Scumbag Woman, But Pampering My Wife - Chapter 58

The young girl obediently called out “Teacher.”

Qin Jue propped her chin on one hand, her heart melting at the sound. She casually played a few notes on the piano keys, and Lin Yuebai immediately began humming along.

During the lesson, Qin Jue avoided answering questions about the listening device. It wasn’t until dinner that Lin Yuebai brought it up again.

Putting down her chopsticks, Qin Jue poured Lin Yuebai a small glass of juice. “It was probably meant to spy on me. Did you have someone check your phone?”

Lin Yuebai placed a shrimp in her mouth, found it delicious, and promptly gave Qin Jue another piece. “Yes, the engineer said it’s been taken care of.”

Qin Jue ate the shrimp in one bite. Seeing that Qin Jue enjoyed the food from her home, Lin Yuebai served her several more dishes. The table held high-calorie items like rice cake with ribs, which Lin Yuebai could only manage half of before pushing the remainder into Qin Jue’s bowl.

Lin Yuebai’s brows furrowed with worry. “This time I happened to discover it, but what if next time I don’t…?”

The girl’s concern for Qin Jue was genuine. Yet a strange thought crossed Lin Yuebai’s mind—even if the person who planted the device was foolish, why would they install the listening end on her phone?

Zhuang Lan had checked all surveillance footage but found no evidence of anyone touching Lin Yuebai’s work phone. Lin Yuebai herself hadn’t noticed anyone but Qin Jue handling her phone—though Qin Jue touching her phone was perfectly normal. Their phones often sat side by side on the wireless charger by the bed, and Lin Yuebai had even mistaken them before.

At some point, their belongings had become so intertwined they were practically indistinguishable.

Qin Jue ate the remaining rice cake ribs from Lin Yuebai’s chopsticks. “Tastes good. I’ll look into this matter—no need to worry.”

After dinner, Qin Jue cleared the dishes into the dishwasher, refusing Lin Yuebai’s offer to help. Lin Yuebai perched on the kitchen island, watching Qin Jue bend to load the machine. A round, adorable little robot vacuum buzzed around their feet like a pet.

Looking up, Qin Jue saw Lin Yuebai’s legs swinging playfully. She caught one ankle, kneading the soft skin until a red mark appeared.

“Teacher, will we have class tomorrow?” Lin Yuebai asked, subtly pressing her ankle further into Qin Jue’s grasp—boldly taking advantage of her own charm.

Qin Jue bent to kiss Lin Yuebai’s knee. “Don’t you have something to tell me?” She voiced the question the system had been dying to ask.

System: “The protagonist sees you acting shady behind the scenes, coercing her into calling you ‘teacher’—how can she tolerate this?!” Even the system can’t take it.

Qin Jue’s dark eyes, shadowed by long lashes, watched as her fingers traced patterns up Lin Yuebai’s leg before lifting the ankle to her lips. Lin Yuebai’s breathing quickened, her toes curling as she braced against the counter.

“You heard my conversation with my father, didn’t you?” Qin Jue murmured.

Qin Jue gave Lin Yuebai no room to escape, trapping her in a confined space.

Qin Jue’s hand closed around Lin Yuebai’s ankle, pressing the sole of her foot with that still-stiff wrist of hers. Lin Yuebai, mindful of Qin Jue’s injury, didn’t dare struggle too hard.

“President Qin, I heard everything.”

Qin Jue stroked the arch of her foot. “Think I went too far?”

They were so close now that their breaths nearly tangled together. Only when Qin Jue felt the faint tremble in the muscles of Lin Yuebai’s calf did she finally ease the tension in that stretched ankle, massaging the soreness from overextension.

How could this girl not hate her at all?

Qin Jue had once assumed Lin Yuebai stayed by her side for a foothold in the entertainment industry or for more resources. But as time passed, she realized the girl truly had no ulterior motives—just a simple-minded devotion.

Around her, Lin Yuebai was as docile as a fledgling bird, utterly without temper.

Lin Yuebai grabbed Qin Jue’s belt, pulling her closer as she tilted her head up to press messy kisses along her jaw.

