Oops, I’m the Scumbag Ex in Her Storyline - Chapter 31.1

Bai Lanlan stared at those few words for a long time. Then, with deliberate care, she restored the file folder to its original condition and placed it back exactly where she’d found it.

She hadn’t told anyone what she’d seen. There were no surveillance cameras in Xin Yan’s office, so no one knew she had read the contents inside.

At 7:00 p.m., Xin Yan called, estimating the time just right. By then, Bai Lanlan was already home and had finished dinner. She was sitting in her bedroom, sorting through the homework her university professors had assigned.

Well—“homework” was a bit of a stretch. It was actually just a midterm assignment. Since it was senior year, the teachers were considerate and didn’t require students to return to campus for in-class exams.

Assignments were enough to fulfill the requirement.

Midterms and finals were scheduled close together. Once the midterm was submitted, the final would be just a month away. After that, Bai Lanlan would have completed all the credits she needed for graduation and could finally focus on her thesis.

It looked like a tight schedule, but honestly, it was more for appearances. The students all knew they had more than enough time.

As one of the outsiders being “fooled,” Xin Yan only waited two seconds before Bai Lanlan’s voice came through the phone.

She sounded a little excited, and the background noise was lively. “Lanlan! Have you eaten yet?”

Bai Lanlan paused a moment before replying, “I have. You’re not back at the hotel?”

Xin Yan chuckled. “Nope, I’m still out. You know how it is with these heavy industry companies—the higher-ups are mostly older men, and they just love their liquor.”

Bai Lanlan frowned. “Do you have to drink too?”

Xin Yan replied, “No way. I can barely handle a single cocktail, and they’re drinking baijiu. Don’t worry, An Zhiyuan’s blocking for me. He’s a seasoned pro at this stuff.”

She glanced at her watch and realized she’d been away from the table a bit too long. “I should head back. I heard it’s going to get colder the next couple of days—Lanlan, make sure you dress warm, okay?”

Just as she was about to hang up, Bai Lanlan blurted out, “Wait, you—”

Xin Yan made a questioning sound. “Hm? What is it?”

But when the words reached her lips, Bai Lanlan changed them: “When are you coming back?”

Xin Yan wasn’t sure herself. She sighed in frustration. “I don’t know yet… Lanlan, is something wrong?”

After a moment’s silence, Bai Lanlan shook her head, not caring whether Xin Yan could see. “No. Just asking.”

Relieved by her response, Xin Yan said a few more casual words before hanging up. She washed her hands symbolically, then quickly returned to their private dining room.

On the other side, Bai Lanlan set down her phone and stared at her computer screen, but her eyes weren’t focused on any of the text.

Divorce.

Divorce…

Once they divorced, she would finally be free. No more pitying, condescending, or envious stares. No more being reduced to Xin Yan’s shadow.

Once they divorced, no one would be able to control her. She could do whatever she wanted—be alone if she liked, travel wherever she pleased. The world was vast, and nothing could trap her anymore.

Once they divorced, she could finally return to the life she had dreamed of for so long. A life without Xin Yan.

She’d been counting these “benefits” all day—while working on assignments, while lying in bed trying to fall asleep.

But the more she counted, the more restless she became. She couldn’t sleep at all.

Her chest felt tight—heavy with sadness, frustration, even panic.

Didn’t she say she liked her? How could she let go so easily?

Bai Lanlan couldn’t understand Xin Yan’s actions—or her own feelings.

Wasn’t this supposed to be a good thing? Wasn’t she the one who used to dream, every single night, of leaving Xin Yan?

So why did everything feel so wrong now?

…

The next morning, before the butler could come wake her, Bai Lanlan had already come downstairs.

Just as Xin Yan had said, a northern wind had swept through last night, along with a fall rain. The temperature had dropped to just twelve degrees Celsius. Bai Lanlan had changed into a cashmere sweater, thick pants, and a Burberry blend trench coat.

It was rare to see her so bundled up. The butler was still frozen in surprise when she approached him and said, “I’ve got something to take care of today. I won’t be going to the office.”

With that, she turned to leave. The butler quickly snapped out of it and chased after her. “Miss, where are you headed? Let the driver take you. And breakfast—won’t you eat something first?”

