When the Scumbag A Got the Dog-Licking Script - Chapter 41
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- Chapter 41 - Beep! It Seems Very Urgent.
Beep! Beep! Beep! The notification sounded urgent.
After their meal, Pei Daowan and Yu Jinzhao parted ways. Pei Daowan headed to the office to handle her work, while Yu Jinzhao also went to her own company.
They had finalized most of the details with Li Jin that day, and now it was just a matter of execution. Pei Daowan would serve as the producer, while Li Jin would have full creative control over the filming process.
Shortly after Pei Daowan returned to her desk, Liu Qingyi approached, looking rather mischievous. She leaned in, a sly grin spreading across her face.
“Sis, guess who I saw downstairs during lunch?”
Pei Daowan sighed inwardly. Of course, she thought. I knew this was coming. Yet she maintained a composed expression, feigning ignorance.
“Who?”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk! Sis, I never realized you had it in you~” Liu Qingyi’s tone dripped with innuendo, her eyes sparkling with gossip.
Pei Daowan remained impassive, delivering a characteristically blunt and unpopular remark: “Have you finished your work?”
Liu Qingyi, well-versed in Pei Daowan’s personality, remained unfazed.
“Sis, I specifically came to find you after finishing my tasks.”
Seeing Liu Qingyi’s eager, inquisitive gaze, Pei Daowan couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of her nose. What’s coming will come. There’s no escaping it.
“As you can see, I had dinner with Yu Jinzhao.”
“Hmph, hmph, Sister, I knew it! Even if Yu Jinzhao isn’t as terrible as the rumors say, she’s still not good enough for you.”
Pei Daowan chuckled and shook her head. “You’re being unreasonable.”
“Wow! Sister, you’re actually defending her? I’m so hurt! I asked you to go to that noodle shop with me so many times, and you always refused.”
Pei Daowan’s mind flashed back. So Qingyi had been inviting her to that noodle shop all along.
Feeling a bit guilty, Pei Daowan looked away and changed the subject.
“I was really busy before. How about tonight? I’ll treat you to dinner as an apology.”
Liu Qingyi smirked smugly. “Too late! I already have a date tonight. He’s a college student, so sunny and energetic. I’m going on a date with him tonight!”
Pei Daowan smiled, recognizing this was just a teasing jab.
“Sister, you should date younger people more often. It’s absolutely amazing!”
Pei Daowan raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t Yu Jinzhao young enough?”
Liu Qingyi still sounded dismissive. “So-so. In a few years, she won’t be attractive anymore. You know how short an Alpha’s prime is.”
“You’re turning the world upside down.”
“Hmph, Sister, society has changed. Only old fogeys like the Yu Family still cling to their outdated ways. They’re so backward and stubborn.”
Pei Daowan remained noncommittal. Yu Xincheng’s behavior was so autocratic, it might as well befit an emperor.
“Then I wish you luck on your date tonight.”
“Oh, so you think I’m being too talkative and want me to leave?”
Pei Daowan, genuinely exasperated, avoided her gaze. “No, that’s not it.”
“Alright, alright, I won’t bother you anymore. But still, be careful around Yu Jinzhao. She has a physical advantage, after all.”
“Even if something happens, it’s no big deal. It would be her honor.”
“Mm, I know, Qingyi. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”
After seeing Liu Qingyi off, Pei Daowan couldn’t calm her racing thoughts. She wondered what Yu Jinzhao would cook for dinner tonight.
That evening, she received disappointing news: Yu Jinzhao had to leave on a sudden business trip to City A, lasting at least a week or possibly two. Apparently, she was scouting locations with Li Jin.
Does scouting really take that long? Pei Daowan couldn’t help feeling annoyed, but she replied with a single, curt word.
When the special ringtone sounded, Yu Jinzhao hurriedly pulled out her phone to check the message. The reply was as concise as the sender herself.
Just a single “Mm.”
Yu Jinzhao’s fingers couldn’t help but scroll upward. Most of the time, it was her talking, her answering.
Pei Daowan’s style had always been concise and to the point, while Yu Jinzhao herself tended to ramble, sometimes even telling her about the smallest things.
The longest message Pei Daowan had ever sent her was one evening when she said she wanted pineapple fried rice and asked Yu Jinzhao to try to get off work early.
Yu Jinzhao’s fingers quickly reached the top of the chat. Over the past two months, they hadn’t actually exchanged that many messages; she finished scrolling through them in no time.
As usual, she replied with a quick message and put her phone away.
Meanwhile, on the other end, Pei Daowan saw that Yu Jinzhao had only replied with an emoji, and her displeasure swelled once more.
Just an emoji!
Normally, Yu Jinzhao would have shared so much—who she’d met, what she’d done that day. It might have been a bit trivial, but Pei Daowan never minded.
This time, however, she’d said nothing, only abruptly announcing her upcoming business trip, as if she’d just been informed herself.
The messages above—Yu Jinzhao’s usual, chatty messages—stood in stark contrast to this terse reply, making Pei Daowan’s eyes sting.
She closed the chat window, shoved her phone back into her pocket, and deliberately avoided looking at Yu Jinzhao’s message again.
