Oops, I’m the Scumbag Ex in Her Storyline - Chapter 52

Xin Yan glanced at the road ahead, then at Bei Lanlan, who was still waiting for her to speak. Lanlan looked somewhat caught off guard, as if unprepared. After several seconds, Xin Yan finally found her voice.

“Lanlan…”

“What does it feel like—to like someone?”

Bei Lanlan’s half-closed eyes opened fully. She slowly straightened up, her wide, unblinking gaze locking onto Xin Yan as if it was a pair of hooks sunk deep into her flesh.

Xin Yan’s heart was already uneasy, and Lanlan’s stare only made it worse. She couldn’t understand why Xin Yan would suddenly ask such a question.

Had someone said something to her? Or had she realized it herself?

Was she genuinely asking, or was there some hidden meaning?

Countless thoughts raced through Lanlan’s mind in an instant, but none of them stopped her from answering:

“To hold her in my palm, tightly—so that she can only ever look at me, only ever pay attention to me.”

Xin Yan: “…”

That answer was a little terrifying. But seeing Lanlan’s calm, almost detached expression, she began to wonder if maybe the problem was with her own perspective.

More importantly, when Xin Yan tried to measure that answer against herself, it didn’t quite fit.

She wasn’t the kind of person overflowing with possessiveness. Hold someone in her palm? Please—how was she supposed to hold a living, breathing person like that? At most, she’d want the people around her to check in three times a day, and if someone went out, she’d arrange a few bodyguards to follow and keep them safe.

That was protection, not surveillance. Surveillance didn’t count… right?

And as for “only ever look at me”—that was logically impossible. People had to go outside, after all. What, was Lanlan never supposed to step out of the house again? That’d be a violation of basic human rights! She’d never go that far. At most… well, at most if Lanlan interacted with strangers, or with people Xin Yan found suspicious, she’d have someone run a background check.

Just precautionary measures. Nothing wrong with that.

As for the last part—“only ever pay attention to me”…

That was harder for Xin Yan to deny. Because Lanlan truly only paid attention to her. Toward others, she never even bothered to put on a polite smile. Xin Yan had never thought much about it before, but now that she did, she realized she rather enjoyed it.

Xin Yan: “…”

Wait a second.

Didn’t that mean it did fit?

Lanlan watched her expression shift from red to black to pale, growing increasingly impatient. Finally, she asked, “What are you thinking about?”

Xin Yan’s mind was a mess. She forced herself to answer, “Mm… I was thinking, when I have time, I want to visit your mother.”

Lanlan’s face brightened. “Sure! When shall we go?”

Xin Yan hesitated, then said sheepishly, “I can go alone. You’re always so busy, aren’t you?”

Lanlan’s smile faltered. The moment Xin Yan turned her head back to the road, the smile vanished altogether.

Xin Yan genuinely wanted to visit Li Jingshu. With the history between her and Lanlan, falling in love with her was no simple matter. And given her personality, Xin Yan couldn’t start a new relationship while old problems still lingered in the past. She needed to “clean house” before she could give herself fully.

But when Lanlan heard her words, combined with what had just been said, she misunderstood.

Xin Yan first asked what it felt like to like someone. Then, using Lanlan’s mother as an excuse, she suddenly wanted to visit Lu Wanqiu.

Lanlan remembered how, after coming back from the sanatorium that day, no matter how many times she reassured Xin Yan that she was fine, Xin Yan still didn’t believe her. Just one look at her expression told Lanlan she would go there herself eventually.

She just never expected it would be under circumstances like this.

Lanlan’s expression at that moment could no longer be described as merely “ugly.” If Xin Yan had just glanced her way, she would have been startled. But Xin Yan, lost in her own tangled thoughts about the difficulties ahead, didn’t notice.

________________________________________

The truth was, Xin Yan still wasn’t sure.

Even though Xu Fei had said it, and Lanlan had given her answer, it still wasn’t what she imagined.

She had never truly liked anyone before. But she’d seen TV dramas, movies, even real couples—sweet, inseparable, their chemistry obvious even when they didn’t speak.

But her feelings toward Lanlan…

So plain.

When Lanlan was in front of her, her heart didn’t race. When she left on business trips, she didn’t pine away. And as for kissing, hugging, wanting to cling forever—that simply wasn’t the case.

Could that still count as liking someone?

This question lingered, unanswered, even as Xin Yan walked into the sanatorium.

Xu Fei had said she cared especially for Lanlan, and this kind of care only appeared with her. That much, Xin Yan admitted. So maybe Xu Fei’s other claim—that she liked Lanlan—was also true. But still, she felt a bit disappointed. And guilty.

If this was how she expressed liking someone, then wasn’t the person she liked… a little unlucky?

Thinking of her real reason for coming, she felt even guiltier.

________________________________________

When Xin Yan arrived, Li Jingshu was working on a clay craft. She had signed up for the sanatorium’s pottery class, and hearing Xin Yan had come, she eagerly carried out three little figurines she had made.

Xin Yan was waiting in her living room when Li Jingshu bustled in, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. Seeing Xin Yan rise, she quickly waved her back down.

