Wish to Get Rich But Wear a Scumbag A - Chapter 16

“Hello, Sister-in-law!”

Qi Xingwan: “???”

At the door, Shen Tinglan, who had been jolted awake by the car window, asked Yan He how she should address Qi Xingwan.

“He’er, should I call her Teacher Qi or Sister-in-law?”

“Tell me honestly, what are your feelings for her now?”

“I heard you made her dance that kind of dance in front of those riffraff the other day. Isn’t the seven-year itch supposed to kick in? Are you already bored?”

“If you ask me, if you’re bored, you’re bored. I can introduce you to other types of Omegas. But she’s still your Omega for now. You can argue in private, but don’t undermine her in front of outsiders. Don’t do that again.”

Shen Tinglan let out a drunken burp and continued nagging her friend to turn back before it was too late.

Looking back at the original novel, only Shen Tinglan had the patience to listen to the Original Host until she finished speaking. Others either lacked the courage to speak up or were met with the Original Host’s fiery temper and insults after just a few words.

Yan He nodded vigorously, relieved to finally have an excuse to explain her change of heart. As expected of my greatest ally, she thought. She handed me a pillow just as I was starting to doze off.

“Don’t worry,” Yan He said. “I’ve thought it through. I’ll treat Qi Xingwan well from now on, stop hanging out with those people, and only spend time with you!”

Love is exclusive, and so is friendship.

With just one sentence, Yan He had Shen Tinglan cooing like a baby. The moment she stepped inside, she shouted “Sister-in-law!” at Qi Xingwan, her voice louder than a banshee’s wail.

Yan He clapped a hand over her mouth. “Shh! Don’t yell like that!”

I finally managed to calm the scoring system down. Don’t scare it off with your shouting!

Shen Tinglan, now thoroughly drunk, stumbled and clung to Yan He, waving her free hand upstairs and slurring, “Hello, Sister-in-law!”

Yan He followed her gaze upward, her eyes meeting Qi Xingwan’s as she descended the stairs. A shiver of panic ran through her.

Qi Xingwan, who had been fetching slippers for a guest, paused. “She—”

“I texted you!” Yan He blurted out, desperate to avoid any misunderstanding.

“Mm. I saw it.” Qi Xingwan helped steady Shen Tinglan. “I didn’t know when you’d be back, so I had the kitchen divide the noodles among everyone.”

“It’s fine. I’ll have the kitchen whip something up later. You go back upstairs and get back to work.”

“Not just anything! I want to order!” Shen Tinglan frowned. “Call the chef over! And you guys go take care of… A’Cong! Yes, go take care of A’Cong!”

At the mention of A’Cong, Qi Xingwan’s gaze toward Yan He turned complex, tinged with pity, as if she were looking at someone mentally challenged.

She retrieved the onion. “Here’s your A’Cong.”

“I’m really drunk,” Shen Tinglan slurred, “I mistook your pet for an onion, ha ha ha!” She rubbed her eyes in disbelief and poked A’Cong. “Good boy, say ‘Auntie’~”

Qi Xingwan glanced at Yan He and teased, “Your A’Cong doesn’t seem to know how to talk yet.”

Yan He: “……”

Damn these scorekeepers with no sense of boundaries.

Qi Xingwan had come downstairs after hearing Shen Tinglan’s voice.

She hadn’t met Shen Tinglan often. The previous encounters had been before the wedding, when Shen Tinglan would either accompany Yan He to the film set or deliver things for her. The last time was at the wedding, where Shen Tinglan had showered the bridal party with red envelopes.

Qi Xingwan had heard plenty about Miss Shen in the industry: the posthumous daughter of President Shen’s late wife, cherished above all else.

Yan He and Shen Tinglan were practically the Golden Horned King and Silver Horned King of Jiang City’s social scene. The two of them were notorious for causing trouble wherever they went, even grabbing stray dogs to shave their fur.

In the past, after a night of drinking, the pair would inevitably end up at Night’s Delight. Just earlier, a friend had asked if Yan He was home. Yet here she was, back with a completely plastered Shen Tinglan.