“Don’t hate you,” Lin Yuebai murmured against her skin. “The chairman treats you terribly. He has illegitimate children, who knows how many lovers…”

Qin Jue’s system shrieked in her mind.

She muted it and shoved the noise into the depths of her consciousness.

Lin Yuebai wrapped her arms around Qin Jue’s waist, kissing the corner of her lips. “The chairman doesn’t deserve to be a father. His words are vile, his actions disgraceful. Out of all the higher-ups in the Qin family, you’re the only one planning for the company’s long-term growth. You’re the one who saved Hui Da.”

If anyone else had said this, Qin Jue would’ve dismissed it as flattery.

But coming from Lin Yuebai, it felt painfully sincere.

Qin Jue looked down at her, bemused. “You really mean that?”

Lin Yuebai didn’t care about anything else. All she knew was that despicable chairman had hurled insults at her President Qin, and now he was lying in the CCU after collapsing in a fit of rage, still unable to get up.

Qin Jue couldn’t resist capturing Lin Yuebai’s lips, kissing her until she was breathless—

The cold kitchen countertop sent a shiver through Lin Yuebai’s skin as it made contact. Qin Jue restrained her final impulses, bracing herself above her without going further.

Lin Yuebai’s back pressed against the chilled marble. She pushed up to plant a kiss between Qin Jue’s brows before slipping away like a startled hare.

Qin Jue remained where she stood, the lingering taste of Lin Yuebai’s jasmine mouthwash still on her tongue.

She schooled the hunger in her gaze, watching as Lin Yuebai dashed upstairs and slammed the practice room door shut.

The second floor held a mirrored studio where Lin Yuebai often rehearsed her acting.

Knowing she was busy, Qin Jue didn’t disturb her. Instead, she turned to the window to make calls and arrange the next steps of work.

But in the days that followed, her little girl never came home.

System: “The protagonist really did run away because of you.”

Qin Jue turned a page of poetry. “She’s an adult. It’s not ‘running away.’”

System, eager: “Maybe she’s leaking the Qin family’s scandals to the press right now, getting ready to ruin you.”

Qin Jue’s fingernail left a mark as it scraped across the smooth, pristine paper.

“Shut up.”

……

“Please say something.”

Zhuang Lan stood beside Lin Yuebai. “Tell me what you’re really thinking. Squeezing over a week’s worth of tasks into three days, then compressing the subsequent activities into two—do you honestly think that’s reasonable?”

Lin Yuebai hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in two days. She found a recliner on set and would doze off whenever she wasn’t working, only to be woken up when it was time for her scenes.

There was less than a day left before filming wrapped.

Lin Yuebai pulled the blanket over her face. The scent of mosquito repellent clung to her, growing pungent after prolonged exposure.

Zhuang Lan had also pulled an all-nighter recently, dark circles hanging heavily under her eyes.

“Did you have a fight with President Qin?”

Lin Yuebai lowered the blanket slightly, revealing half of her bare face.

“No. I just want to earn more money for her.”

Zhuang Lan’s silence was deafening.

“Are you insane?” Zhuang Lan opened her mouth, then spoke hoarsely, “I know you like her, but you don’t actually think you can marry into the Qin family, do you?”

Lin Yuebai stared at her without responding.

Zhuang Lan continued, “I’ve heard recently that the Qin family’s chairman is in poor health. His control over the subsidiaries is weakening, and now Qin Jue alone calls the shots. If she can show no mercy to her own father, what makes you think you’re any different?”

Zhuang Lan pulled out her phone, dimmed the brightness, and held it in front of Lin Yuebai’s eyes. “Look. Qin’s illegitimate son was recently dragged onto a cruise ship by some shady friends to gamble. Word is he lost 800 million.”

Lin Yuebai squinted at the news. Above them, the full moon was obscured by clouds, leaving only a hazy glow.

“Rumor has it this illegitimate son is useless. He tried to make quick money at the casino to save his company but got scammed.”

Once the cruise ship reached international waters, whether he lived or died was anyone’s guess.

Lin Yuebai glanced at the article before handing the phone back. “I know what I’m doing.”

Zhuang Lan thought, Like hell you do.

The director called for Lin Yuebai. She rose from the recliner, rubbing her sore eyes, forcing herself to stay alert as she went to get her makeup and costume done.