“No need, no need, sit. I’ll bring you something to eat. How was the rib soup last time? Lanlan said you were sick—are you better now? You must take care of yourself. Money can always be earned, but your body—you only get one.”

Xin Yan answered obediently, “I’m all better. I drank lots of the rib soup.”

That reply pleased Li Jingshu far more than a simple “It was good.” She smiled. “That’s great. I wanted to make it for you again, but… last time something must have gone wrong. A few of the nurses here ended up with food poisoning, so now they won’t let me cook anymore.”

Xin Yan froze. “You’re alright, though?”

“Strangely enough, yes—it didn’t affect me at all!”

Xin Yan: “…”

After fussing about with a fruit plate and hot tea, Li Jingshu finally sat down beside her, smiling warmly. “So, what brings you here today?”

Xin Yan hesitated, then raised her head. “Auntie, would you like to be discharged?”

Li Jingshu was stunned.

“You mean… I can go home?”

Xin Yan fumbled, “Not back there. I mean, if you insist, it’s fine, but I was hoping you might live closer to us. I’ll hire the best nutritionist and caretaker for you. If you like the nurses here, I can even poach them with higher pay. That way Lanlan can visit you often. And I… if you don’t mind me intruding, I’ll visit too.”

Li Jingshu studied her words, then asked, “You’ll come together?”

Xin Yan nodded.

“And often?”

Xin Yan: “…”

That tone… did she not want her and Lanlan visiting together?

Given her past mistakes, it was only natural if Li Jingshu didn’t want her too close to her daughter.

Xin Yan drew in a deep breath. But she couldn’t just back down.

“If you don’t like it… I’ll come less often.”

But not coming at all was impossible. This was Lanlan’s mother. For Lanlan’s sake, Xin Yan had to show her face now and then.

Afraid she had offended her, Xin Yan watched nervously, ready to launch into a string of apologies. But Li Jingshu only looked at her. Quietly.

After half a minute, she raised a hand and dabbed at the corner of her eyes.

Xin Yan panicked—had she made her cry?!

She shot to her feet. But Li Jingshu, seeing her overreaction, laughed quickly and waved her back down. Her eyes were still red as she smiled. “Don’t mind me. I was just… just thinking, my Lanlan has had such a hard life.”

“She grew up without a father, and I had to work. I sent her to school at three, and by middle school she was boarding. I thought she’d resent me, but she never did. She never blamed me for not being there. Later, when I got sick, she never blamed me for the burden either…”

Xin Yan fell silent. Lanlan’s earlier years had been tough. But her hardest years were the ones spent with Xin Yan by her side.

She thought the story would end there. But it didn’t.

“My daughter’s always been so sensible, never asked me for anything. I’d buy her toys, or a phone, and all she ever said was ‘thank you, Mom.’ I knew that wasn’t what she really wanted. What she wanted was for me to bring her home.

But in all my life, I never managed to give her that. Luckily, now she has you.”

Xin Yan blinked, stunned. Then emotion welled up and she whispered, “Auntie…”

Li Jingshu looked at her with eyes full of tolerance and motherly love Xin Yan had never dared hope for. “Everyone makes mistakes. I wasn’t a perfect mother either. The past can’t be changed. But there’s a saying: after bitterness comes sweetness. I hope your marriage—like Lanlan’s life—can be bitter first, then especially sweet.”

It was going so smoothly Xin Yan could hardly believe it. Overwhelmed, she blurted out, “Auntie, I’ll never make the same mistakes again. I… I love Lanlan. I’ll treat her well for the rest of my life!”

Caught up in Li Jingshu’s warmth and generosity, the words burst from her chest before she could think. When she realized what she’d said, she froze. But Li Jingshu only chuckled indulgently. Young people were so bold with their words. She herself would never have dared say such things aloud.

Although she gave Xin Yan her blessing, she didn’t agree to move out just yet.

It wasn’t about money. Moving out or not cost Xin Yan less than a single rescue boat on the cruise ship she planned to buy. The real reason was that she could tell the two of them weren’t fully settled yet. She didn’t want to intrude as a third wheel.

She’d wait until their relationship was more stable, until no small conflict could shake them, before considering it.

Xin Yan never left Li Jingshu empty-handed. This time, she carried away two clay pigs Li Jingshu had made. Supposedly, they were meant to be a family. Xin Yan liked the symbolism and placed them carefully in her sports car.

But she forgot—there had originally been three pigs. She took two. The third, Li Jingshu hadn’t kept either. She had sent it next door.

Lu Wanqiu turned the little pink pig in her hand, asking the person beside her, “What did they talk about?”

Recently, Nurse Huihui had been speaking less with her. This time, the answer came from one of her old subordinates, a frequent visitor at the sanatorium.

“Miss Xin asked Mrs. Li if she wanted to move out. She wanted to arrange a medical team for her. I didn’t catch the rest, but judging from Mrs. Li’s expression, she seemed very happy.”

Lu Wanqiu squeezed the figurine slightly. The pig’s tail, fragile as it was, nearly snapped off. Amateur work was always flimsy. Staring at the soon-to-break tail, her expression darkened.

“Good. Once she moves out, no one will bother me anymore.”