Scumbag Woman, But Pampering My Wife - Chapter 59

In the end, Qin Jue couldn’t stop her from going abroad for work.

On the night before Lin Yuebai’s departure, Qin Jue pressed her onto the piano bench to teach her a piece. Lin Yuebai’s fingers rested on the keys, producing a series of fragmented, dissonant notes.

With the piano’s accompaniment, the sound of Lin Yuebai’s quiet sobbing was completely drowned out.

She practically fled the country.

When Qin Jue woke up, she found the bedroom neatly tidied, and the clothes strewn across the floor had all been tossed into the laundry hamper.

The bedsheet, stained with traces of their passion, was now tumbling in the dryer, radiating warmth.

Qin Jue blinked in confusion, reaching out to an empty space beside her.

Half the bed had already gone cold—she had no idea how long Lin Yuebai had been gone.

Her little moon was like a restless puppy, always itching to run off somewhere.

Qin Jue picked up her phone to check the time and saw the latest message—a photo Lin Yuebai had sent from the airport.

In the picture, Lin Yuebai wore a baseball cap and burgundy sunglasses perched on the bridge of her nose, capturing only half her face and a glimpse of her collarbone. A faint red mark lingered there, making the whole image seem rather indecent.

Little Moon: Breakfast is ready in the kitchen. Don’t forget to eat.

Qin Jue replied: Got it. Message me when you land.

Lin Yuebai was already on the plane. Qin Jue slipped her phone into her pocket and headed downstairs.

System: There’s a plot point to go through today.

Qin Jue took small sips of the corn porridge Lin Yuebai had prepared for her before leaving. The broth had been simmered with shredded chicken, though it tasted somewhat bland. Still, it was nutritious. She added two spoonfuls of sugar and finished the entire pot.

The system wanted to sample the protagonist’s cooking but was promptly denied.

“Go on,” Qin Jue said.

Hovering near the empty pot, the system explained: “The paparazzi have dirt on the protagonist from her past. In the original storyline, the antagonist contacts them to buy the information and uses it as leverage against her.”

Qin Jue washed the pot and set it aside to dry. “Blackmail her?”

System: “If we followed the original plot, the Qin family would already be on the verge of bankruptcy. The protagonist, ruthless as she is, uncovered a series of illegal activities tied to them and filed a lawsuit. The chairman of Qingtian was hospitalized from the shock, while the illegitimate son and the antagonist were at each other’s throats. The antagonist noticed the protagonist’s meddling and tried to threaten her into stopping her attacks on the Qin family.”

There was a hint of resentment in the system’s voice. “But you’ve already done all of this yourself. You stole the protagonist’s spotlight.”

Zhong Yi knocked and entered. “President Qin, there’s a meeting at the company in half an hour.”

Qin Jue wiped the last traces of water from the counter with a cloth. She wasn’t usually one for chores, but since Lin Yuebai had made her breakfast, it felt right to clean up the kitchen.

Staying a little longer in the space her little moon had occupied, she could almost catch the lingering scent of her perfume.

After rinsing her hands, Qin Jue dried each finger meticulously with a soft towel. “Understood.”

Zhong Yi observed her boss’s expression—though the woman rarely showed much emotion, today her demeanor was especially icy.

The entire ride to the company was tense. Upon arrival, the secretarial team briefed her on the day’s agenda before ushering her into the conference room.

The subordinates who once followed Qin Zhenguo now stood as quiet as quails in front of Qin Jue, addressing her as “President Qin” with even more enthusiasm than they had ever shown when calling her father “Chairman.”

Qin Jue tossed a document onto the conference table. “Revamp the factory facilities according to this document. Huida can no longer continue as a cheap OEM manufacturer—that path leads nowhere. Shift production to Southeast Asia while focusing domestic efforts on R&D-driven products.”

A senior executive wiped cold sweat from his forehead, clearly intimidated by this new president.

“But the company’s tradition… I mean, the Chairman is still in the ICU. Shouldn’t we hear his opinion?”

