t immediately determine their authenticity.

“Did they really have something between them?”

Gong Man: “Given Qin Jue’s personality—a pampered young lady who can’t endure the slightest hardship—” How could she possibly go driving in the rain with someone at night?

…

“Yuebai, open up. My hand hurts.”

Qin Jue leaned weakly against the doorframe, her voice faint.

Hearing footsteps at the door, Lin Yuebai immediately opened her eyes. Her room was already dark. The soundproofing between their rooms wasn’t great—she could hear Qin Jue’s muffled voice next door.

She’d fallen asleep to the sound of Qin Jue speaking.

Now awakened by knocking, a flash of irritation crossed Lin Yuebai’s features.

When she opened the door to see Qin Jue, the annoyance vanished instantly as she ushered her inside.

System: “The protagonist looks so upset—she must have heard your nonsense earlier.”

Qin Jue: “It wasn’t nonsense. Just some artistic embellishment.”

System: “That’s still nonsense.”

Qin Jue: “If you’d seen my medical bills back then, you’d pity me too.”

The system thought this host was quite the rambler, but since she’d technically completed the villain’s tasks, it didn’t argue back.

Lin Yuebai’s hair was soft, and sleeping on it left two tufts sticking up. Qin Jue smoothed them down as Lin Yuebai yawned and rummaged through her suitcase for ointment and acupuncture strips.

“Let me give you some acupuncture, President Qin. Where does it hurt?”

The drowsy girl rubbed her eyes, making Qin Jue reluctant to let her handle needles. “Just… it hurts. Rubbing it will do.”

The system thought its host was truly wicked—first slandering the protagonist’s reputation on live stream, now making her massage her hands.

This was adding insult to injury.

Lin Yuebai obediently massaged Qin Jue’s hand as they lay together under a single-person quilt, barely large enough to cover them both.

Afraid Qin Jue might feel cold, Lin Yuebai draped an extra coat over the quilt.

The young girl, drowsy beyond awareness, nestled into a comfortable position in Qin Jue’s arms and drifted off to sleep, her fingers still instinctively pressing into Qin Jue’s wrist.

Qin Jue’s wrist hadn’t actually been hurting—she had only come to see Lin Yuebai.

She hadn’t expected Lin Yuebai to be so docile.

Qin Jue withdrew her wrist from Lin Yuebai’s grasp, startling the girl awake. Murmuring groggily, Lin Yuebai said, “The doctor said you need half an hour of massage every day, President Qin. Don’t move…” Her voice was soft, slurred, and before she could finish, she was asleep again.

The next morning,

Lin Yuebai woke first. The realization that someone else was in bed with her jolted her fully alert, but upon recognizing Qin Jue beside her, she relaxed, melting back against her.

Lin Yuebai tried to rise carefully, but a sharp inhale from the other woman froze her in place. Slowly sitting up, she realized—horrified—that she had somehow spent the entire night resting on Qin Jue’s injured hand.

Her mind went blank. Meeting Qin Jue’s bleary, sleep-heavy eyes, Lin Yuebai broke into a cold sweat.

Qin Jue rotated her stiff, aching wrist silently before getting up and heading to the bathroom without a word, brushing her teeth left-handed.

Left alone on the bed, Lin Yuebai muttered under her breath, “I’m the worst.”

Hearing rapid footsteps behind her, Qin Jue spat out toothpaste foam. “Good morning.”

Lin Yuebai cradled Qin Jue’s hand like a precious artifact, staring at the red marks left by her weight.

“We finish filming in half a day today—should I take you to the hospital?”

Lin Yuebai looked on the verge of tears, clinging to Qin Jue like a helpless fledgling.

Qin Jue’s wrist wasn’t in severe pain—likely because Lin Yuebai slept so soundly, barely shifting all night, minimizing further strain.

“Yuebai, what should I do? It hurts so much.”

Standing at the sink, Qin Jue spoke hoarsely. She wasn’t exaggerating her suffering—just stating it plainly.

Panicked, Lin Yuebai knew she was at fault, yet she couldn’t help resenting Qin Jue for sneaking into her room in the middle of the night.

Then she remembered last night—how Qin Jue had complained of wrist pain, asking her to massage it, only for Lin Yuebai to doze off mid-task…

No matter how she looked at it, this was entirely her fault.

