Oops, I’m the Scumbag Ex in Her Storyline - Chapter 43.1

Jing Chu was called out today by a friend.

Europe was where she had studied; she had been to several neighboring countries countless times. Normally, the day before an official concert, she would never go anywhere—only by resting could she guarantee being in her best state.

But when she heard that a friend wanted to meet her in Florence, she inexplicably agreed. Even that friend hadn’t expected it, since it had only been a casual remark with no real intention of following through.

Jing Chu’s sudden acceptance caught her completely off guard, forcing her to scramble and act the part of a host. She quickly called a few Chinese girlfriends and hastily put together a little group to keep Jing Chu company.

At first, everything went smoothly. Jing Chu wasn’t aloof at all, she mingled and laughed with everyone. But at some point, she grew noticeably quieter. Her friends assumed she was simply tired. After dinner, they thoughtfully escorted her to her car.

When the little “welcoming committee” sent Jing Chu off, they said to her friend with a sigh, “You two must be really close—she came all this way to see you even with her busy schedule.”

Her friend: “…”

In truth, their relationship wasn’t nearly that close.

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When Jing Chu’s concert was just opening, Xin Yan was boarding her flight home.

Technically, she should have been there—but instead, she slept soundly through the flight. By the time the plane landed, it was three in the afternoon. Bai Lanlan had already been waiting outside for two hours.

This time, Xin Yan was prepared. When she saw Bai Lanlan, she wasn’t nearly as surprised. Standing at the arrival gate, she waved. Bai Lanlan spotted her and broke into a bright smile.

She quickened her pace toward Xin Yan, and when only a couple of steps remained between them, she suddenly broke into a run—then lightly but firmly threw her arms around her.

Xin Yan froze. She hadn’t yet decided whether to return the hug or gently push her away, but before she could react, Bai Lanlan released her on her own. Tilting her head up, her tone soft and sweet, she said, “You’re finally back.”

Bai Lanlan’s eyes practically sparkled. Her lips were slightly pursed, caught somewhere between a pout and a playful whine. The little curls of her long hair—once something Xin Yan had found odd—now looked more and more natural to her. In the chilly air of the arrivals hall, those soft curls looked almost fluffy, making one’s fingers itch to touch them.

Xin Yan thought it. And then she did it.

She raised a hand, her long, slender fingers first resting gently on Bai Lanlan’s head. Slowly, they slid down, catching a lock of hair between her fingers before brushing it back over Bai Lanlan’s shoulder.

She didn’t speak, only smiled faintly as she looked at her. Xin Yan’s palm was warm, and Bai Lanlan felt that warmth trail across the side of her neck. Her eyes widened in surprise.

Xin Yan didn’t know what was going through her head, but she could see her eyes growing brighter and brighter.

At this rate, they wouldn’t need lightbulbs at home anymore.

Xin Yan cleared her throat lightly, snapped her fingers behind her, and Assistant An silently stepped forward.

“Leave the luggage. You can go home and rest. Take the day off—I’ll see you at the office tomorrow afternoon.”

An Zhiyuan couldn’t imagine what he’d do without work, but he didn’t refuse her kindness. “Thank you, President Xin.”

Once out of the airport, they parted ways with the assistant. Xin Yan couldn’t wait until they were home—right there in the parking lot, she took out the gift she had bought. Standing by the car, Bai Lanlan looked at her expectantly as Xin Yan peeled away layer after layer of packaging. Finally, after pulling aside the protective stuffing, she revealed the statue inside. Smiling, she handed it over.

Bai Lanlan cradled the statue, her expression flipping instantly from anticipation to amazement. “It’s beautiful—”

Her voice stretched out that last word, but after staring for a while, she still couldn’t figure out what exactly it was supposed to be. It had butterfly wings, the face of a grown woman, a dress, and—strangely—a hood.

After some thought, she felt she had it figured out. Hugging the statue, she said, “Thank you. I love this… magical fairy.”

Xin Yan: “…”

Her smile froze. “That’s the Blue Fairy. From Pinocchio.”

Bai Lanlan: “…”

So that’s why the dress was so long.

Awkwardly clutching the statue, Bai Lanlan looked a bit lost. Xin Yan, on the other hand, was calmer—though faintly helpless. It seemed she had chosen something she liked, but not something Bai Lanlan could appreciate.

They put the statue away and got in the car. Xin Yan said, “Next time I’ll make sure to buy you something you like.”

Bai Lanlan: “But I really do like this one.”

Xin Yan: “…You didn’t even know who she was.”

Bai Lanlan was quiet for a moment before replying smoothly, “Now I do. She’s a fairy-tale character you love. Which means she’s part of your childhood. The fact that you gave her to me… I really, truly love it.”

Xin Yan was taken aback. “How did you know I liked her?”

Bai Lanlan cast her a light glance. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have recognized her.”

Xin Yan: “…”

Well, that was true.

Bai Lanlan added, “Besides, if you didn’t like her, you never would’ve given her to me.”

From her tone, Xin Yan picked up a trace of pride, almost smugness. She couldn’t help laughing. “Still, when it comes to giving gifts, it’s better to consider the recipient’s taste. Next time, I’ll try to lean toward yours.”