“I’ll go on my own. I’ll eat out.” Bei Lanlan said.

She had long legs and youth on her side; the aging butler couldn’t catch up to her. In the blink of an eye, she had already walked out the door. In the four years she’d lived here, she had always been well-behaved.

No one expected this sudden defiance.

The driver came over to the butler. “Aren’t we going to follow her?”

The butler replied, “At this rate, if we do, she’ll probably just get angry.”

A gardener holding oversized shears walked over. He was familiar with everyone since he’d been working on the landscaping renovations. “But if we don’t follow her, won’t President Xin be furious?”

From upstairs, a housekeeper poked her head out. “We should at least tell President Xin what happened.”

The butler fell silent.

Of course he knew that. But he was also worried that if he told Xin Yan, Bai Lanlan would get even angrier.

He let out a weary sigh. A month ago, none of this would’ve happened. But ever since Jing Chu’s engagement, President Xin had completely changed. The more indifferent she used to be toward Bai Lanlan, the more concerned she had become now.

There’s a reason people say even dogs avoid couples in a fight—he truly didn’t want to get caught in the middle of their mess.

…

After shaking off everyone at home, Bai Lanlan walked for a long while before hailing a car.

But her destination wasn’t as mysterious as everyone imagined.

An hour later, the car reached the outskirts of the city, near the border of another province. In most places, this would’ve been a rural township. But here, the village had been relocated. A large conglomerate had spent a fortune to buy this idyllic land and transform it into a world-class convalescent center.

The staff here all held at least master’s degrees in medicine. The facility had natural hot springs, a greenhouse the size of three football fields, and top-tier medical zones—including high-surveillance wards. Its resources rivaled those of provincial hospitals, but they didn’t accept ordinary patients. Only the severely ill or long-term residents could receive care here.

Bai Lanlan got out and headed straight in. The driver glanced at the sleek modern gates and couldn’t help but marvel.

So this was the ridiculously expensive wellness center. Rumor had it that many celebrities and top officials sent their loved ones here. He wondered what the inside looked like.

After a brief moment of curiosity, he drove away.

Bai Lanlan filled out paperwork at the front desk and waited nearly ten minutes before a nurse arrived to escort her to one of the rooms inside.

The shared spaces all followed a unified modern aesthetic, but each patient’s room reflected their own personal style. It was less of a hospital room and more of a second home. If a patient could still care for themselves, there was barely a trace of clinical atmosphere.

Bai Lanlan’s mother lived in a room like that. After four years, it had become increasingly homey under her touch. When Bai Lanlan walked in, her mother was sitting by the window, carefully winding embroidery thread around a bare wooden stick.

After hesitating briefly, Bai Lanlan lightly knocked on the windowed door. Hearing the sound, Li Jingshu turned and saw her daughter standing outside. For two seconds, she looked stunned—then quickly got up and opened the door.

With the door open, everything inside came into sharper focus. Seeing the mother she hadn’t visited in so long, Bai Lanlan smiled awkwardly. “Mom.”

Li Jingshu, seeing her daughter’s stiff demeanor, smiled gently after a beat. “Come in, quick.”

Like a wind-up toy, she didn’t stop moving—pulling out a chair, pouring tea, tidying the messy coffee table, rummaging through cabinets to find snacks she’d been saving.

She bustled around nonstop, chatting as she went. “It’s so cold today—how did you get here?”

“You didn’t make an appointment, did you? Xiao Gao didn’t tell me you were coming. You can’t do that next time—the rules here are strict. If some VIP’s staying here, they might not even let you in.”

She handed Bai Lanlan a cup of herbal tea and lowered her voice, sounding conspiratorial. “Guess who I saw in the spa area last week? You’ll never believe it.”

But Bai Lanlan wasn’t really listening. Her gaze kept sweeping over the room’s furnishings. When her eyes landed on the colorful beads and strings on the desk, she asked, “Are those the DIY kits they sell online?”

Li Jingshu nodded. “Yep. I had Xiao Gao buy them. I saw some girls on TV making them, and they looked really cute, so I wanted to try. But Xiao Gao said some materials can’t be brought in—they’re toxic. Scissors and needles aren’t allowed either. I have to use a lighter to melt the ends of the string.”