Huida Corporation had been exploiting workers, violating labor laws, and driving employees to jump from dormitories—countless scandals still dominated the headlines, fueling endless short-video gossip channels.

Yet none of this affected domestic manufacturers’ partnerships with Huida. After all, this was a world ruled by profit. But recently, reports emerged of Huida’s internal mismanagement—some products were adulterated with inferior materials, quality inspectors were bribed, leading to defective goods, followed by procurement department corruption. The company was now in turmoil.

Their stock had plummeted beyond recognition.

Lin Yuebai could tell Qin Jue wasn’t in a good mood. Word was that Huida held sentimental value for her—ties to her mother and her mother’s family…

The last few scenes were action sequences.

Lin Yuebai refused a stunt double. She had learned a few moves from the martial arts instructor, leaving a thin cut on her cheek.

After multiple failed takes, even the director grew frustrated. But Lin Yuebai remained patient, shooting take after take. When the director finally called it good, she insisted there was room for improvement and pushed for a few more attempts.

Lin Yuebai picked up the bruise-relief spray and applied it to her bruised arm, rubbing it in with her palm until the medicine warmed up and was absorbed before pulling her sleeve back down.

“Continue.”

Qin Jue was the biggest investor, and she hoped Qin Jue could make more money.

…

Qin Jue attended several meetings at the headquarters before returning to Lin Yuebai’s apartment. Pushing the door open, she found the place completely empty.

When she arrived, the cleaning lady hadn’t left yet and was wiping the surface of the fish tank with a cloth.

“Boss.”

Lin Yuebai glanced around. “Has Miss Lin not been back recently?”

The cleaner came daily and noticed no signs of activity in the apartment during this period. “Miss Lin’s agent came by once to take some documents from the table.”

When Zhuang Lan arrived, she also happened to run into the cleaner. The lady sighed inwardly—being an actress wasn’t easy, with reversed schedules and no time to return home.

Not one for chatter, the cleaner quietly finished her work and gently closed the door behind her. Qin Jue leaned against the sofa where Lin Yuebai often sat, flipping through a book. She hadn’t seen Lin Yuebai return home these past few days. The kid had mentioned wanting piano lessons, but it seemed like an offhand remark—one she’d probably forgotten herself.

This left Qin Jue coming home punctually every day, sitting on the piano bench and waiting late into the night, only for no one to show up.

Her secretary knocked and entered, finding the boss expressionlessly reading emails on the sofa.

Lowering her voice, the secretary whispered, “President Qin.”

Qin Jue frowned but relaxed slightly upon seeing Zhong Yi, though her brow remained furrowed.

Zhong Yi: “Regarding Miss Lin…”

Qin Jue listened patiently.

Zhong Yi: “Miss Lin has wrapped up filming.”

Qin Jue let out a half-amused scoff and called to have flowers sent over. “Since filming’s wrapped up, we should celebrate with a meal.”

That kid seemed to have gone wild outside, never coming home.

Qin Jue was about to call and book a restaurant when Zhong Yi gestured that the director had already made arrangements.

The slight relaxation in Qin Jue’s brow tightened again.

System: “The protagonist is clearly avoiding you now. Why bother forcing yourself where you’re not wanted?”

Qin Jue’s expression darkened. The weather outside was scorching, and she wore a white short-sleeved T-shirt with jeans, her slightly wavy hair tied in a low ponytail—a youthful outfit, though her expression left no doubt she wasn’t a fresh graduate.

System: “I get it—you want the protagonist to dislike you even more, so you’re going to add fuel to the fire.”

The system couldn’t help but admire its host’s decisiveness.

Qin Jue drove to the hotel and spotted the film crew through the second-floor private room’s floor-to-ceiling windows. Lin Yuebai was inside drinking with others when the girl’s gaze accidentally met hers, freezing her in place.

“She can hold her liquor, I see.”

The system urged its host to stay calm and not bully the protagonist too much, lest she fight back desperately. But Qin Jue strode upstairs with a stormy expression.

The hotel staff didn’t dare stop her. Pushing open the private room door, Qin Jue saw Lin Yuebai’s half-empty liquor bottle, the girl’s face flushed with intoxication.

