After Being Scummed – Chapter 2
by Little PandaWait, it really is Zuo Jingyou!
After returning from the evening party, Yin Bai pushed off all business meetings. As a conscientious capitalist, she even gave Zhang Yu a week-long short break.
After Zhang Yu dropped her back at the villa in Baihe Shanzhuang1, she gleefully went off on vacation.
Yin Bai didn’t need to think to know that after Lu Qing won the big award at the awards gala and proposed to Xiao Nian, the internet would absolutely be buzzing about it.
To avoid suffering further hurt, after getting home, she wisely turned off her phone, then shut down all the network devices in the house, forcing herself not to look at any news about Xiao Nian and Lu Qing, hiding away in her home theater to silently nurse her wounds.
For two days straight, Yin Bai hid in the home theater, rewatching all the major films Xiao Nian had starred in during the nine years since her debut. In the end, she couldn’t stand the hunger anymore, finally crawling out of the home theater, taking a shower, calling hotel room service for food, and only recovering a bit of vitality after eating.
The late April spring sunlight was lovely. After having brunch, Yin Bai, wrapped in a silk nightgown, curled up on the first-floor sofa, applying a towel wrapped around ice cubes to her eyes. She let out soft hisses now and then from the cold.
These past two days in the home theater, seeing things that reminded her of Xiao Nian, she’d clutched a tissue box, reminiscing about their past days together while crying like a f%cking moron, literally crying her eyes swollen shut.
Now her eyes ached intensely, making it somewhat difficult to even open them.
While applying the compress, Yin Bai thought self-mockingly, this was probably her reaping what she sowed2. Who told her to be so arrogant when she was young, not knowing how to love someone, thinking a mere contract could bind them for life, that Xiao Nian’s interests would always align with hers?
Now look, she’d had an awakening, gotten away from the capitalist, away from the cruel ‘big dye vat’3 of the entertainment industry, and gone off to pursue her ideal life. Serves you right. You deserve it. Serves you right for crying yourself into a f%cking moron.
Lying on the sofa, Yin Bai wallowed in self-abandonment for another round. After lying there a while, the home phone suddenly started ringing—ring ring ring—startling her so much she jumped.
She removed the ice compress towel, turned her head, and squinted towards the landline phone, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Who would call her? Not many people knew her home landline number, right? Could it be Xiao Nian? No, no, no, given Xiao Nian’s personality, she would absolutely never call her back.
Could it be Jin Xiangyu? Didn’t she say she wasn’t handling work recently?
Yin Bai frowned, somewhat displeased. She hesitated for a moment, but still got off the sofa and walked towards the landline.
As she walked towards the phone, Yin Bai was startled to realize a sliver of hope rising in her heart. For a moment there, she hoped the person on the other end was Xiao Nian.
She even started letting her imagination run wild—that Xiao Nian was calling her. Saying she didn’t love Lu Qing anymore, that she’d decided to come back, they’d reconcile, and then happily live out the rest of their lives together.
At this thought, Yin Bai’s heart trembled violently. She couldn’t help but mock herself; such an absurdly beautiful fairy tale, even a child wouldn’t believe it. Only someone as naive as her could probably cook it up in her head4.
Yin Bai reached the landline, picked up the incessantly ringing phone, and answered softly, “Wei…”5
As soon as she spoke, Jin Xiangyu’s voice, sounding greatly relieved, came through the receiver: “BOSS, you finally answered the phone.”
Hearing it was Jin Xiangyu, Yin Bai inevitably felt a little disappointed inside. Perhaps Jin Xiangyu had been trying to reach her quite urgently these past two days, so she uncharacteristically complained for a bit over the phone: “Your phone’s been off these two days, you weren’t answering the home phone, and Zhang Yu said she was on vacation and couldn’t find you either…”
Yin Bai detected a hint of worry in her urgent words. She coughed lightly, interrupting Jin Xiangyu: “Didn’t I say I was on leave, and not to contact me unless it was urgent? Why are you in such a tearing hurry? Worried I won’t be able to pay your salary this month?”
Jin Xiangyu immediately shut her mouth, switching back to her usual tone to speak with her: “How could that be? The bonuses BOSS gave me before are enough to cover my salary for the rest of my life.”
Yin Bai gave a cold “Oh.” “Alright then, I’ll have a word with your team’s finance department; no need to issue your salary starting next month.”
Jin Xiangyu immediately stopped her: “Don’t, BOSS, don’t joke with me. My whole family, young and old, relies on this salary to eat.”
Learning that Yin Bai hadn’t given up on herself or decided to just smash the cracked pot since it was already cracked6 due to heartbreak, Jin Xiangyu also breathed a sigh of relief. She coughed lightly and said to Yin Bai, “It’s just that there are a few projects recently that need you to take a look.”
“I’ve already sent the project proposals to your email. Take a look, and give me a response before Friday.”
Although Yin Bai was the Group Chairwoman7, she didn’t actually manage the company’s affairs much. Her parents had both passed away in a car accident when she was young, and after her grandmother died when she was eighteen, Yin Bai inherited a huge fortune.