The office desk had already been cleared, and she was preparing to leave work. But now, there was no need to rush home.
Liu Qingyi had gone on a date. Since it was Friday, everyone else had left work early, leaving her seemingly alone on the vast floor.
She reopened her computer. The screen’s glow cast an unnatural pallor on her face, the only light in the room coming from a warm yellow lamp.
Since Yu Jinzhao wasn’t here, there was no point in going home. She might as well continue working on next week’s tasks.
Yu Jinzhao was indeed incredibly busy. Having never worked as a producer before, she had naively assumed that investing money would be enough. In reality, the job was far more complex than she had imagined.
Investment was just one part of it. Inviting guests, coordinating locations, managing personnel—a mountain of tasks kept her overwhelmed and frantic.
By the time she finally had a moment to breathe, it was already two in the morning. Glancing at her phone, she saw the message interface still stuck on that single (Mm-hmm). Feeling a pang of disappointment, she simply collapsed into bed.
Having gone to sleep so late the previous night, coupled with two days of poor rest, Yu Jinzhao woke up at noon. She glanced at the time in a panic and rushed to the filming location, completely overlooking the message from the other person.
Li Jin wasn’t skilled at personnel management or interdepartmental coordination, and Yu Jinzhao lacked experience in these areas. With the tight deadline and no assistant to help, she had to handle everything herself.
By the time Yu Jinzhao finished her work, it was late at night. Her mind felt like mush, and all she wanted was to rush home and sleep. Summoning her last reserves of willpower, she took a shower and collapsed onto the bed.
As she habitually glanced at her phone before turning in, a bright red notification dot caught her eye.
Yu Jinzhao jolted upright in bed.
“I heard it’s going to get colder in City A these next few days. Remember to bring warm clothes and don’t forget to take your medicine.”
The message was short and had been sent at around 7 a.m. By now, past midnight, a full seventeen hours had passed.
How many people can go seventeen hours without checking their phones?
Ahhh!
I should have checked my phone earlier! This was a rare message from Pei Daowan, and I missed it! I could die!
Forcing her heavy eyelids open, Yu Jinzhao’s mind raced as she typed furiously.
Ding!
A phone notification chimed. Pei Daowan had finished washing up and was wearing the spaghetti-strap pajamas Yu Jinzhao had helped her change into that day, ready for bed.
Pei Daowan glanced at her phone. The screen was lit, but she couldn’t make out the message.
Her lips pursed slightly, her expression hesitant. Yu Jinzhao hadn’t replied to her messages all day.
Ding ding ding!
Several more notifications chimed in quick succession, as if the sender was in a great hurry.
Finally, Pei Daowan picked up her phone to check the messages, a flicker of anticipation rising in her heart that she hadn’t even realized was there.
Sorry, sorry! I’ve been so busy today I didn’t have time to check my phone.
I’ll definitely pay more attention next time. It’s the weekend—are you resting at home?
Or did you go out? Did you have fun?
Before Pei Daowan could finish reading the first message, another one arrived.
The emotions that had been dormant all day now stirred to life. She hesitated to reply to Yu Jinzhao immediately, remembering how she had waited all day for a response.
Yu Jinzhao’s messages were coming in rapid succession, one after another, even more chatty than usual.
Waaah~ Older Sister, let me tell you, I’m exhausted! We rushed between three or four filming locations and only had one meal—a greasy takeout box that tasted awful.
Even without seeing Yu Jinzhao, Pei Daowan could picture her feigning pitifulness, her expression looking wronged as she said things designed to make her feel sorry for her.
Yu Jinzhao continued typing, but Pei Daowan didn’t reply, simply watching her vent.
Finally, Yu Jinzhao sent: Â Older Sister, are you asleep? I’m so sleepy today too. I’m going to bed soon. Good night, good night.Â
After a moment’s hesitation, Pei Daowan replied with a simple “Good night.”
Yu Jinzhao’s eyes lit up instantly. Pei Daowan wasn’t asleep yet, and she had even replied!
Okay, okay, good night, Pei Daowan! I’m going to Ancient Ning Tower tomorrow—it’s supposed to be a famous landmark in City A. I’ll take pictures for you!
Pei Daowan replied: Â Okay.
Feeling that her response was too cold, especially compared to Yu Jinzhao’s flurry of messages, she realized it sounded dismissive.
A conversation she’d overheard between colleagues flashed through her mind: If your tone sounds too stiff, add a cute emoji.
Scrolling through her emoji collection, her lips twitched slightly. Apart from the default System emojis, she had none.
No one ever sent her emojis except Yu Jinzhao, so her understanding of them came mostly from Yu Jinzhao herself.
After a moment’s hesitation, she forwarded Yu Jinzhao’s favorite emoji: a heart-shaped hand gesture.
Immediately after sending it, Pei Daowan felt a wave of embarrassment. She tossed her phone aside, buried her head under the covers, and refused to face the moment.
Even under the blanket, the phone’s notification sounds pierced through: Beep! Beep! Beep! Urgent and insistent.
After calming herself, Pei Daowan finally crawled out from under the covers and checked her messages.
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