Bai Lanlan frowned. “But lighters are dangerous too—how come they allow that?”

Li Jingshu rolled her eyes. That was exactly the kind of thinking that left her slicing watermelon with the edge of a plate in the middle of the night.

“This place isn’t an airplane. They don’t ban things because they’re dangerous—they’re just afraid some patients might have… suicidal tendencies. Sure, lighters are risky too, but there are smoke detectors everywhere. You light a candle, the director gets an alert.”

She grumbled, “I don’t even have those tendencies, but they use a one-size-fits-all policy.”

Bai Lanlan smoothed the tablecloth, making it lie flatter. “Do the other patients come visit you?”

“Of course,” Li Jingshu answered proudly. “Everyone loves dropping by my room.”

Bai Lanlan looked up at her with a smile. “Then do you understand why they won’t let you keep stuff like that?”

Li Jingshu didn’t answer. She just looked at her daughter, gaze soft and warm.

It had been a very long time since they’d last seen each other.

Four years ago, right after Li Jingshu’s diagnosis, her condition deteriorated rapidly. She spent a whole year in a near-vegetative state. Even when she woke up, her mind remained clouded. Three years ago, she regained clarity but was bedridden. Another year passed before she could function like a normal person again. Still, the aftereffects lingered, and would remain for life.

Though her condition had stabilized, her body remained fragile. Her immune system was severely weakened. While she didn’t need to stay in a sterile room, it was best to avoid crowded places.

The convalescent center had set visitation limits: one visit per week, no more than two visitors at a time. Ever since she regained consciousness, Li Jingshu had been waiting for Bai Lanlan to visit. Three years passed—and finally, she had come.

Xin Yan had never forbidden her from visiting. It had always been Bai Lanlan who refused.

So this should’ve been a deeply awkward reunion, but Li Jingshu’s warmth dispelled all the discomfort. She treated Bai Lanlan as always, as if they’d never been apart.

Some things didn’t need to be said out loud. Bai Lanlan knew why her mother was being so gentle. And Li Jingshu understood why her daughter had stayed away for so long.

Because she didn’t want to face it.

Didn’t want to face the fact that she’d traded her marriage and her life for medical expenses. Didn’t want to see the guilt and disappointment in her mother’s eyes. Didn’t want to confirm that she may have made a decision that disappointed everyone.

That was in the past, though. Bai Lanlan had come today. That meant something had changed.

Whether it was for better or worse—was still unknown.

But Li Jingshu’s instincts told her, with near certainty, that it was for the worse.

From the moment Bai Lanlan stepped through that door, Li Jingshu had mentally prepared herself: no matter what her daughter had gone through, no matter what decision she’d made, she had only one response—support.

No one knew Bai Lanlan better than she did. Her daughter had never been the type to endure in silence. When others were crushed by oppression, losing their sense of self, Bai Lanlan only buried her fury deeper—and one day, it would come back with a vengeance.

Li Jingshu took a quiet breath. She reminded herself that no matter what Bai Lanlan said next, she must remain calm. She must never be the one to hold her daughter back again.

The two sat across from each other, teacups in hand. Like a formal meeting.

Bai Lanlan didn’t keep her waiting long.

She lifted her gaze and said plainly, “Xin Yan wants to divorce me.”

Li Jingshu’s heart clenched. But outwardly, she remained serene and nodded. “I’ve been doing much better. The doctor says as long as I avoid too much contact with outsiders, I’ll be fine. I suppose I can keep up with the times and be a homebody now. Shall we go back to our old house? I would still like to live there.”

Bei Lanlan paused, finally realizing her mother had misunderstood. “No, I’m not here to discharge you from the hospital.”

Li Jingshu froze as well. “You’re divorced. I’m supposed to keep staying here?”

How boring.

Besides, is Xin Yan really that kind of person? This place isn’t cheap—the daily cost is comparable to staying in the ICU.

Bei Lanlan frowned. “No, what I mean is—I don’t want the divorce.”

Li Jingshu was silent for a moment. “I think I didn’t hear you clearly. What did you just say?”

Bei Lanlan knew her mother was being deliberately obtuse, but she still repeated herself patiently, “Xin Yan wants a divorce. But I don’t.”

Li Jingshu: “…”