At that time, Yin Bai had just started university and didn’t choose to manage the Group herself. But at the same time, she didn’t let those relatives who coveted her wealth handle company affairs either. Instead, she chose to assemble a professional management team to manage her assets for her.
Among all the professional managers, she took a particular liking to Jin Xiangyu.
Jin Xiangyu did not fail the trust placed in her. After taking over, she not only expanded the Yin Group’s business but also made a lot of money for Yin Bai.
Yin Bai was famously known in their circle as the ‘Wealth-Scattering Child’8. Everyone knew that regardless of whether a project could make money, if Yin Bai took a fancy to it, she would definitely invest.
Therefore, usually, many people who couldn’t meet Yin Bai directly would submit project proposals to Jin Xiangyu. Projects that looked profitable at first glance would typically be evaluated by Jin Xiangyu’s team. Whereas some public welfare projects9 and other seemingly unimportant projects would almost all be sent to Yin Bai’s email for her to screen.
Once Yin Bai decided on the direction for project investment, Jin Xiangyu would lead her team, working busy nights without sleep, to produce the most suitable investment plan.
Generally speaking, it was Jin Xiangyu, the wage earner, who worked arduously and conscientiously to earn money. While their boss was only responsible for being a happy Wealth-Scattering Child.
The Wealth-Scattering Child, hearing that work had come knocking, pinched the bridge of her nose with one hand and grumbled, “Got it, got it. I’ll look at them. You go get busy.”
Hearing that her tone still had some life in it, Jin Xiangyu felt relieved right away. “Then, BOSS, please do it as soon as possible. Otherwise, too many things will pile up in your inbox, and it’ll be difficult for you to handle.”
Yin Bai made an “Mm” sound, only feeling her eyes throbbing intensely. Pinching the bridge of her nose again, she added, “Um, can you make a doctor’s appointment for me first? My eyes have been hurting badly these past two days.”
She felt it was necessary to see a doctor; she even suspected she was about to cry herself blind.
Jin Xiangyu responded quickly: “Okay, BOSS.” Then she tactfully reminded her, “However, BOSS, this is something your personal assistant should be doing. I think if you need her, it would be better to have her end her vacation soon and come back.”
“Otherwise, you pay her an annual salary of hundreds of thousands, plus buying her cars and houses… can you even be considered a capitalist?”
Yin Bai gave a perfunctory “Mm.” “If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up.”
Jin Xiangyu quickly said, “There is, there is! BOSS, you’re alone right now, it’s better to remain contactable at all times.” Otherwise, with their BOSS being such a solitary figure10, she was genuinely worried she’d wake up one day to the terrible news of her boss’s death.
After all, compared to other capitalists, Yin Bai was already considered very conscientious. Not only did she let Jin Xiangyu utilize her own talents, but she also gave her a compensation package double the market rate. If possible, she was willing to work for this kind of rich person her whole life!
Yin Bai paused for a moment, then gave a soft “Mm.” She thought for a bit and said to Jin Xiangyu, “I’ll turn it on. It’s fine.”
After ending the call, Yin Bai applied the ice compress again for a while. Once her eyes felt a little better, she went upstairs into the study, opened her laptop, and started browsing recent emails.
The emails Jin Xiangyu had marked in red were all projects worth investing in next quarter. Yin Bai glanced through them briefly, did a quick data comparison, and then confidently handed them over to Jin Xiangyu to handle.
After finishing the main emails, Yin Bai then opened some of the unimportant small project proposals.
These submitted projects were quite interesting. Some were from university students, like a “Stray Animal Protection Home,” and there was also a project for “Transgender Public Toilets,” among others.
Although it was clear at a glance they were just testing the waters, seeing if they could fish for investment, Yin Bai still picked out two projects for Jin Xiangyu to investigate further. For example, the “Stray Animal Protection Home”—even though she didn’t particularly like cats and dogs, she still felt it was worth pursuing.
Besides these oddball projects, most of the other items appearing in Yin Bai’s inbox were film scripts and the like.
In the years Yin Bai had been with Xiao Nian, she had invested in quite a few film projects in the entertainment circle. Profitable and unprofitable, all told11, there were several dozen. Although she was casting a wide net12, she still earned quite a bit, which only made her ‘Wealth-Scattering Child’ title in the circle even more famous.
So, almost every day, some new directors or screenwriters would submit their work to her, talking about their film dreams, their creative journeys, their long careers of being invisible13, etc., hoping Yin Bai would show great compassion, scatter some wealth their way, and help fulfill their dreams.
Whenever Yin Bai read their tearful confessions and felt like pulling out her wallet, she would then open their script or project proposal and… just forget it.
It really wasn’t that she didn’t want to give money, but even if she was a fool with too much money14, squandering it like this wasn’t acceptable. Could these creators with film dreams please write their scripts with the same sincerity, moving quality, and brilliance as their personal statements!
After reading terrible scripts all afternoon, Yin Bai felt her eyes hurting even more.
Cupping her cheek with one hand and holding the mouse with the other, she clicked open another project out of sheer boredom.