Zhuang Lan immediately stepped forward to mediate upon seeing President Qin. “We just wrapped today. Thank you for the flowers—we appreciate the gesture.”

Qin Jue’s expression remained grim as she stood beside Lin Yuebai, watching the half-full glass of baijiu swaying in her hand.

The table was laden with white liquor, red wine, and beer, yet Lin Yuebai deliberately chose the most intoxicating option—the clear liquor.

Nearly everyone at the table was already drunk, slurring their words and talking nonsense.

Another person, completely wasted, slapped Lin Yuebai on the shoulder and declared, “Don’t worry, I’ve got a project lined up for you later this year! You’re the most talented and hardworking actor I’ve ever met—you’re gonna be famous across the country!”

A foreign supporting actor sitting two seats to Lin Yuebai’s right squinted at her blearily and mumbled,

“Is she your… guardian? I heard minors aren’t allowed to drink in your country. You’re gonna get scolded when you get home.”

Lin Yuebai looked far too young—in countries where people aged faster, she might as well have been an underage kid.

Standing there with a shy, lazy smile, she didn’t resist when Qin Jue silently took the glass from her hand.

The glass rested firmly in Qin Jue’s grip as she turned it toward the group.

“Thank you all for looking after Yuebai. Let me toast on her behalf.”

She threw back the burning liquor in one go, then flipped the glass upside down to show it was empty.

Qin Jue disliked drinking, and the sudden rush of alcohol made her stomach churn. The liquor burned all the way down her throat.

“It’s getting late. I’ll take Yuebai home first. Everyone, enjoy yourselves—put everything on my tab.”

With that, Qin Jue gripped Lin Yuebai’s arm and led her downstairs.

The girl’s face was flushed from drinking, but she followed obediently, like a puppy trailing its owner.

Under a streetlight, Lin Yuebai kept her head down, avoiding Qin Jue’s gaze.

The woman before her wasn’t dressed in her usual sharp blazer or stiletto heels—instead, she looked like a fresh college graduate.

Before Lin Yuebai could speak, she suddenly hissed in pain.

Her arm had brushed against the lamppost, aggravating the dark bruises scattered across her skin.

Qin Jue’s frown deepened. “What happened?”

She pushed up Lin Yuebai’s sleeve, revealing mottled bruises—some long and narrow, as if from a blunt weapon, others scraped raw.

Upon closer inspection, there was even a faint pink scar on Lin Yuebai’s right cheek.

Lin Yuebai hadn’t minded the injuries when she got them, but now, guilt prickled under Qin Jue’s scrutiny.

Qin Jue’s voice turned icy. “Explain.”

Lin Yuebai mumbled, “It’s nothing. Just some fight scenes. Everyone goes through this—I’ve had worse before.”

Knowing Qin Jue wouldn’t let it go, she spread her arms and leaned in to whine,

“I just wanted to finish filming quickly.”

She rested her chin on Qin Jue’s shoulder. “It’s your fault for spoiling me so much.”

So now it was her fault?

Qin Jue called for a car to take them to the hospital, but Lin Yuebai refused. They settled for a nearby pharmacy, picking up some ointment for bruises and sprains.

In the backseat, the girl clutched the medicine bag in silence.

Qin Jue didn’t speak either.

Only as they neared home did Lin Yuebai whisper, “I’m sorry. I pushed myself too hard.”

Qin Jue gave her a half-smile but didn’t respond, simply carrying her out of the car when they arrived.

The girl might have seemed fine, but she was too drunk to walk straight—her steps were unsteady, swaying with every move.

The plastic bag containing medicine sat on the coffee table. Qin Jue bent down to examine the medication boxes when, in the next instant, Lin Yuebai pinned her onto the sofa.

System: !!!!!
System: No! Way! This absolutely can’t be happening—!

The system watched helplessly as the protagonist openly sexually harassed its host.

The system’s CPU was overheating. It had assumed the protagonist’s revenge would involve exposing the Qin family’s affairs publicly or, following the original plot, slapping the villain across the face.

But instead—

Qin Jue was suddenly pushed onto the couch. Lin Yuebai, emboldened by alcohol, kissed her without restraint, daring to do what she’d never dreamed of before.