The man spoke with extreme caution, pausing every few words to gauge Qin Jue’s expression. Other executives also stole glances at her reaction.

A few furtively reached for cigarettes but ultimately stuffed them back into their pockets.

This conference room had once reeked of smoke, but not a trace remained since Qin Jue took charge.

Her gaze swept indifferently across the room. “Is that so? Then take the document to the Chairman. I hear the old man can move his fingers now—perhaps he’ll even sign it with a fountain pen at the bottom.”

The cutting remark silenced all dissent.

“President Qin is absolutely right.”

Everyone knew Qin Zhenguo’s condition. With Huida’s stocks plummeting, shareholders had rushed to dump their holdings—all snapped up by Qin Jue until she nearly monopolized decision-making power. No one dared contradict her now.

The Qin family’s ship was sinking fast. Those who couldn’t jump overboard sat trapped in this very conference room.

Qin Jue set down her teacup. “Proceed as I’ve instructed. The global landscape has changed.” She pointed at one executive. “You—negotiate with that Jiangcheng startup. Their smart home control system shows promise. They’re small and lack mature technology but could thrive with corporate backing.”

Her piercing stare left the room frozen in fear.

Local governments offered subsidies for new industrial parks, promising significant savings. Too many foreign brands had relied on OEM manufacturing until they lost all innovative capacity.

Qin Jue would never settle for meager labor profits.

The executive who’d mentioned the ICU now dripped sweat onto the conference table.

“You’re right. The Chairman is… elderly and unwell. He should focus on recuperating.”

After the meeting, executives filed out looking ashen. This president bore no resemblance to the former chairman.

Standing outside headquarters, Zhuang Lan watched the grim-faced men and women emerge and muttered under her breath.

“Sis, why’s your visa denied again?”

Zhuang Lan’s mouth twitched. “It’s approved, but I’ve got urgent matters here.”

Her expression darkened. Last night, a paparazzo had demanded three million for alleged compromising photos of Lin Yuebai’s past.

Torn between skepticism and dread, Zhuang Lan wavered—the consequences if real would be catastrophic.

The caller hadn’t even sent previews, so certain she’d pay.

The voice on the phone was indistinct, as if altered by a voice changer. “Lin Yuebai did quite a few unsavory things before her debut. If you don’t want to see her trending on Weibo soon, I suggest you pay up.”

The final words before the call ended were, “I trust you’re all smart people. Money solves problems—good for you, good for me, good for everyone.”

The electronic voice was grating, sending chills down Zhuang Lan’s spine. After making countless calls that sleepless night, she canceled her flight the next day, sending Lin Yuebai and the crew abroad for filming while she stayed behind to handle the situation.

Zhuang Lan pressed her lips together as she walked forward, nearly colliding with a suit-clad executive wiping sweat from his brow.

Both stopped in their tracks.

Zhuang Lan glanced up at him. “President Qin is inside.”

At the mention of Qin Jue, the executive shuddered. The reason the executives obeyed her so readily was twofold: she was the legitimate heir of the Qin family, and each of them had received an email the previous night detailing their past indiscretions. It was clear she had ironclad control over the company—and that she was a vindictive superior who couldn’t be easily fooled.

The records showed every instance of embezzlement—dates, amounts, excuses—down to the last cent, enough to make anyone break out in cold sweats.

Seeing the man’s shaken state, Zhuang Lan wanted to ask more, but he hurried away as if he’d seen a ghost.

“President Qin is inside. You can go right in.”

Zhuang Lan: ?

Approaching the meeting room at the end of the hallway, she found the door slightly ajar, allowing her to hear the phone conversation inside.

Qin Jue leaned casually against a chair as an electronic voice spoke through the receiver.

“Understood. Send me the account details and email the photos.”

Two electronic beeps followed. “President Qin has remarkable resolve. Looking forward to our next collaboration.”

Zhuang Lan’s face drained of color. Noticing someone at the door, Qin Jue frowned until she recognized the manager, then relaxed slightly.

