After Being Scummed – Chapter 2
by Little PandaWait, It Really Is Zuo Jingyou!
After returning from the awards ceremony, Yin Bai canceled all her business meetings. As a capitalist with a conscience, she even gave Zhang Yu a week-long vacation.
Once Zhang Yu drove her back to her villa at White Crane Mountain Villa, the assistant happily went off on her holiday.
Yin Bai didn’t need to think twice to know that after Lu Qing won the big award at the awards ceremony and proposed to Xiao Nian, it would cause a massive uproar online.
To avoid further heartbreak, she wisely turned off her phone the moment she arrived home. Shutting down all the internet-connected devices in the house, she forced herself to block out any news regarding Xiao Nian and Lu Qing, retreating to her media room to lick her wounds in silence.
For two consecutive days, Yin Bai hid in the media room, rewatching every major film Xiao Nian had starred in since her debut nine years ago. In the end, it was only when she couldn’t stand her hunger any longer that she crawled out, took a shower, and ordered hotel delivery. Only after eating did she regain a sliver of vitality.
The late-April spring sunshine was lovely. Having finished her brunch, Yin Bai curled up on the first-floor sofa in a silk nightgown, using a towel-wrapped ice pack to soothe her eyes, occasionally hissing from the stinging cold.
For the past two days, she had been wallowing in memories in the media room. Clutching a tissue box, she wept like a complete idiot while reminiscing about her past with Xiao Nian, crying until her eyes were swollen nearly shut.
As a result, her eyes were throbbing painfully now, and even opening them was a struggle.
As she applied the cold compress, Yin Bai thought self-deprecatingly that this was probably her own doing. Who told her to be so arrogant and conceited in her youth, not knowing how to love someone? She’d assumed a single contract could bind them for life, and that Xiao Nian would always share the same interests as her.
Now look at how things turned out. The other woman had wised up, distancing herself from capitalists and the cruel, toxic melting pot of the entertainment industry to pursue her ideal life.
Serves you right. You deserve this. You deserve to cry yourself into a complete idiot.
Yin Bai lay on the sofa, indulging in another bout of self-pity. After she lay there for a while, the landline telephone in the house suddenly rang out with a loud ring, ring, ring, startling her so much that her entire body shuddered.
She removed the towel, turned her head, and squinted suspiciously toward the landline.
Who would call her? Not many people knew her landline number. Could it be Xiao Nian? No, no, no. Given Xiao Nian’s personality, she would absolutely never look back, let alone call her.
Could it be Jin Xiangyu? Hadn’t she already said she wouldn’t be handling any work lately?
Yin Bai frowned with slight displeasure. After a moment of hesitation, she got up from the sofa and walked toward the phone.
As she walked toward the phone, Yin Bai was startled to realize that a sliver of hope had bloomed in her heart. For a fleeting second, she wished the person on the other end were Xiao Nian.
She even began to let her imagination run wild. What if Xiao Nian was calling to say she didn’t love Lu Qing anymore, that she’d decided to come back, and that they’d reconcile and live out the rest of their lives in happiness?
At this thought, Yin Bai’s heart trembled violently. She couldn’t help but mock herself. Even a child wouldn’t believe such an absurd fairy tale; only someone as naive as her could dream it up.
Yin Bai reached the phone, picked up the incessantly ringing receiver, and gave a soft, gentle greeting: “Hello?”
As soon as the words left her mouth, Jin Xiangyu’s sigh of relief echoed through the receiver. “Boss, you finally answered.”
Hearing Jin Xiangyu’s voice, Yin Bai couldn’t help but feel a wave of disappointment. Maybe Jin Xiangyu really was in a rush to find her these past two days, as she uncharacteristically complained over the line: “Your phone’s been off for the past two days, and you weren’t answering your landline. Even Zhang Yu said she’s on vacation and has no way of reaching you…”
Detecting a trace of worry beneath the executive’s urgent tone, Yin Bai cleared her throat and interrupted her. “Didn’t I say I was on vacation and wasn’t to be disturbed? What’s the frantic rush? Are you worried I won’t be able to pay your salary this month?”
