Oops, I’m the Scumbag Ex in Her Storyline - Chapter 38.2

Li Jingshu shook her head.

“No—Lanlan isn’t quite like you.”

Aside from looks, Lanlan couldn’t compare to Xin Yan in terms of personality or emotional maturity.

Xin Yan found Li Jingshu quite interesting. Most parents endlessly praise their kids. Li Jingshu, though, seemed to downplay hers. Maybe it was just humility—but Xin Yan didn’t like hearing that kind of modesty.

To her, Lanlan was the best in the world. Even if the one saying otherwise was Lanlan’s own mother, she couldn’t agree.

After a while, when the time felt right, Xin Yan stood to leave. Neither of them had brought up any sensitive topics—not the divorce, not their relationship, not the past few years. As she left, Li Jingshu even handed her a small gift.

It was a red Chinese trumpet creeper flower, delicately crafted with thread.

Xin Yan flipped it over and noticed a loose thread sticking out from the back, along with some visible signs of wear.

…cough.

Apparently, Li Jingshu had no idea Xin Yan was the one responsible for all that thread-wearing trouble. Still smiling, she explained,

“It was originally for Lanlan, but you can have it. When Lanlan comes next time, I’ll make her a new one.”

The trumpet creeper, also known as the “Loving Mother Flower,” symbolizes a mother’s love for her child.

Xin Yan paused. She didn’t refuse the gesture—if Li Jingshu didn’t truly want to give it, she wouldn’t have offered.

“Thank you. I really like it.”

Sure enough, hearing that made Li Jingshu beam with joy.

“I still have my crochet hook. Next time you both come, I’ll make you a shawl and Lanlan a scarf.”

Xin Yan politely declined. “That’s too much trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all—I enjoy it.” Li Jingshu said.

Having refused once, she didn’t want to turn it down again, so Xin Yan just smiled and didn’t commit to anything.

Li Jingshu walked her to the door. Only after Xin Yan had left did she let out a long, slow breath.

Lanlan, sweetheart… This is as much as your mom can help.

……

Originally, Xin Yan had planned for a quick visit—ten minutes at most. She hadn’t expected to run into Li Jingshu, let alone stay for two hours.

An Zhiyuan and Xiao Zhang were so stiff from sitting, they couldn’t feel their legs.

The drive back home or back to the office was about the same, distance-wise. But Xin Yan didn’t want to go to either place.

Too much had happened today. She felt like she desperately needed a short break.

She told Xiao Zhang to take Assistant An back to the office first. Then, she went down to the company’s underground parking lot and found a Cadillac that had been sitting there for at least six months.

She drove to a place called No Loud Talking.

Usually, she only visited the bar in the early afternoon, when it was mostly empty. This was her first time seeing the place so full of life—and it took her completely by surprise.

Finally, the soul mentor and bartender No.1 arrived at work—but she was so busy, she didn’t have a moment to spare for Xin Yan. Not that Xin Yan minded. She wasn’t in the mood to join the crowd; she just wanted some quiet time to reflect on life.

By a little after six in the evening, the sky outside had already turned dark. Xin Yan didn’t head back to the bar. Instead, she found an empty table, sat down, and ordered a non-alcoholic peach jelly drink along with a salad.

The food options here were quite limited, and Xin Yan didn’t want to risk trying anything new. A salad, at least, was always straightforward—no surprises, no matter how it was made.

Once the salad arrived, Xin Yan glanced at her phone.

6:30 PM. Three and a half hours to go—just in time to pick up Lanlan.

The bar during the day and the bar at night were two completely different worlds. As night fell, customers poured in wave after wave. A live singer performed at the front, and that’s when the bar truly lived up to its name. Despite the crowd, it never felt too noisy. Laughter drifted through occasionally, but it stayed within tolerable limits.

Xin Yan rested her head on her hand, lost in melancholy as the soft, soulful music played in the background.

Just as the atmosphere was at its peak, a familiar figure appeared in front of her. A surprised, delighted voice called out:
“Xin Yan!”

She looked up to see Xu Fei. Shocked, she blinked. “What are the odds?”

Xu Fei laughed brightly. “I was just about to say the same thing. I just got off work from the TV station. We’re airing a pre-recorded show tonight, so I got off early. Didn’t you say you wouldn’t be coming tonight?”

Xin Yan paused, then explained, “It’s a special situation.”

Xu Fei sat across from her, raising an eyebrow. “Your sister?”

Xin Yan smiled modestly, guessing she’d hit the mark. “Yeah, she gets home too late. I just don’t feel comfortable letting her go alone.”

Xu Fei shook her head. “You’ve got to learn to let go. If you keep this up, she’ll never become independent.”

Xin Yan changed the subject. “What are you doing here?”

Xu Fei replied, “Waiting to take her out for a late-night snack.”

Xin Yan: “…”

The disdain in her eyes was obvious.

Xu Fei flushed slightly, trying to defend herself. “It’s different with me, okay? You came here willingly. I was forced. You volunteered; I was guilt-tripped.”

“Oh really?” Xin Yan said casually. “What did she do to ‘force’ you?”

Xu Fei hesitated, then admitted, “She said if I didn’t come, she would be upset.”

Xin Yan: “…”

She tried to hold it in. Really, she did. But eventually, she couldn’t help herself. “Have a little dignity, would you?”