Her head bowed nearly to her chest, Lin Yuebai lifted Qin Jue’s injured wrist and pressed a quick kiss to it.

Qin Jue arched an eyebrow.

Before she could react, Lin Yuebai suddenly kissed her on the lips, softening her voice into a coaxing plea. “President Qin, I’m sorry—it’s all my fault. I’ll make it up to you.”

The girl’s breath carried a hint of lemon and sea salt, her eyes rapidly welling with tears that threatened to spill with every blink.

Qin Jue remained silent.

Lin Yuebai rose onto her toes to kiss her again. When Qin Jue tried to push her away, Lin Yuebai pinned her against the wall, attempting to force another kiss.

Thankfully, the system didn’t witness the villain being assaulted by the protagonist—otherwise, it would have screeched in outrage.

Qin Jue swiftly regained control, using her uninjured hand to grip Lin Yuebai’s waist and pull her flush against her.

“Is this how you apologize?”

Lin Yuebai had kissed Qin Jue too fiercely earlier, biting her lips until they swelled.

The young girl, who had finally mustered a bit of courage, now shrank back again. “If you don’t want me to kiss you, fine. Someone like me, who only causes trouble, probably isn’t much fun for President Qin to keep around anyway. Just kick me out sooner rather than later.”

Qin Jue wondered what nonsense she was spouting now.

Lin Yuebai met Qin Jue’s exasperated gaze and, before the other could speak, laughed first.

“Sorry, let me make it up to you.”

Lin Yuebai leaned in, offering a soft kiss. She felt Qin Jue’s tongue slip between her lips, their body heat tangling together.

Qin Jue’s grip around her waist tightened, pulling her closer. Their long hair intertwined, indistinguishable from one another.

In the cramped bathroom, only the sound of their mingled breaths remained.

Lin Yuebai’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as Qin Jue lifted her onto the clean countertop.

The girl tilted her head up, kissing Qin Jue while lightly brushing against her thigh.

She only gave a teasing squeeze—nothing more.

Lin Yuebai suppressed a shiver as she heard staff members passing by outside.

“Stop, someone’s out there.”

“It’s fine. I locked the door. Just stay quiet.”

Qin Jue picked up a horn comb and pressed it between Lin Yuebai’s lips for her to bite down on.

The girl deliberately provoked her, hooking a leg around Qin Jue before anything even happened.

Qin Jue wasn’t one to indulge in desire, but even she couldn’t resist such temptation.

The hem of the nightgown was pushed aside.

Lin Yuebai’s back pressed against the cold mirror, her pupils dilating.

Her toes curled as Qin Jue kneaded the arch of her foot, murmuring, “Relax, or you’ll cramp.”

Biting the comb, Lin Yuebai couldn’t make a sound—only a single tear trailed down.

……

Lin Yuebai and Qin Jue woke early. The other two groups hadn’t risen yet, and it wasn’t until nearly nine that everyone gathered.

Lin Yuebai wore a baseball cap all day, looking listless. Others assumed she was unwell and took extra care of her during the games.

Even by the end of filming, she hadn’t found the right moment to bring up the Bluetooth issue with Qin Jue.

Pondering her work phone, Lin Yuebai noticed an unknown device persistently connected to her Bluetooth, though the settings showed it as inactive.

On the ride back, she stole glances at Qin Jue’s expression, waiting for the right time to ask.

With so many people around Qin Jue, surely someone knowledgeable could help.

The risks in the entertainment industry were high—if some unknown virus compromised their schedule or internal data, the losses would be significant.

She never found the chance to speak up, only noticing that Qin Jue was wearing the same clothes as the day before.

Qin Jue: ?

Lin Yuebai: “I watched the replay of your livestream last night.”

Her heart was a mess of emotions. “Thank you for keeping the truth of our first meeting hidden.”

Qin Jue stayed silent, pressing the accelerator as she drove Lin Yuebai back to her apartment. Before leaving, Lin Yuebai carefully applied lipstick and pressed a kiss onto the bandage wrapped around Qin Jue’s right wrist.

Then she bolted.

As if lingering even a second longer would earn her a scolding.

Qin Jue flexed her sore wrist, tapping the pearl button on her sleeve. Unnoticed by Lin Yuebai, a hidden app on her phone quietly activated.

After parting ways, Lin Yuebai was whisked away by Zhuang Lan to sign contracts at Starlight Entertainment.