The moment the money was transferred, her inbox chimed twice.

Opening the attachment revealed a series of dimly lit bar photos.

Zhuang Lan stood frozen at the doorway. “President Qin, that call just now…?”

Qin Jue rested her chin on one hand, scrolling through Lin Yuebai’s photos on her tablet. A small agate moon pendant dangled from its case.

Zhuang Lan’s expression darkened, her heartbeat deafening in her ears.

Qin Jue said coolly, “The paparazzi called. They said you refused to buy the photos last night, so they came to me. The price went from three million to five.”

Her fingers traced the tablet’s edge. “Because of your hesitation, I had to pay two million extra.”

Zhuang Lan’s gaze flickered to the photos on the tablet.

In the shadowy bar, an arm draped over a girl’s shoulders—the girl’s youthful face unmistakable. Slender and seemingly defenseless, Lin Yuebai was held by someone whose hand, adorned with two gold rings and a cigarette, remained hidden in darkness.

Lin Yuebai’s face was captured clearly: a drink forced into her hand, cheeks flushed with intoxication.

The girl was half-forced into an embrace, her eyes revealing a trace of disgust and disdain.

She wore a white long-sleeved dress, standing out starkly against the chaotic surroundings, like a white lily blooming in the dark of night.

Qin Jue swiped through the screen to view the subsequent photos—each one showing similar scenes.

In one of them, Lin Yuebai was being pulled into a car. The grip on her wrist was tight enough to leave red marks.

Qin Jue’s expression darkened.

Having read the original work, she knew Lin Yuebai had never been touched by anyone else, but seeing these images still filled her with intense revulsion.

The longer she stayed in this world, the more details she forgot, often needing the system’s reminders to recall the plot’s direction.

Moreover, her influence on the storyline had grown too significant—Lin Yuebai’s feelings for her alone proved how drastically things had diverged from the original.

Zhuang Lan shuddered as she looked at the photos, a chill running down her spine.

If these images were leaked to the media, the uproar would be unimaginable.

Lin Yuebai was clearly in the midst of a career ascent, and many who envied her would gladly fan the flames.

After flipping through the photos, Qin Jue met Zhuang Lan’s sweat-drenched face.

“Wipe your sweat.”

She handed her two tissues. Zhuang Lan grabbed them and roughly wiped her face.

“This was my failure.”

She bowed her head in apology, already resigned to losing this month’s bonus.

Qin Jue didn’t mention the bonus. She saved the photos and walked to the window to make a call.

“I’ve sent someone to investigate everyone who had contact with Lin Yuebai. Don’t worry.”

Relief washed over Zhuang Lan at Qin Jue’s words. After discussing Lin Yuebai’s future plans, she stumbled out of the office in a daze.

“Boss, Qin Jue didn’t look too happy earlier. You don’t think she’d…?”

Zhuang Lan pressed her lips together. She didn’t dare trust Qin Jue’s character—there was no telling what that woman was capable of.

Right now, she might adore someone enough to lift them to the heavens, but once her affection faded, trampling them into the mud wouldn’t be out of the question.

“Let’s hope this CEO Qin has a little more patience.”

——

“This shot is perfect—one more!”

The photographer raised his camera, focusing on the girl seated at the edge of a cliff.

Lin Yuebai wore a white spaghetti-strap gown, perched atop a massive boulder near the cliff’s edge—though in truth, it was a protruding rock at a safe distance.

No one in the team would dare let her get too close to the actual drop. If anything happened, none of them would escape unscathed.

A gust of wind swept by, lifting Lin Yuebai’s jet-black hair into the air. A stray lock caught on her brow, veiling her striking features with a hazy, dreamlike quality.

In the distance, a winding river glimmered beneath the cliffs, while further still stood towering spires piercing the clouds, white doves resting atop them.

The team had specifically chosen this internationally renowned scenic spot for the shoot. Securing permission to film in this protected area had cost a fortune, and it was Lin Yuebai’s first time seeing vultures with wingspans exceeding three meters.

