Oops, I’m the Scumbag Ex in Her Storyline - Chapter 47

An Zhiyuan couldn’t understand.

In his impression, Bei Lanlan had always been the type to rise to power on her looks alone—kept on ice for years, only to reveal a few sly tricks once she finally got her chance. Faced with someone like that, what was there to fear?

That was what he told himself.

But fear was fear—and he really was afraid.

Especially when Bei Lanlan pushed a glass of peach juice toward him with a smile, politely inviting him to drink. Alarm bells clanged in his mind.

He didn’t think she was trying to bribe him—on the contrary, it felt like a threat.

Back then, she’d pretended she had to order peaches from outside, when in fact she already had them at home. At the time, he hadn’t noticed. But recalling it now, he realized—she hadn’t said a single word. She had only stepped out, then returned a few minutes later with her phone in hand. If Xin Yan had questioned her, she could easily have brushed it off: You misunderstood.

And now, deliberately placing that peach juice before him—in An Zhiyuan’s eyes, this was her silent warning:

I know all about your little tricks. Best start talking.

…

It was hard to tell at first glance, but Assistant An was, in fact, a man of backbone.

He withstood the weight of Bei Lanlan’s gaze, refused to sell his soul, refused to betray Xin Yan. No matter how she probed, his answer never wavered: he was only here to check on President Xin, and now he had to return to the office.

Seeing she wouldn’t get anything out of him, Bei Lanlan didn’t press. One hand resting lightly on the kitchen island, her fingers tapped the surface in a slow, steady rhythm—once, then again two seconds later.

Unable to stop himself, An Zhiyuan stared at her hand. He couldn’t help but imagine she was deciding, Should I kill him today or tomorrow? With a knife, or a gun?

But in the next second, Bei Lanlan smiled at him pleasantly.

“Take care on the way back. I’ll check on A-Yan tomorrow morning and let you know if she can make it to the office. These next few days may be hard on you. Please take care of yourself.”

Overwhelmed, An Zhiyuan stammered out thanks twice before leaving, walking away as if questioning the very meaning of his life.

Bei Lanlan watched him go, then lingered another ten minutes before finally carrying the peach juice upstairs.

Xin Yan was sleeping soundly, cheeks flushed. This time it wasn’t the fever’s sickly flush, but the healthy pink of rest.

The sight stirred irritation in Bei Lanlan’s chest. She could accept Xin Yan hiding things from her—but confiding in An Zhiyuan instead? Calling him to the house behind her back? How stupid did Xin Yan think she was, to not notice something was going on between them?

Fueled by that resentment, Bei Lanlan strode to the bedside, sorely tempted to slam the cup down just to wake her. But after a few seconds of silent struggle, she sighed in defeat, picked up a coaster, and set the juice down gently.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she noticed beads of sweat on Xin Yan’s forehead. Bei Lanlan tugged down the blanket Xin Yan had pulled up to her neck.

Yesterday, after realizing she was ill, Bei Lanlan had raised the room temperature by two degrees to help her sweat the fever out. Now the room was nearly thirty degrees; even stripped bare, she wouldn’t have felt cold.

Bei Lanlan looked around, but the remote control was nowhere in sight. She reached under Xin Yan’s pillow and blanket, searching.

Xin Yan’s sleeping posture was a mess. When she’d had a fever, she hadn’t moved an inch, but now that it had broken, she was all over the place—probably too warm, tossing and turning every few minutes. At some point she must have rolled the remote into the covers and pinned it beneath her thigh. How could she not find it uncomfortable?

The wide silk quilt hid everything from view, and Bei Lanlan, intent on fixing the temperature, didn’t think twice. When her fingers finally found the remote, she smiled triumphantly and slipped it free.

Straightening up, she froze.

Xin Yan’s eyes were open, fixed steadily on her.

Bei Lanlan: “…”

She hadn’t expected to be lost for words. “…I was just getting the remote.”

Silence.

Of course Xin Yan knew she was getting the remote—the thing was right there in her hand. But if she hadn’t explained, it wouldn’t have been strange at all. The moment she explained, though, the atmosphere turned weird.

Bei Lanlan realized this too. She could almost feel the blood rushing hot beneath her skin.

Propping herself up, Xin Yan coughed lightly, then sat up to break the awkwardness. “What time is it?”

Bei Lanlan checked her phone. “Eleven ten.”

Xinyan nodded. “Assistant An left?”

Bei Lanlan glanced at her, then gave a quiet “Mm.”

Neither spoke further. The silence dragged, heavy and awkward, until Bei Lanlan finally broke it.

“Did you know you had a fever yesterday?”

On the road, Xin Yan had been drowsy. The moment she got home, she’d collapsed into a deep sleep, unaware of the doctor’s visit, unaware of how much Bei Lanlan had scrambled to care for her.

