Oops, I’m the Scumbag Ex in Her Storyline - Chapter 45.1

After hanging up the phone, Xin Yan rushed out, only to find the hallway completely empty.

There were exits at both ends, and a stairwell in the middle. She stood there for a while in a daze, not knowing which way Bei Lanlan had gone.

Taking out her phone again, she dialed Lanlan’s number—only to hear the ringtone ringing from her own coat pocket.

Startled, Xin Yan pulled out Lanlan’s phone and only then remembered: before the performance began, Lanlan had said she hadn’t brought her bag and asked Xin Yan to hold her phone for her.

Xin Yan: “…”

Great.

Without a phone, she couldn’t have gone far. After all, these days hardly anyone carried cash. Xin Yan wandered the campus like a headless fly, searching everywhere. Every passerby she asked said they hadn’t seen Lanlan. Standing beneath a streetlamp, her face nearly frozen stiff by the cold wind, Xin Yan finally sighed. There was nothing she could do—so she made a call for help.

Better for everyone to look together than for her to search alone.

Her whole family mobilized, leaving only the butler at home in case Lanlan suddenly returned. But after more than an hour, no one had found her.

Xin Yan herself drove aimlessly around the streets near the school. Every time she spotted a lone girl on the roadside, she’d turn her head to look carefully.

But this couldn’t go on. Parking the car, she frowned and tried to recall the events in the book.

Half an hour later, she arrived at a small park in the old city. Gazing at the thin figure seated on the steps in the distance, Xin Yan finally breathed a sigh of relief.

It was the dead of winter. She’d been driving with the windows down in the biting wind for nearly two hours—would she end up with neuralgia? She didn’t know. But her steps, as she approached, were undeniably heavy.

Lanlan didn’t hear her footsteps. Only when Xin Yan sat down beside her on the tiled steps, supporting herself with one hand, did Lanlan finally turn her head.

And then she froze in shock.

Of course, Lanlan’s “shocked” expression looked much like an ordinary person’s mild surprise—pupils contracting slightly, brows lifting just a touch. Only those two features moved at all.

“How did you know I was here?” Lanlan asked.

Xin Yan shoved her reddened, frozen hands deep into her coat. The pose wasn’t imposing in the least—nothing like the image of a domineering CEO. But right now, keeping warm was far more important.

She opened her mouth to speak but only managed two coughs before sound came out:

“You might not believe it, but I really do understand you better than you think.”

After speaking, she didn’t look at Lanlan’s expression. Instead, she squinted at their surroundings.

The park had been here for decades. Locals came by for strolls, though there wasn’t much to see—a small river cut through the grounds, with a plaza built along the bank. In the center of the plaza was a sunken light pool covered with thick glass flooring. At night, the floor glowed in colorful lights. Children loved to run over it, and the middle-aged ladies loved to dance there. The atmosphere was always lively.

Across from the plaza stretched a row of stalls—selling snacks, fortune-telling, barbecue, Yiwu trinkets. You name it, they had it.

The park itself wasn’t famous, but it was right next to one of the city’s Buddhist pagoda attractions. Sitting here at night meant you could admire the illuminated pagoda up close for free, without the tiring climb.

Back in the days before rating apps, the park was already packed. Now it was even more popular among tourists. Had Xin Yan come an hour earlier, she would have seen a sea of people, but instead she saw only litter, the howling north wind, and desolation.

When crowded, the river view was beautiful, the pagoda pleasing. But now, with no one around, the pagoda looked distorted. Its reflection in the water was pitch black, like an open mouth ready to swallow her whole.

Feeling a chill creep in, Xin Yan tried to break the silence between them.

“Have you ever heard the story of water ghosts looking for substitutes to die in their place?”

Lanlan slowly turned her head, expressionless.

Xin Yan: “…”

She shrank her neck. “I just thought, since you weren’t saying anything, I’d find a topic.”

Lanlan: “Do you think I’d enjoy that kind of topic?”

Xin Yan lowered her head. “I didn’t think that far. As long as you talk to me, that’s enough.”

It was like a feather brushed across her heart. Lanlan stiffened for a moment, but soon her frosty expression returned. She even turned away, as if not seeing would mean not caring.

Her voice was as cold and hard as her face:

“First a stick, then a sweet date. Xin Yan, you might not believe this, but I’m not as stupid as you think.”

Xin Yan: “…”

That was called hoisting a rock only to drop it on her own foot.

Knowing Lanlan was still angry about the question she’d asked earlier, Xin Yan’s face grew pained. “I don’t even know why I said that.”

Looking at her earnestly, she added, “It just slipped out.”

Lanlan turned back to her. “Things that slip out are usually the truest thoughts in your heart.”

Xin Yan: “…”

She opened her mouth, but no explanation came. In the end, she deflated and admitted softly, “Maybe so.”

Lanlan pressed her lips together, her gaze toward Xin Yan even more unfriendly.

Xin Yan rubbed her temples. “Because in my heart, I still feel… that you hate me. Even if we can sit together and talk now, even if you’re willing to smile at me, I still think you’ll never accept me.”