Legend had it that spotting such colossal vultures brought good luck.

A shadow passed over Lin Yuebai’s eyes. She looked up and saw a pair of sharp claws, then further up were clusters of feathers longer than arms.

The photographer frantically clicked the shutter, capturing this moment in the final shots.

The wind was strong on the cliff. As soon as the shoot wrapped up, a blanket was draped over Lin Yuebai. She checked the footage on the viewfinder and only left by car after ensuring she was satisfied.

“Ms. Lin,” a man in a black suit knocked on her car window as the sedan stopped in front of the hotel. “Our boss heard you were here shooting an advertisement and specifically invited you for a chat.”

Lin Yuebai’s eyes met a pair of black sunglasses, obscuring the man’s expression. The accompanying staff exchanged uneasy glances.

With her manager absent, the team seemed at a loss.

Lin Yuebai’s expression darkened. “Who is your boss?”

A light-colored scarf draped over her shoulders, she wore a white ankle-length slip dress underneath, adorned with a jingling golden belt at the waist—resembling a deity from ancient Greek murals.

The man in sunglasses replied in a hoarse, monotone voice, “Our boss said, ‘Ms. Lin, don’t forget how you debuted in the first place.'”

Lin Yuebai’s slender frame trembled slightly, her dark tea-colored eyes clouded with gloom.

Of course, she hadn’t forgotten. Her former manager had taken her to a bar, where she met that boss surnamed Song. Two bottles of strong liquor were placed before her—finish them, and she’d get her debut contract.

Everyone on the team wanted to earn money for the company, to be recognized for their efforts.

At the very least, they wanted to give their years of grueling trainee life a proper conclusion.

Lin Yuebai knew exactly what he was after—getting her drunk and dragging her into a room.

Back then, she had no money, no way out.

After hastily downing a few glasses, she made an excuse to slip away, only to be caught at the back door and pulled toward a car.

She escaped, with someone chasing her until she tripped in an alley, dislocating her right arm. Only then, fearing the situation would escalate, did the pursuer retreat resentfully.

Lin Yuebai stepped out of the car and cast a cold glance at the man. “I debuted because I was exceptional. What does that have to do with your boss?”

With that, she turned and walked back into the hotel.

Her heart pounded violently—she would never forget the sensation of that icy, burning liquor pouring down her throat.

Her face ashen, Lin Yuebai took a shower upon entering her room and sat alone on the bed.

She picked up her phone and, as if possessed, dialed Qin Jue’s number.

No one answered.

She tried again—still no answer.

“Where the hell are you fooling around…”

Frustrated, she tossed her phone onto the bed. It bounced twice before clattering to the floor.

“You’d better never contact me again.”

Just then, a knock sounded at her hotel door. A calm woman’s voice came from outside:

“If Ms. Lin doesn’t want those old photos leaked to the media, please come with me to meet President Song.”

Lin Yuebai’s face turned deathly pale.

…

The system screamed: “I’m stuck with you for life—what kind of cursed luck is this?! The original plot wasn’t like this!! QWQ”

Meanwhile, Qin Jue hailed a taxi outside the airport. Zhong Yi sat in the passenger seat, handing her a document.

“I heard Song Wei is vacationing abroad. His domestic factories mainly focus on e-commerce sales and home building materials, which makes them a perfect fit for cooperation with Huida.”

Qin Jue flipped through Song Wei’s profile. The first page showed his photo—a man with a plump, unremarkable face who didn’t seem particularly accomplished. However, he had a capable general manager by his side.

Zhong Yi remarked, “He’s just a rich second-generation heir with no real talent. Before his family’s patriarch passed away, he was fooling around in the entertainment industry. Rumor has it he had dealings with quite a few minor celebrities.”

Qin Jue skimmed through the documents. The general manager was a sharp and efficient woman with short hair, dressed in crisp professional attire. In her early thirties, she had previously helped another company in the industry go public before resigning to assist Song Wei.