After signing the contract, Lin Yuebai mentioned the Bluetooth connection issue with her phone, causing Zhuang Lan’s brows to furrow instantly, her expression turning particularly grim.

“Give me your phone. I’ll have it checked by a specialist.”

Just as Lin Yuebai was about to hand it over, she seemed to hesitate for some reason, tightening her grip to prevent Zhuang Lan from taking it.

Zhuang Lan looked up in confusion. “Did you notice something?”

Lin Yuebai shook her head. “My phone has been on me the whole time. No outsiders have had access to it recently.”

Zhuang Lan took Lin Yuebai to the cybersecurity department. “Think carefully—who else has touched your phone?”

Zhuang Lan wanted to say that controlling someone’s phone didn’t require physical contact; even clicking a link could implant malware. But Lin Yuebai didn’t seem careless, and she rarely used her work phone frequently.

Lin Yuebai said, “A couple of days ago, I left my phone in CEO Qin’s car. She returned it to me. Other than that, no one else has touched it.”

Zhuang Lan parted her lips, wondering if Qin Jue could be the issue, but seeing Lin Yuebai’s expression, she ultimately said nothing.

Lin Yuebai was deeply troubled, worried that someone might be targeting her to gather information on Qin Jue due to their close association.

Zhuang Lan brought over a skilled engineer who meticulously examined Lin Yuebai’s phone. Eventually, his frown deepened, his expression puzzled.

“It looks like some kind of eavesdropping software, but…” But it was clearly designed to spy on someone else!

Zhuang Lan’s face darkened. “People’s methods these days are impossible to guard against. Make sure you check thoroughly.”

Lin Yuebai didn’t hand over her phone, insisting the inspection be done in her presence. Soon, unfamiliar files appeared in the phone’s recordings. Lin Yuebai plugged in her earphones to listen.

…

“You vile beast!” Qin Zhenguo kicked over a vase in the corner.

Qin Jue sat across from her father on the sofa, legs crossed, a cup of coffee in front of her. She didn’t touch it—she had little interest in straight caffeine unless it was loaded with caramel syrup.

Qin Zhenguo trembled as he pointed at Qin Jue, hurling insults.

Qin Jue remained calm, as if the vitriol wasn’t directed at her.

Several factory executives stood in the study, their gazes flickering between bewilderment, resentment, and fear.

“Have I done something to upset you, Father?” Qin Jue spoke lightly, as if none of this concerned her.

“You reported the company’s overtime practices to Europe! Now European companies are refusing our imports, citing forced labor. Over a dozen Huida industrial parks have shut down. Qin Jue, what good does this do you?!”

Qin Zhenguo’s eyes were bloodshot, while his illegitimate son stood nearby, not daring to speak.

The system listened to the stream of vulgar insults and mused on how vastly different people could be. When its host was angry, only the veins on her forehead pulsed slightly, her expression colder than usual—never once had it seen her lose composure.

The system: “Detected that the protagonist is currently eavesdropping. Once she discovers your malicious side and obtains evidence of your interference, it will pose a significant threat to your career. The downfall of the Qin family begins here.”

Qin Jue replied to the system, “No need for Lin Yuebai to lift a finger. The Qin family will fall by my hand.”

The system flickered, conceding the point.

The coffee table in front of Qin Jue was suddenly overturned, sending the cup crashing to the floor and spilling coffee everywhere. Yet Qin Jue remained seated calmly.

“Tell me, what has the Qin family ever done to wrong you? After your mother passed away, I never remarried. The only reason I adopted a son was out of fear that the Qin family would have no heir.”

Qin Zhenguo’s face turned as red as liver, his voice trembling as he glared at Qin Jue—not with the gaze of a lover, but with the venomous stare reserved for a sworn enemy.

There was resentment, there was fear.

“Using such despicable tactics against your own family, just to marry that little star? You two vile—”

Qin Jue hadn’t expected this outburst. She calmly glanced at the pearl button before responding.

“I have no ulterior motives. I simply believe your advanced age has impaired your business judgment. Perhaps you should consider stepping down for more capable hands.”

Standing atop the shattered coffee table, Qin Jue said impassively, “Yuebai is still young. Marriage isn’t on my mind yet.”

Lin Yuebai was indeed too young for marriage. Without proper betrothal gifts prepared, how could such matters even be discussed?