Oops, I’m the Scumbag Ex in Her Storyline - Chapter 48

An Zhiyuan spent nearly the entire afternoon at the sanatorium. As soon as he came out, he immediately called Xin Yan.

Having overslept in the morning, Xin Yan was now sitting in her bedroom, staring blankly at her own reflection in the mirror.

On days when she went to the company, she wished for nothing more than a single day off—just to sleep. Now that her wish had come true, she found it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as she had imagined.

She looked down at her palms.

…Somehow, her hands just didn’t feel right if they weren’t holding something.

At first, Xin Yan thought she was simply missing her phone. But when she pictured herself holding it, she shook her head. No—the phone was too small. What she really wanted was to hold a file in one hand, and a pen in the other.

Realizing what exactly she was missing, Xin Yan’s whole body jolted in shock.

…Had it really been that little time? And she had already sunk this deep?!

She was still sitting there with the look of someone struck by lightning when An Zhiyuan’s call came through. Xin Yan picked up the receiver, steadied her breathing, and finally answered in a faint, exhausted voice:

“Did you find out anything?”

Walking as he spoke, An Zhiyuan nodded. “The sanatorium said the explosion was caused by faulty wiring in the microwave. Uneven heating led to a fire, which then caused the blast. When it happened, Mrs. Li was already preparing to sleep. She was in her bedroom and wasn’t affected. They said she was badly startled last night, but she’s fine now. I spoke with her for a while—she doesn’t seem shaken.”

Xin Yan sounded doubtful. “You’re sure?”

An Zhiyuan looked at the heavy bag of beef patties in his hands—at least two kilos worth—and silently nodded. “I’m sure.”

When he arrived, Li Jingshu had looked as if nothing had happened. With the guilty microwave carted away, she had simply set up a griddle in the kitchen instead. She was already mixing dough and preparing fillings, intending to improve meals for herself and her nurse. The sanatorium’s food was all bland broths—not terrible, just tasteless. Even if patients were allowed to cook, they weren’t allowed oily or salty food. The meat filling had been smuggled in by the nurse at her request.

When she learned who An Zhiyuan was and why he’d come, her delight was plain as day. She had been worrying about making too much food and having no one to eat it—now, problem solved.

The poor assistant didn’t realize she was simply using him as a convenient way to destroy the evidence. Embarrassed yet flattered, he accepted the bag of patties.

So warm and gentle—she reminded him of his own mother, retired and still living back in their hometown. Every time his mother cooked for him, it had the same kind of homely generosity.

Xin Yan, of course, had no idea he was lost in this wave of maternal sentimentality. She frowned. “And what about what I asked you—anything on Lu Wanqiu?”

At this, An Zhiyuan’s posture sharpened, his voice instantly turning serious. If one listened closely though, there was an unmistakable undertone of gossip.

“Boss Xin, I couldn’t find any direct connection between Lu Wanqiu and yesterday’s incident. But guess what I did find.”

“…”

Xin Yan snapped, “Who has time for your riddles?!”

“…”

He had clearly spent too long with Li Jingshu and was still stuck in her small-talk rhythm. Her bark jolted him back to normal. “Apologies. What I found was—Lu Wanqiu has moved out of her old ward. She had the hospital remodel a regular room into an intensive care suite. And now—she lives right next door to Mrs. Li.”

Xin Yan was stunned. “Next door?!”

He nodded. “And Mrs. Li said she’s already visited her, and plans to keep visiting.”

“…”

So her dear mother-in-law had practically delivered herself right into the wolf’s den.

For a long while Xin Yan didn’t know what to say. Finally, she forced out, “She can live wherever she wants, but what’s the sanatorium even doing?!”

An Zhiyuan blinked. “But… patients always get to choose where they want to stay.”

“…”

She faltered, then tried again from another angle. “She’s a special patient, isn’t she? Special patients should be in special wards. And they even remodeled a room just for her—the sanatorium isn’t her private estate!”

“I heard she’s holding something over them,” An Zhiyuan said.