It was said she owed her family a debt of gratitude for funding her overseas studies and had returned to repay the favor.

The car stopped in front of a bar, and the system weakly emitted a series of warning beeps.

Qin Jue told the system to shut up first.

“I’m going to threaten Little Moon now.”

She adjusted her dark red suit jacket, adorned with jingling silver chains that, paired with her striking and beautiful features, made for a visually impactful look—clearly someone who knew how to have a good time.

Zhong Yi, dressed in a white shirt, followed behind her boss.

“President Qin, our meeting with Mr. Song isn’t scheduled here.”

Not only was the location wrong, but the timing was off too.

Qin Jue waved her hand dismissively, instructing Zhong Yi to find a quiet spot to wait. She ordered her a non-alcoholic cocktail and a fruit platter.

“Eat first. I have business to attend to.”

A colorful cocktail and an exquisite fruit platter appeared in front of Zhong Yi.

Qin Jue had chosen a secluded spot for her, one that most people wouldn’t notice. The bar was a mixed bag, and things weren’t exactly clean here—she didn’t want any trouble for her employee.

Near the dance floor, Lin Yuebai stood stiffly beside a sofa, her expression dark. To her right was a plain-faced woman who said, “Miss Lin, there’s no need to be nervous. Our boss just wants to catch up with you.”

The woman’s words were cut off. “Shut up! Who wants to catch up with her? She was someone I had my eye on before—I invited her here for drinks!”

The woman who had spoken earlier gave Lin Yuebai an apologetic look and mouthed something, but Lin Yuebai couldn’t make it out. Before leaving, the woman slipped a car key into her hand.

The bar was noisy, and the cacophony made Lin Yuebai’s ears ache. She hated the mingled stench of alcohol—something she had never smelled on Qin Jue.

Qin Jue wasn’t answering her calls, and Lin Yuebai felt a pang of loneliness.

She exchanged cold pleasantries with Song Wei, who lounged on the sofa. She wanted to leave immediately, but before she could, she found herself surrounded by a group of people.

Lin Yuebai’s expression turned even colder.

“What do you want?”

“Don’t be so tense. I really just wanted to reminisce,” Song Wei said with a suggestive look.

“I heard you’re with President Qin now—she’s quite the formidable figure. But I’ve also heard she has some… particular tastes. Likes to hit people, shows no mercy to those close to her. You must have suffered a lot by her side, huh?”

Lin Yuebai remained silent, looking at Song Wei as if he were an idiot.

She never let anyone who had wronged her off the hook. Over the years, Song Wei had done plenty of stupid things—and Lin Yuebai had been keeping track of every single one.

She had long gathered sufficient evidence proving that Song Wei had committed acts of sexual assault against minors two years prior, along with a case of forced alcohol consumption leading to death. The evidence was irrefutable.

Lin Yuebai was someone who repaid every slight in kind.

Just as a hand that had just touched another woman was about to brush against Lin Yuebai’s wrist, it was abruptly pressed down by the cold rim of a wine glass.

Suddenly, an arm wrapped around Lin Yuebai’s waist, and amidst the bar’s murky atmosphere, a fragrance of agarwood and roses drifted toward her.

Qin Jue splashed a glass of wine onto Song Wei’s face. She leaned close to Lin Yuebai’s ear with a soft laugh, “Don’t be fooled. Song Wei doesn’t have your old photos—I do.”

Lin Yuebai felt a sudden shiver down her spine, nearly losing her balance as the arm around her waist tightened.

In the gentlest tone possible, Qin Jue uttered the most threatening words, “Darling, your future is in my hands. You’d better behave.”

Lin Yuebai obediently agreed.

The moment Song Wei saw Qin Jue, his pupils contracted violently as he struggled to stand, but his alcohol-laden body refused to cooperate.

Cold wine dripped down his face.

Qin Jue’s gaze was icy, yet her lips curved into a faint smile. “I’ve taken a liking to someone by your side. Won’t you give them to me?”