Thinking back, she rubbed her temples. “I just felt unwell. I didn’t realize it was a fever. Now that I think about it, I really had been shivering nonstop…”

She’d assumed it was because she wasn’t dressed warmly enough, and regretted not wearing her down jacket.

Bei Lanlan’s face darkened. Forget it—past was past. She wouldn’t bicker with a patient.

Still, she couldn’t resist a jab. “Funny, that’s not what you said last night. When it was below freezing, you complained it was too hot and even tried to take your coat off.”

Xinyan: “…”

She’d been out of her mind with fever—so muddled she couldn’t even tell hot from cold.

Refusing to admit that foolish person was her, she insisted, “Oh… I don’t remember.”

Bei Lanlan studied her. “Really don’t remember?”

Xin Yan nodded, expression stern and righteous. “That’s right. I truly don’t.”

“And the rest?”

Her nodding faltered. She looked up at Bei Lanlan—who was already looking at her.

Xin Yan knew exactly what she meant. Honestly, the fever had been bad; much of it was a blur. Without Lanlan’s prompting, she wouldn’t have remembered half of it. As she struggled to recall, Bei Lanlan leaned closer.

She’d been sitting at the bedside before. Now she shifted to perch right by the pillow. With the slightest tilt, Xin Yan’s shoulder would brush against her.

Xin Yan stared, dumbstruck, unsure what she intended. Bei Lanlan turned fully toward her, eyes locking on hers, and smiled.

“It’s fine if you don’t remember. I’ll just say it again.”

She paused two seconds, then spoke solemnly:

“I’m sorry. Yesterday I was willful. I ran out without a word, made you search for me in the freezing cold, and worried everyone. I shouldn’t have done that. I was too angry, and when I’m angry, I act rashly.”

Listening, Xin Yan’s gaze softened. “It’s alright. Everyone loses their temper sometimes.”

As long as you don’t repeat it, it’s nothing at all.

She didn’t voice that last part, but Bei Lanlan seemed to hear it anyway. Moved, she clasped Xin Yan’s hand, sealing the unspoken words.

“Thank you for not blaming me. I promise, I’ll try to control myself. If I really can’t, then just come find me alone. I’m easy to find—you don’t need to send an army.”

Xinyan: “…”

So in the end, you still want me running after you!

Exasperated, she sighed. “Can’t you just… not run off at all?”

“That depends on you,” Bei Lanlan countered. “Can you promise not to make decisions behind my back again?”

Xinyan faltered. “I don’t…”

Lanlan held her gaze.

After a pause, Xin Yan compromised. “Fine. I’ll try too.”

Perhaps her illness had given her a touch more temper than usual. Unlike her normal accommodating self, she offered only a promise she couldn’t truly guarantee. “But if something happens that’s beyond my control, I’ll still act on my own judgment. I want to protect you—even if you don’t want me to.”

Bei Lanlan couldn’t help laughing at her proud, self-righteous look. “And I’ll be the same. If you only think of yourself without considering whether I want your protection—or whether I’d rather protect you—I’ll still get angry. I won’t run, but I’ll make you worry. And that worry will hurt more than anything outsiders could do.”

Xinyan: “…”

Cutting straight to the heart… is this really my gentle, sweet Lanlan?

She fell silent. People often mistook her easygoing nature for softness, but at times she was far tougher than Bei Lanlan. Normally she maintained her composure. But just after illness, her body focused on recovery, leaving no energy to keep up appearances.

Expressionless, she radiated such severity that even An Zhiyuan would have weighed every word carefully in her presence. Bei Lanlan, however, met her gaze a moment longer, then sighed and relented.

Her voice softened—the kind Xin Yan liked best. “I know you mean well. But you’re not my parents. We’re family now, aren’t we? Only parents give without expecting anything back. You’re not my parent, so I want to give back to you too.

Everything you want to give me—I want to give you as well. When you shut me out, I get angry. I’m an adult too. You always say I’m strong, that I’m capable—were those lies? If I’m really as capable as you say, why can’t I face everything with you?”

Xin Yan blinked. She had never considered it from that angle. To her, Lanlan was both fragile—someone she had to protect—and invincible, someone no one else in the world could compare to.

Such a contradiction.

She didn’t know what to say. But Lanlan was perceptive, not pushing her for an immediate answer. Straightening up, she said gently, “Think about it. Rest well. I’ll head out first.”

Before leaving, she leaned down and hugged Xin Yan lightly.

A faint rose fragrance clung to her—some kind of body lotion, perhaps. It wasn’t cloying, but fresh and subtle. Xin Yan liked it very much. When Lanlan let go, she even had the urge to lean forward, to breathe it in again.

First her defenses had been softened, then sealed with an embrace. By the time Lanlan left the room, Xin Yan was left dazed, her head swimming.

It was a long while before she gradually came back to herself.

…Resting well was impossible now. She decided to follow Lanlan’s first instruction instead—think it over.