This project proposal was actually done very well. It didn’t start with a long-winded essay about how incredibly difficult their pursuit of a film dream in the entertainment industry had been; it was just a very standard project proposal.
Main creative team list15, project plan, etc….
Yin Bai skipped right over these things and jumped to the script at the end.
As she read on, she found the story somewhat captivating.
The story had a very simple title, called 《Nu Xiansheng》16. The story was set in the Late Qing period17; the female protagonist was the di daughter18 of a Late Qing minister’s family. At that time, the tides of the New Culture Movement were crashing against decadent feudal traditional culture. This girl, who already had a childhood betrothal19 arranged long ago, went to study abroad in Japan with her mother’s support. After returning, due to the cultural influences of the time, she could only find work as a private tutor for the daughters of aristocrats…
After Yin Bai finished reading the entire plot summary and then carefully read through the script, she suddenly felt a flicker of interest. Works like this, showcasing female strength, were relatively rare not just in the domestic film and television market, but even internationally. If polished well, it could be a good piece of work.
Yin Bai pressed her lips together, scrolled back to the front of the project proposal with the mouse, and looked at the main creative team list again. She was instantly stunned.
—Director: Zuo Jingyou
—Screenwriter: Zuo Jingyou
Wait, Zuo Jingyou?
That Zuo Jingyou? The Zuo Jingyou who had stumbled upon her in many embarrassing situations? Yin Bai froze for a second. No way, no way, she thought, it couldn’t be such a coincidence, right?
She knew that Zuo Jingyou had gone to the Film Academy’s Directing Department20 this past year for further studies. So was this really Zuo Jingyou’s debut work21, written and directed by herself?
Yin Bai furrowed her brows, thinking, if it really was Zuo Jingyou, there was no need to use this method to ask her for investment, right? Don’t tell me… her husband’s family went bankrupt?
The author has something to say:
Oho, yes indeed, Boss Yin, it’s her alright!
LP: Re-translated on April 17, 2025
Footnotes
- 白鹤山庄 | Báihè Shānzhuāng | White Crane Mountain Villa
- 自作自受 | zì zuò zì shòu | Lit. “self make, self receive”; To suffer the consequences of one’s own actions.
- 大染缸 | dà rǎngāng | Lit. “big dye vat”; A metaphor for an environment (like the entertainment industry) that corrupts or stains those within it.
- 脑补 | nǎobǔ | Lit. “brain supplement”; Internet slang for imagining scenarios or filling in gaps.
- 喂 | Wèi | Standard Chinese phone greeting, similar to “Hello?”.
- 破罐破摔 | pò guàn pò shuāi | Lit. “smash a cracked pot”; An idiom meaning to give up entirely or act recklessly when a situation is already bad, figuring there’s nothing left to lose.
- 老董 | lǎo dǒng | Colloquial term for the Chairman of the Board or head of a company, often implying seniority or being the ultimate owner/boss.
- 散财童子 | sàncái tóngzǐ | Lit. “wealth-scattering boy/child”; Refers to Sudhana in Buddhist lore, often used metaphorically (sometimes playfully) for someone who spends or gives away money freely, like an easy source of funding.
- 民生建设 | mínshēng jiànshè | Lit. “people’s livelihood construction”; Refers to projects aimed at improving public welfare and living standards.
- 孤家寡人 | gū jiā guǎ rén | Lit. “lonely family, solitary person”; Originally used by emperors to refer to themselves, now means a solitary, isolated person, often implying loneliness.
- 零零总总 | línglíngzǒngzǒng | Adding up various miscellaneous items; all told, in total.
- 广撒网 | guǎng sā wǎng | Lit. “cast a wide net”; To pursue many possibilities simultaneously, often used in investment or seeking opportunities.
- 老透明 | lǎo tòumíng | Lit. “old transparent”; Slang for someone experienced but consistently overlooked or ignored in their field.
- 人傻钱多 | rén shǎ qián duō | Lit. “person stupid, money plentiful”; A common phrase describing someone rich but easily taken advantage of or prone to making foolish expenditures.
- 主创名单 | zhǔchuàng míngdān | List of the main creators (director, writer, producer, main actors, etc.) for a project.
- 《女先生》 | Nǚ Xiānshēng | Lit. “Female Mister/Teacher”; “Xiansheng” (先生) traditionally means Mister or teacher, usually male. Using it for a woman is significant, hence the title could be translated as “The Female Teacher” or “Madam Teacher”.
- 清末 | Qīng Mò | The final years of the Qing Dynasty (1644-1912).
- 嫡女 | dínǚ | The daughter born to the official primary wife in a traditional polygamous household, typically holding higher status than daughters of concubines.
- 娃娃亲 | wáwaqīn | Lit. “doll marriage”; An arranged marriage decided upon by the families when the individuals are still children.
- 电影学院导演系 | diànyǐng xuéyuàn dǎoyǎn xì | Directing Department of a Film Academy (e.g., Beijing Film Academy).
- 处女作 | chǔnǚzuò | Lit. “virgin work”; Debut work (in arts, literature, film, etc.).
0 Comments