The two women locked eyes, realizing neither of them had the upper hand in this battle. They quietly moved on from the topic. Xu Fei called over a server and ordered the exact same things as Xin Yan. They ate and chatted as they always did.

Though their initial connection had been forged through the headaches caused by their respective family members, that wasn’t all they had in common. They talked about work, life, and everything in between.

Xu Fei had been having some trouble at work lately. Ever since she hosted an interview with Jing Chu and Kong Zhiluo, she’d gotten a taste of something different. Compared to dry, pre-recorded programs, she much preferred live shows with real guests. Unfortunately, there was stiff competition at the station, and the position wasn’t guaranteed to be hers.

Sighing, Xu Fei said, “When I first joined the station, I was young and promising. Now that I’m older, the station’s all about promoting fresh faces. For someone like me, it’s tough to get noticed.”

Xin Yan looked her over. “You think twenty-five is old?”

Xu Fei blushed. “Oh, stop flattering me. I’m actually twenty-eight.”

Xin Yan was the same age, though people always praised her for being young and accomplished. Making a living off your youth wasn’t easy. She sympathized. “If the only criteria for hosting is age, maybe it’s time to switch stations. Surely not every network is that outdated.”

Xu Fei thought for a moment. “Maybe… but I would have to discuss it first.”

With whom? There was no need to ask.

Xin Yan frowned. “You keep saying you want to lay things out honestly, but you let her make all the decisions. Isn’t this your career? If you’ve made up your mind, just do it. Why care what anyone else thinks?”

Xu Fei laughed. “You say that like you’re any better. Didn’t you say you were going to come clean? And yet here we are, still sitting together like always.”

Xin Yan: “…It’s not the right time.”

“Oh? And when is the right time?”

Xin Yan replied, “In six months.”

Xu Fei nodded knowingly. “Funny. That’s exactly what I said last year.”

Xin Yan: “…”

But Xin Yan felt she was different from Xu Fei. After all, Bei Lanlan had no real feelings for her. Two people without feelings couldn’t live in this messy limbo forever. Divorce was inevitable, and once that happened, Bei Lanlan’s departure would be inevitable too.

Of course, she couldn’t explain all this to Xu Fei. Let her think what she wanted. In six months, reality would speak for itself.

At 9:30, Xin Yan left the bar. Xu Fei stayed behind, as usual, parking by the university gate. In her own car, Xin Yan turned on the overhead light and sent a message to Bei Lanlan, letting her know she was waiting outside.

She expected Lanlan wouldn’t be done until at least ten, maybe later—but just ten minutes after she hit send, Bei Lanlan came out.

Her breathing was a little unsteady as she stood under the streetlamp, scanning the area. Xin Yan rolled down the window and waved. That’s when Lanlan spotted her.

Sliding into the passenger seat, Lanlan beamed. “I told you there was no need to pick me up!”

Xin Yan always felt her mood lifted whenever she saw Lanlan. Smiling, she turned and helped her buckle the seatbelt. “It was on the way. Did that Professor Liu actually let you out early? I thought someone like her wouldn’t budge even a minute.”

Lanlan started to reply, “She—”

But halfway through, she stopped. Xin Yan looked at her, puzzled—only to feel Lanlan’s hand press against her shoulder. Lanlan leaned in and sniffed near her collar.

Xin Yan stiffened instantly, instinctively trying to lean away, but Lanlan wouldn’t let her. In fact, sensing her retreat, Lanlan grabbed her shirt tighter.

Staring at the small mole on Xin Yan’s collarbone, Lanlan said softly, “Bergamot.”

Xin Yan’s brain nearly froze. “…What?”

Lanlan pursed her lips and looked into her eyes. “You smell like bergamot.”

Not just bergamot—there were other notes too. A blend of fragrances from some unknown perfume. Faint at first, but unmistakable up close. It lingered all over Xin Yan.

Xin Yan never wore perfume. Neither did Lanlan. Which meant—this scent belonged to another woman.

Frozen in place, Xin Yan suddenly recalled the tea that Lu Wanqiu had handed her earlier. But tea wouldn’t leave such a lingering fragrance. Then it hit her—before brewing the tea, Lu Wanqiu had turned on a humidifier.

There had been perfume in it. Bergamot-scented perfume. And she hadn’t even noticed.

Lanlan’s grip on her shirt tightened. Xin Yan opened her mouth, but no words came out. She looked down at Lanlan, who was now very close—staring right back at her.

Here we go again.

Why was it that every time she left for even a moment, another woman showed up around Xin Yan? Was Xin Yan just too alluring, or were those women blind to Lanlan’s existence?

It was infuriating.

No one took her relationship with Xin Yan seriously—not those women, and not Xin Yan either.

The air inside the car seemed to grow thinner. Xin Yan didn’t know what Lanlan was thinking, but her gaze grew more dangerous by the second. Her grip had twisted Xin Yan’s shirt into a mess, nearly yanking the collar open.

And then, Xin Yan had a bad feeling.

Lanlan suddenly leaned in, intending to kiss her. But before their lips met, Xin Yan instinctively turned her head. Lanlan ended up kissing her hair instead.

She froze, stunned at what she’d just done, and immediately let go as if burned.

Both of their minds went blank. But the first to recover was Xin Yan.

Composing herself, she smoothed down her hair and sat back properly. With a calm smile, she started the engine. “I must’ve picked up someone else’s perfume at the bar. I’ll make sure to take a good shower when I get home.”