After Failing To Tame The Scumbag - Chapter 7

“Admit defeat?”

Yun Chuxiu was in no hurry to go home.

She wandered aimlessly around her old haunts for a few laps, buying several beautiful but useless trinkets. After a brief standoff with her own inexplicably restless emotions, she chose to reschedule with her business partner.

Since they were already well-acquainted, the other party bore no ill will over the previous cancellation. Instead, they readily agreed, and the cooperation continued to move forward smoothly.

Everything went well. Yun Chuxiu became completely absorbed in her work, only realizing how much time had passed when evening arrived.

Declining her partner’s invitation for dinner, she returned to the villa area. Just as she turned into the range of her home security cameras, she saw a figure leaning over the second floor balcony, peering downward.

Ji Jin leaned against the railing and waved, still wearing her apron, whether on purpose or simply because she had forgotten to take it off.

Yun Chuxiu: “…”

Suddenly, Yun Chuxiu felt the pangs of hunger.

At the same time, she began to regret turning down her partner’s dinner invitation.

Ji Jin’s cooking skills… aside from frying eggs, everything else was a complete gamble.

Yun Chuxiu approached without much hope. Upon smelling the aroma of food wafting from Ji Jin, who seemed to radiate heat herself, she felt even more certain that this meal likely held little promise.

Out of respect for the sparkling, expectant look in Ji Jin’s eyes, she asked, “Did the auntie not come to cook today?”

Ji Jin shook her head, blinking sincerely. “I told her not to come.”

Yun Chuxiu: “?”

Ji Jin: “I wanted to have a beautiful evening with A-xiu, ideally starting right now.”

Yun Chuxiu: “…”

Feeling somewhat helpless, Yun Chuxiu offered a polite refusal: “I promised Lin Xing I’d go to the bar tonight to perform.”

Ji Jin froze for a moment, clutching Yun Chuxiu’s hand lightly, completely puzzled. “But… you haven’t performed in a long time. Inviting her today, is it because…”

“She invited me,” Yun Chuxiu explained calmly. “She said the resident singer couldn’t make it today. If you’re free, you can come along with me.”

Ji Jin frowned. Despite the explanation, she instinctively felt something was off, but knowing Yun Chuxiu’s temperament, she thought for a moment and eventually nodded.

Yun Chuxiu lowered her eyes. While Ji Jin slowly brought the warm dishes to the table, she opened her message thread with Lin Xing and quickly covered the lie she had just told.

She hadn’t fully processed her mood yet, she didn’t want to spoil Ji Jin’s spirits, but she also found it difficult to face her sudden surge of enthusiasm as she normally would.

Escape became the best option.

“Axiu, try my cooking,” Ji Jin said, leaning in close to her with fox-like eyes full of anticipation and mischief.

The lights in the house had been intentionally dimmed, and the ambiguity lurking in the shadows began to stir.

For once, Yun Chuxiu felt fortunate. The dim lighting allowed her to hide and briefly soothe her ill-timed emotions.

A few seconds of stillness passed.

She raised her hand, but before she could move, a slightly rough stick was pressed into her palm. From the bottom up, the warmth of another person faded, softening into a brilliant, flamboyant single rose.

Inside the heart of the rose was a pair of small sapphire earrings.

“It’s a return gift,” Ji Jin said, jingling the necklace around her own neck. she lowered her head, brushing a fuzzy kiss against Yun Chuxiu’s cheek.

Yun Chuxiu dithered, looking down at the heart-shaped fried egg and a certain hidden dish placed before her. She let out a soft sigh, uncertain whether it was out of helplessness or a smile.

“It’s beautiful. I happen to be quite hungry.”

She then picked up an “unidentified object” buried under the warm light with her chopsticks. The moment she lifted it, something felt wrong.

…The meat had turned black.

Expressionless, Yun Chuxiu took a bite. It was a close call; she nearly couldn’t chew through it.

Ji Jin was still watching her expectantly, completely oblivious to the quality of her own cooking. She chattered on: “Auntie taught me how to make this remotely. She even told me to save the first piece for you.”

Yun Chuxiu: “.”

That rhetoric sounded familiar. She seemed to have used it herself before, it seemed the auntie was passing on old tricks.

“You did the right thing,” Yun Chuxiu said in a gentle tone. She took a bite of the fried egg. It was a bit burnt and tasted average, but it was edible.

Ji Jin watched for a while, and the overflowing smile on her face soon collapsed. “Actually, I also had Auntie send dinner over,” she said, pushing the other plates she had intentionally placed further away toward her and pulling her own dishes back. “I know my cooking isn’t very good…”

It was just that Axiu’s tolerant and gentle expression was simply too blissful, Ji Jin thought. Nothing made her feel more at peace than these little tests.

A-xiu hadn’t changed. They could continue living their lives as they were free, and being the most important person in each other’s hearts.

Marriage was not stable.

It was like freezing a bowl of water into sharp icicles, once those constraints and frameworks were added, it became incredibly fragile instead.

Ji Jin had seen the wounds caused by shattered icicles. She didn’t want Yun Chuxiu to become like that, even if it meant only a tiny spark of disgust in her eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” Yun Chuxiu sensed a shift in the atmosphere. She interrupted the thought by picking up a piece of tender fish and feeding it to her. “I might have some drinks tonight. You’ll drive me there in a bit.”