Watching Yan He fuss over the drunk, Qi Xingwan couldn’t help but notice she seemed genuinely different.

Could a rotten person suddenly turn over a new leaf?

Qi Xingwan didn’t believe it.

Yan He had never dealt with a drunk person before. After much dragging and shoving, she finally managed to dump Shen Tinglan onto the sofa. When she turned around, she saw the brilliant and formidable female lead, Qi Xingwan, still sitting in her chair, staring intently at her.

Yan He jumped in surprise. “Why are you still here?”

She immediately realized her mistake.

The damn Original Host must have brought friends home to bully the female lead before, triggering her PTSD.

“Leave this to me,” Yan He said. “I’ll make her some hangover soup, then dunk her in cold water a couple of times. You go back to your room and work on the script. I’ll come find you after I’ve dealt with her.”

“Alright. You… drink less,” Qi Xingwan paused, then added, “Don’t get up in the middle of the night and bang your head again.”

This new Yan He is much better for variety shows—at least she’s obedient.

Yan He’s heart pounded like a drum, convinced she’d been exposed.

Even long after Qi Xingwan left, she was still replaying her actions, scrutinizing every detail for any slip-ups.

Shen Tinglan lay sprawled on the sofa, rubbing an onion against her face repeatedly. “He’er, your pet seems a little dead. I keep poking it, but it won’t move.”

As she spoke, her eyes began to sting like they were being pricked with needles, tears streaming uncontrollably.

Shen Tinglan’s alcohol-addled brain was slow to process. She wiped her tears with the onion-stained hand, sniffed her fingertips, and exclaimed in delight, “He’er, my eyes can spray disinfectant! Can yours do that too?”

Yan He: “……” You just had to turn this into a competition, didn’t you?

“Miss, the hangover soup is ready,” Aunt Mei, the newly appointed housekeeper, announced. Yan He addressed her as Aunt Mei.

After the morning’s incident, Yan He had immediately transferred the talkative Aunt Wu to another villa as housekeeper.

Adhering to the principle of “supplies first, troops second,” Yan He promoted the original head chef to housekeeper.

As the saying goes, “A chef who doesn’t aspire to be a housekeeper isn’t a true head chef.”

On Aunt Mei’s first day in her new role, the kitchen’s efficiency noticeably improved.

Shortly after Yan He gave her instructions, the kitchen served up “three dishes and a soup.”

The soup was hangover soup.

Yan He grabbed Shen Tinglan by the neck and poured the soup down her throat in large gulps.

Her movements were practiced and graceful, clearly honed from feeding countless small animals.

Shen Tinglan, still somewhat dazed, protested, “Are you feeding a pig? My mom used to feed me like this when I was little…”

Yan He chuckled. “Then from now on, you can call me ‘Sister’ in public and ‘Mom’ in private. We’ll keep things separate. How’s that sound?”

“Get lost,” Shen Tinglan crawled up like an insect and slid off the bed onto the floor. “What’s this—is this all you’re feeding me?!”

“After drinking that much, what else do you expect?” Yan He pushed a bowl of congee with preserved egg and lean pork toward her. “Have some porridge to soothe your stomach.”

“Then why do you have two bowls?”

“There’s more in the pot. I’ll refill if you want.”

Shen Tinglan kicked Yan He’s leg. “Go get me another bowl and divide it. I want to eat with two bowls too.”

Yan He: “……”

At nine o’clock that evening, Yan He, having reached her breaking point, punched the drunken Shen Tinglan unconscious.

Just kidding. She merely dragged Shen Tinglan into the home theater and played a lecture on advanced calculus for graduate school entrance exams.

In less than ten minutes, the intoxicated woman had grasped the profound truths of the universe.

Let’s give a round of applause to our math teacher!

At 9:15 PM, Yan He pushed open the door and saw the wise and mighty female lead, Qi Xingwan, sitting inside.

The female lead was perched on the bay window, legs crossed, studying a script. Hearing the noise, she set down the script and looked up.

Yan He fled in terror, the door slamming shut behind her like a sledgehammer crushing her fragile heart.

Inside the room, Qi Xingwan stared after her, utterly bewildered.