Bai Lanlan: “Then you’ll have to really get to know me.”

Xin Yan nodded. “I’ll try.”

That topic passed quickly. Xin Yan then asked, “Has anything happened at home while I was away?”

Bai Lanlan answered without hesitation: “No, everything’s normal.”

Xin Yan didn’t quite believe her. After all, aside from sleeping at home, Bai Lanlan spent nearly all her time outside. When they arrived home, she asked the butler again, but got the same answer.

And the butler—whom she had repeatedly warned to report everything—also insisted that nothing was out of the ordinary. Suspicious, Xin Yan called the company’s security team leader to ask.

Same answer. No gifts, no visitors, not even a single unfamiliar face.

Back in her room, Xin Yan sat in heavy silence.

Something wasn’t right.

Her business trip had caused her to miss Lu Wanqiu’s ominous “See you next week.” She had expected warnings, threats, at the very least some kind of pressure after she returned. But nothing?

Xin Yan felt a chill creep into her chest.

She had been prepared for a prolonged battle of attrition, even imagined how to handle Lu Wanqiu if she lost her mind. In every scenario, it was move and countermove—never this… one-sided shadow play.

…Perhaps tomorrow she should send someone to the sanatorium to find out. Until she knew what Lu Wanqiu was up to, she wouldn’t be able to relax.

In Xin Yan’s anxious imagination, Lu Wanqiu was a grinning butcher, sharpening a knife in the dark, waiting to strike.

But in reality, Lu Wanqiu was quietly sitting in a reading room with a book in her lap.

For five days now, she had been cut off from the outside world. A new nurse had confiscated her laptop, phone, and every other internet-capable device, only returning them for two hours a day before taking them away again, no exceptions.

Her old staff had been dismissed. Two new caregivers had been assigned, working shifts. One female, fresh out of medical school with three years of experience; the other male, with nothing impressive in his résumé except six years on the job.

It was the man who was on duty now.

When Lu Wanqiu closed her book, he immediately walked over. “Back to your room?”

She lifted her gaze toward him.

He’d only been here five days, but he had already been ingratiating himself with the nurses’ station and showed none of the restraint of her former caregivers. They used to simply follow orders, nothing more. This man was different—too familiar, too intrusive.

Lu Wanqiu looked at him for a long moment, then suddenly smiled. “Mm. Push me back.”

Her smile rattled him to the core. Honestly, he had never expected to be this lucky—assigned to care for such a beautiful patient. His previous charge had been a cranky old man in his sixties who sent him to work every day in a foul mood.

Apparently, because of staffing shortages and “special circumstances,” the department head had decided to send a male caregiver here. He didn’t know what those circumstances were—only that this was an opportunity he had to seize.

The patient was a long-term resident. If he performed well, he could stay here indefinitely.

Sure, never seeing the sun was a bit suffocating, but compared to the salary, it was nothing. His plan was simple: curry favor with the head, get on good terms with the nurses, and eventually find a way to make this patient completely dependent on him.

A patient who could never leave—as long as she listened to him in all things, his life would be so much easier.

He thought his scheme was perfectly hidden. No one could possibly see through it.

But Lu Wanqiu had been watching him closely all along. And the more she observed, the more she wanted to laugh.

Lowering her eyes, she sat quietly in her wheelchair, saying nothing. No one saw her thumb press lightly against the bone of her index finger… then relax again as if nothing had happened.

When they returned to the ward, Lu Wanqiu asked gently, “Could you pour me a glass of water?”

Her tone was faint, almost fragile. Though reluctant, he complied, handing her the cup. Just then, her fingers brushed his hand.

A touch was just a touch—but this one made his heart jolt violently. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at her, only to meet her calm gaze for a fleeting second before she lowered her head again, sipping quietly at her drink.

But his heartbeat didn’t calm. He stood off to the side, hands clasped behind him, eyes fixed on her figure.

That afternoon, he should have gone off duty, but instead he insisted on swapping shifts—claiming he had family matters tomorrow and would cover the night shift today.

The female caregiver didn’t think much of it. She slept soundly at home, unaware that chaos was erupting at the sanatorium.

By two in the morning, even the director—who had been attending a meeting in another city—was summoned back. The deputy director and the department head rushed in, both drenched in sweat despite the subzero temperatures outside.

In Lu Wanqiu’s ward, the on-duty nurse stood frozen, too frightened to speak. Huihui, her former nurse, happened to be covering a different ward that night. When she heard what had happened, she immediately rushed over, eyes red like a rabbit’s, looking far more like a victim than Lu Wanqiu herself.

Outside, the department head was nearly ready to hang himself in despair.

The male caregiver, however, was still protesting, “I didn’t! This is all a misunderstanding—just a misunderstanding!”

The deputy director barked a laugh. “Sneaking into a patient’s room in the middle of the night and fondling her hand—this is a misunderstanding?”

“I-I-I only wanted to check on her condition. I called her, but she didn’t wake. I thought she’d fainted, so I—so I…”

The department head clutched his head, looking utterly miserable. “If you’re going to make excuses, at least make them believable! Miss Lu isn’t even a critical-care patient. Why on earth would you need to check on her in the middle of the night?”

The caregiver: “…”