Ji Jin nodded, swallowing the fish with a squinty-eyed smile. As she chewed slowly, she suddenly seemed happy again.

The nights at Juan Niao Bar were always lively and sentimental. Overlapping warm golden lights fell, dripping from fingertips into brilliantly colored spirits, shimmering like tiny golden waves.

“There seem to be more people than expected today,” Ji Jin remarked, scanning the scene before quickly pulling her gaze back. She turned to look at Lin Xing, who was mixing drinks. “Is it because you invited A-xiu?”

Lin Xing gave a non-committal “mm,” her emotions flat.

Ji Jin complained slightly, “If you hadn’t invited A-xiu so early, we could have had a perfect evening.”

She lowered her voice, her eyes circling the tightly closed door of the dressing room, carefully keeping her volume within the distance of a single breath.

Lin Xing’s hand paused while wiping a glass. She easily recalled the urgent request Yun Chuxiu had messaged her. She retorted coolly, “First come, first served. Sister Xiu’s time is in high demand.”

Ji Jin caught the sarcasm in the brief sentence but didn’t get angry. She continued to smile composedly. “True. Axiu has told me the same thing. But she also said that I will always be the exception.”

Lin Xing rolled her eyes, unable to take it. She shifted her posture and turned her back, unwilling to look at that smug face.

Ji Jin: “Admitting defeat already?” She drawled out the words, not knowing when to stop. “It won’t do to avoid facing me. I haven’t heard your apology yet.”

Lin Xing slammed the glass down, finally reaching her limit. “Does Sister Xiu know you have this side to you?”

“She doesn’t need to know,” Ji Jin said, her smile fading. She pulled up an audio clip on her phone and held it to Lin Xing’s ear. Even after some time, the sound of the wind as Yun Chuxiu spoke was familiar and clear.

“Did you hear that?” Ji Jin smiled politely, every word a boast. “A-xiu has personally said she is very satisfied with our current relationship. I hope you won’t think about driving a wedge between us in the future.”

Lin Xing froze, her ear instinctively leaning closer to the phone screen. She listened intently to those few plain sentences, standing motionless in silence, as if she had swallowed a mouthful of half-cooked rice.

Combined with that message asking her to cover for a lie…

Lin Xing leaned against the wall to steady herself. When she looked up again, her emotions were exceptionally complex.

Ji Jin: “Can’t take it?”

Lin Xing fell silent again. She wanted to say something but didn’t know how to even begin brushing it off.

Fortunately, the dressing room door opened.

Yun Chuxiu walked out, tidying her loose hair. Her makeup was light, and her every movement seemed out of place in the lively environment, carrying a sense of mechanical coldness.

“Why did you suddenly wear this one?” Surprise flashed in Ji Jin’s eyes. She abandoned Lin Xing and walked straight over, marvelling, “It still looks so good on you. Exactly the same as seven years ago.”

Yun Chuxiu adjusted her sleeves without looking up. “The one you gave me wasn’t preserved well, it’s unwearable now. This is just the same style.”

“…A-xiu is truly unromantic,” Ji Jin pouted, her tone resentful.

Yun Chuxiu arched an eyebrow. “Are you angry?”

“Not angry,” Ji Jin said, grabbing the sparkling waist ornament on Yun Chuxiu’s hip, hooking herself to her. Her smile was soft. “But I need a little compensation.”

Yun Chuxiu tilted her chin, signaling for her to continue.

“For the first song, Axiu can grant my wish, right?” Ji Jin hooked the ornament, her fingers inching forward, gathering the sparkling tassels into her palm until her hand pressed against Yun Chuxiu’s waist. She said, “Seven years have passed, and while the dress can’t be worn, the song still exists.”

“Back then, I was completely and utterly captivated by Axiu.”

Yun Chuxiu covered Ji Jin’s mouth. Her freshly tidied hair fell loose again, veiling her eyes, swaying slightly in the warm breeze.

“…I understand,” Yun Chuxiu said, the warm emotions melting in her eyes. She let go and stepped past her onto the high stage.

The crowd below turned their eyes toward her in unison.

Ji Jin took the best seat, directly facing the lights. Her eyes were reflected brightly.

Yun Chuxiu quietly adjusted the equipment. After testing the sound, her gaze followed the flow of light downward, without a specific landing point much like herself, faintly drifting outside the excitement and expectation.

Like an electronic butterfly briefly draped in neon.

So much time had passed so long that the hems of old dresses could no longer flutter, and the audience below had changed wave after wave.

Yun Chuxiu began to sing a melody that was no longer in fashion, winding and melodious, traveling through the ears of every listener. It wasn’t intense or heavy, it was merely like a light evening breeze, barely enough to stir a dragonfly.

The unease in Ji Jin’s heart was gradually soothed. She closed her eyes and immersed herself, hoping to hold onto more beautiful melodies intertwined with memories.

In the distant present, she continued to steal the cool, good wind that had blown back then.

“This is truly interesting.”

In an unnoticed corner, Jiang Fanyin raised her glass from afar to toast the person on stage. She shook her glowing phone screen with a meaningful smile.