She paused, then gave a bitter laugh. “I don’t accept me either.”

What kind of person turns into a world-class scumbag? Who could live with that? Back then, everything had happened too suddenly for her to even complain. Later, when she had the time, she tried not to think about it at all.

It was like a scar stretched between her and Lanlan. Leave it untouched, and it seemed to have healed. But the moment it was touched, the pain stabbed straight into her heart.

Even a strange little girl at the sanatorium made Xin Yan ache for her. How could she not ache for Lanlan, right beside her?

Reading the book, all she saw was plot, catharsis, face-slapping villains. But actually being here, all she saw were people. Real, living people, with feelings and hopes.

Xin Yan didn’t think of herself as especially kind, but she truly liked helping others. That was why, after graduating, she didn’t chase high-paying jobs or accept corporate offers. Instead, she got certified and joined a small community post.

No one here knew, and very few in her original world knew, that Xin Yan had graduated from a top Ivy League university. Her English was better than that of locals. She had studied abroad in multiple countries, even served briefly with

Doctors Without Borders. Skills she rarely used now, but if she ever encountered a woman in labor too late to reach a hospital, she could deliver the child herself.

And from that image—snap!—to this one. To say she didn’t mind would be a lie. But in the end, image was just like appearance, something for others to see. She minded, but not too much. What she really couldn’t bear was the stain on herself.

Xin Yan had a touch of perfectionist cleanliness, both with her surroundings and herself. She always insisted Lanlan walk forward cleanly into her next life stage. Since she demanded that of Lanlan, naturally she demanded it of herself too.

That was her private perfectionism. She never mentioned it, never shared it. To her, it was a flaw, and one that drove her crazy.

At least Lanlan still vented her anger at her. Xin Yan, on the other hand, never told anyone these things. She just pressed them down, bottled them up, refusing to let anyone know. In this, she was almost identical to her original self.

Even now, Xin Yan had no intention of telling Lanlan the truth. She only wanted to express her feelings. To a normal person, her words would sound like remorse, self-blame, repentance.

But Lanlan suddenly asked: “What do you mean by that?”

Xin Yan blinked, startled. She looked at Lanlan, who stared back, speaking quickly:

“You can’t accept yourself?”

“You can’t accept yourself, so you want to sever ties with your past. And I’m a product of your past, so you want to sever ties with me too. Is that what you mean?”

Xin Yan froze. “Why do you always twist my words…”

Lanlan: “Because that’s exactly what you’ve been doing. You ruined my schooling, so now you help me study. You wrecked my life, so now you help me get back on track. You—”

She suddenly stopped short, realization dawning.

“That night, you told me you’d let me go after some time. I couldn’t understand why it had to be ‘after some time.’ Now I see. You wanted to fix everything you broke, repay everything you owed, and then walk away freely. Isn’t that it?”

Xin Yan’s face went blank. Being pierced right in her heart, she felt like her chest might stop altogether.

She stared dumbly, unable to speak. But Lanlan had seen her expression—it was enough. She understood everything.

Now she only felt like a fool.

Just moments ago, when Xin Yan appeared, she’d actually been moved. Her blazing anger had dimmed by half. She’d even scolded herself for being too soft. But now… now she saw she wasn’t just soft—she was brainless.

Something so obvious, and only now did she realize it.

Lanlan suddenly stood, fury radiating.

“You think I’ll be grateful for this? You think I’ll forgive you for this? Dream on!”

“To you, what have I ever been? I thought it was only strangers who couldn’t see me. Turns out you’re the same. Your plans are all perfect, everything done for me—but am I even in them? Even once? Just once, have you ever considered what I would think?!”

Xin Yan was stunned by the torrent of words. After a long moment, she pushed herself up from the steps, slowly standing.

Now Lanlan could no longer look down on her. Standing, Xin Yan was tall yet slender, the cold wind whipping her coat so it snapped and flared.

Her expression cooled. Like this, she looked almost heartless.

“Then what should I do?”

Lanlan frowned at her, offering no answer.

Xin Yan didn’t need one. Since she’d been found out, there was no point hiding anymore. She might as well say it all.

“All those years before were like a nightmare. Then one day I woke up and realized I’d done wrong. I wanted to make amends, to set things right. So I gave you everything I have—my energy, my attention, my assets, my feelings. They’re all yours now.”

“I’ve tried every possible way to figure out what you like. Just one sarcastic remark from you could leave me downcast for half a day. You always attract the wrong kind of people around you, and I worry myself sick, but I don’t dare let you know. Maybe you think none of this matters—but for me, it’s all I have.

You asked if I’ve ever considered your feelings. No. I never did.”

Xin Yan paused, looking at Bei Lanlan’s suddenly pale face. “Because you weren’t mine. Back then, you hated me. You didn’t believe a single word I said. So whether I considered your feelings or not—what difference would it have made?

You didn’t even want to see me.”

Bei Lanlan’s throat tightened, as though something was blocking it. Her vision blurred. By the time she came to her senses, she quickly lowered her head, determined not to let Xin Yan see her expression. A rush of grievance welled up inside her, but she forced it down and tried to speak in a steady tone.