Xin Yan’s ears perked. “What do you mean?”

He shook his head. “Only the higher-ups know. The people I spoke to had no idea either. They’re just as curious, but the administration has shut everything down—strict gag order, no one’s allowed to ask questions.”

Xin Yan was speechless. If no one knew anything, what was there to say?

Still, she wasn’t all that curious. Lu Wanqiu was the sort of person who, when cornered, could fabricate leverage out of thin air. She had no bottom line.

Exhaling slowly, Xin Yan said, “Alright. You’ve worked hard. Here’s the deal—take Friday off. Don’t worry about company matters Saturday or Sunday either. Three full days. Rest, go on vacation, or visit home—whatever you like.”

An Zhiyuan blinked. “But what if something comes up at the company?”

Xin Yan said confidently, “You’ve got me. I’ve got energy to spare these days!”

“…”

After hanging up, Xin Yan turned the matter over in her head.

…Though really, there wasn’t much to think about. In the novel, Lu Wanqiu had done this to Bei Lanlan. Now, she was doing the same to her. The only difference was that Xin Yan had already confiscated all the lighters in the sanatorium, making arson harder—so Lu had staged something even bigger.

Lu Wanqiu wasn’t guided by any moral compass. The fact that Li Jingshu wasn’t harmed wasn’t because Lu thought her innocent, but because she knew hurting her would make Xin Yan furious, which would disrupt her plans.

Unyielding, shameless, reckless—what could possibly be done against someone like that?

Xin Yan brooded. Two minutes later, Bei Lanlan pushed open her door.

“Come down for dinner.”

She didn’t even knock anymore. But Xin Yan didn’t notice. She just turned to look at her.

Bei Lanlan’s expression carried a faint trace of doubt, as though a question mark hovered above her head.

Xin Yan thought for a moment. In the end, she decided Bei Lanlan was right.

Patting the round chair beside her, Xin Yan said, “Later. Come sit—I need to tell you something.”

Fifteen minutes later, Xin Yan drained yet another glass of warm water—her fourth already.

Bei Lanlan watched, worried she might make herself sick from drinking too much.

Xin Yan didn’t want to, but she couldn’t help coughing, and every time she coughed, she reached for more water out of habit.

“…So, I’m still uneasy. Tomorrow, I want to see for myself. Will you come with me?”

Bei Lanlan lowered her head without answering.

Thinking she needed time to digest all this, Xin Yan let her be. After a while, Bei Lanlan looked up again—her face much calmer than Xin Yan had expected. “No. I’ll go alone. You stay home.”

Xin Yan blinked, then protested immediately. “Didn’t you hear me explain what kind of person she is?”

“I did,” Bei Lanlan said evenly. “But I still think I should be the one to go.”

“Why?”

Bei Lanlan extended her fingers, counting one by one. “The person she desperately wants to see is my wife. The person she schemes against in secret is my mother. Our family only has so many people. What she’s doing is stepping right on my throat. Tell me—shouldn’t I go? Who else is more suited than me?”

“…”

Xin Yan froze, then realized she had almost been swayed. “I never said you shouldn’t go. I said we should go together.”

Bei Lanlan shook her head. “No. You’re not well enough to leave the house.”

“I am,” Xin Yan retorted.

Bei Lanlan looked at her, then suddenly pulled out her phone, holding it between them.

On the screen was the stopwatch function.

Xin Yan stared, bewildered. “What are you doing?”

Bei Lanlan held up three fingers. “If you can go three minutes without coughing, I’ll admit you’re recovered.”

“…”

Forget three minutes—she couldn’t even manage one.

In the end, Xin Yan couldn’t win. The next morning, dressed in pajamas, she personally sent Bei Lanlan off, nagging nonstop.

“Explain to your mom that I’m sick and you had to stay to care for me. And that it was my fault for not telling you sooner—blame everything on me!”

She spoke with such righteous conviction. Bei Lanlan only gave her a light glance. “But isn’t that the truth?”