“Boss Qin, I’ll earn lots of money and take care of you in the future, okay?”

Since starting university, Qin Jue hadn’t received a single cent from her family. Everything she had was earned through her own efforts—she’d worked part-time jobs, tutored, built successful businesses. She’d bought property in the capital’s cutthroat real estate market and mingled in VIP lounges atop Manhattan’s tallest skyscrapers.

No one had ever said to her, “Let me take care of you in the future, okay?”

Qin Jue’s heart gave an unexpected flutter.

Lin Yuebai murmured against Qin Jue’s cheek, “I’ll work hard and support you later.”

Drunk, her dark tea-colored eyes reflected nothing but Qin Jue. “I booked a flight tomorrow to shoot that high-speed hairdryer ad overseas—the one from your company. The location scouting’s abroad. So great… I didn’t charge much, just half what other celebrities get. I’m a bargain.”

Her words were disjointed, yet Qin Jue understood perfectly.

Half of Qin Jue’s face was slick with Lin Yuebai’s saliva. The younger woman wore only a camisole beneath her jacket, now thoroughly disheveled from their tussling.

“Zhuang Lan scheduled me as a guest on several variety shows. I’ve maintained good visibility lately—my endorsements are performing well. My market value’s higher now, more commercial appeal.”

Lin Yuebai’s speech grew increasingly slurred, likely incomprehensible even to herself.

All her rambling condensed into one sentence: “When I’m rich, I’ll take care of you. Don’t work so hard.”

Lin Yuebai didn’t know where this sudden confidence came from, but she’d begun pitying Qin Jue—

A mother who died young, a scumbag father, a company on shaky ground, and her own broken self.

Qin Jue wiped the saliva off with her sleeve, attempting to push Lin Yuebai up. “Let me clean you up. Behave.”

The moment she tried to rise, Lin Yuebai shoved her back down.

Perched on Qin Jue’s lap, she took two fingers into her mouth.

“Lin Yuebai!”

The drunkard couldn’t comprehend words.

Eyes glazed with intoxication, Lin Yuebai knelt firmly atop Qin Jue, stripping away obstructive clothing.

“Boss Qin, I got the director’s WeChat. She said she’s casting leads for a film and TV drama—thinks I’d fit. The productions look solid, potential hits.”

Qin Jue’s expression darkened. “You drank with her for this?”

Confused by Qin Jue’s anger, Lin Yuebai tilted her head, denying any chance for interrogation as she gripped Qin Jue’s wrist…

Qin Jue’s pupils dilated slightly, fingers stiffening, while Lin Yuebai clung to her like a cub returning to its den.

The tipsy little girl clung to Qin Jue, intertwining her fingers with the less-than-perfect index finger of his right hand.

As for Qin Jue’s other hand…

The goldfish in the aquarium flicked its tail, sending ripples across the water’s surface.

Lin Yuebai took shallow breaths, her lips overly flushed as she pressed a burning kiss against Qin Jue’s neck.

“Teacher, let’s postpone these few days of piano lessons. I’ll make them up after I finish shooting the commercial, okay?”

“Alright, but good students shouldn’t slack off. If I find you’ve played a single wrong note, our Yuebai will have to be punished.”

Little Moon tearfully agreed, “Please go easy on me then, I’m afraid of pain.”

Was Lin Yuebai made of water?

Why was she always wet with tears? Even talking to her teacher could make her cry.

Her body bore numerous bruises in shades of blue and purple. Qin Jue’s hand gripping her waist added another streak of red.

“Don’t move, baby don’t move. Be careful not to hurt yourself.”

Qin Jue pressed down on her shoulders, keeping the trembling Little Moon still in her arms. Her delicate skin bruised easily. When Qin Jue kissed her lips to taste the sobering soup in her mouth, Lin Yuebai bit her tongue.

Qin Jue had to hold her chin to stop her from biting.

Pressed against Qin Jue’s shoulder, Little Moon let out fragmented sobs,

“I’ll give you all my acting fees from now on. President Qin, don’t work too hard.”

Qin Jue kissed her forehead with a sigh of helplessness. Just how pitiful did Little Moon think her life was?