“…Just check on your mom. Don’t go near Lu Wanqiu—she’s dangerous. Stay far away from her.”

Bei Lanlan smiled. “Got it.”

Xin Yan eyed her warily. “You’re not going to see her, right?”

The smile lingered. “Of course not.”

“…”

Even with such a firm answer, her heart still twisted uneasily…

After Bei Lanlan left, Xin Yan went back inside. Soon, An Zhiyuan would arrive with documents that needed her signature—something at least to distract her.

Meanwhile, the very same Bei Lanlan who had promised she wouldn’t, stepped into the sanatorium lobby and immediately asked to be taken to Lu Wanqiu’s ward.

Behind her, her driver Xiao Zhang fell silent.

Today, he too feared that one day he might know too much for his own good—and be silenced.

The staff led Bei Lanlan to the building where both Lu Wanqiu and Li Jingshu resided. Though the rooms had been remodeled, the building itself was unchanged. There were only two elevators for everyone to share—no private, direct access like the ICU suites.

After yesterday’s beef patties, Li Jingshu’s long-dormant appetite for hearty food had been awakened. Today, she was making pork rib soup. The ribs had been bought outside, pre-cut, ready to marinate and boil. The clay pot sat on the induction stove. As soon as it was set down, she retreated to the living room—the microwave incident had left her wary. Unless necessary, she didn’t dare stand too close.

She was watching the time when she suddenly saw a familiar figure step out of the elevator.

“Lanlan!” she cried in delight, hurrying forward. “You’re just in time—Mom’s making rib soup, your favorite.”

Bei Lanlan paused, turned, and smiled. “Alright, I’ll have some later.”

Then she nodded to the staff and followed them toward Lu Wanqiu’s isolation ward.

“…”

Her daughter had come to the sanatorium, but not to see her. Li Jingshu’s heart gave a dull ache. She went back to mind the stove in silence.

Inside, Bei Lanlan passed through two doors before she finally saw Lu Wanqiu reading.

Compared to their last meeting, nothing about her had changed—same clothes, same tranquil air. At the sound of footsteps, she turned, her expression pausing slightly when she saw Bei Lanlan alone. Then she smiled faintly.

“We meet again.”

Her lips curved, but her eyes were anything but kind. Calm, taunting, she studied Bei Lanlan, drawing her hands back from the chair’s armrests to rest neatly on her lap—sitting as though prepared, waiting for Bei Lanlan to lose control and lash out.

But Bei Lanlan didn’t. She smiled too—sincerely. “Last time you were watching variety shows. This time, you’re reading. Not bad. Progress.”

“…”

“You came just to judge my progress?” Lu Wanqiu asked dryly.

Bei Lanlan shook her head and sat down. “You’ve gone too far. A-Yan’s upset. But she’s sick right now and couldn’t come, so I had to.”

Lu Wanqiu studied her oddly. The last time they met, Bei Lanlan had looked ready to devour her alive. Even a dog would’ve barked at the sheer hostility in her eyes. But now, she seemed calm. Was this some trick?

A soundless smirk tugged at Lu Wanqiu’s lips. She thought she saw through her—just an act.

“She’s upset, so now you’re happy?” Lu Wanqiu mocked.

Unexpectedly, Bei Lanlan nodded in earnest. “In love, A-Yan’s a slow burn. We quarreled recently, and though we made up, she promised to change. But she’s slow—it could take a month. I was prepared to wait. Then you pulled this stunt. You forced her hand, made her decide faster. And since you targeted my mother, her thinking got clouded by emotion. She ended up confiding in me, valuing me even more.”

Bei Lanlan sighed lightly. “Back in politics class, I never understood why intensifying domestic conflict then shifting it abroad could dissolve internal strife. Now I get it. Thanks to you.”

She smiled again. “You take the role of villain, I reap the benefits. Lu Wanqiu, I almost find you less detestable than before.”

“…”

…Really?

Because to Lu Wanqiu, Bei Lanlan had never seemed more loathsome.