Jin Xiangyu shut up immediately, reverting to her usual professional tone. “How could that be? The bonuses you gave me before are enough to cover my salary for the rest of my life, Boss.”
Yin Bai let out a cold, flat “Oh.” “Alright then. I’ll tell your team’s finance department to stop paying your salary starting next month.”
Jin Xiangyu immediately protested, “Please don’t, Boss! Don’t joke with me like that. My entire family relies on this salary of mine to put food on the table.”
Relieved to hear that Yin Bai hadn’t completely abandoned herself to despair or let everything go to pieces over her heartbreak, Jin Xiangyu let out a quiet sigh of relief. She cleared her throat and said, “It’s just that there are a few projects that need your review.
“I’ve sent the project proposals to your inbox. Take a look and give me an answer by Friday.”
Although Yin Bai was the group’s chairman, she rarely interfered in company affairs. Her parents had both died in a car crash when she was young, and after her grandmother passed away when she was eighteen, Yin Bai inherited a massive fortune.
At the time, Yin Bai had just started university. She chose not to manage the conglomerate herself, but she was also unwilling to let the relatives who eyed her wealth take over the company. Instead, she chose to hire a team of professional managers to handle her assets.
Among those professional managers, she’d handpicked Jin Xiangyu.
Jin Xiangyu hadn’t let her down. After taking the reins, she not only expanded the Yin Group’s business but also made Yin Bai a massive fortune.
In the entertainment industry, Yin Bai was a well-known wealth-distributing child1. Everyone knew that as long as a project caught her eye, she would invest in it, regardless of whether it was commercially viable.
Thus, those who couldn’t meet Yin Bai in person would submit their project proposals to Jin Xiangyu. Projects with obvious profit potential were typically evaluated by Jin Xiangyu’s team, while community development projects and other seemingly minor proposals were forwarded directly to Yin Bai’s inbox for her to filter.
Once Yin Bai decided on an investment direction, Jin Xiangyu and her team would work around the clock to draft the best investment plan.
To put it simply, Jin Xiangyu was the hardworking employee diligently making money, while her boss was solely responsible for being a happy wealth-distributing child.
Hearing that there was work coming her way, the wealth-distributing child pinched the bridge of her nose with one hand and grumbled, “I know, I know. I’ll look at them. Go do your work.”
Hearing a decent amount of energy in her voice, Jin Xiangyu finally felt at ease. “Then please do it as soon as possible, Boss. Otherwise, once the inbox gets too backlogged, it’ll be a headache to sort through.”
Yin Bai hummed in agreement. Feeling a sharp, throbbing ache behind her eyelids, she massaged her temples again and said, “By the way, book a doctor’s appointment for me first. My eyes have been hurting terribly these past two days.”
She felt she really needed to see a doctor; she was even starting to suspect she might cry herself blind.
Jin Xiangyu agreed readily, “Understood, Boss.” Then, she offered a tactful reminder, “But Boss, this is something your personal assistant should be doing. I think if it’s necessary, it’d be best to have her end her vacation early and come back.”
Otherwise, paying her hundreds of thousands of yuan a year in salary, plus buying her a car and a house—could she even be considered a capitalist anymore?
Yin Bai gave a noncommittal hum. “If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up.”
Jin Xiangyu hastily said, “There is! Boss, since you’re currently staying alone, it’s best to keep your line open and reachable at all times.” After all, with their boss living in solitary isolation, she was genuinely worried she’d wake up one day to the sudden news that her boss had died.
Compared to other capitalists, Yin Bai actually had a conscience. She didn’t just give Jin Xiangyu the freedom to fully utilize her talents; she also paid her double the market rate. If possible, Jin Xiangyu would gladly work for a wealthy boss like this for the rest of her life!
Yin Bai paused, then let out a soft hum of agreement. Thinking about it, she told Jin Xiangyu, “I’ll keep it on. Don’t worry.”
After hanging up, Yin Bai applied the cold compress for a while longer. Once her eyes felt a bit better, she went upstairs to her study, opened her laptop, and began browsing her recent emails.
The emails flagged in red by Jin Xiangyu were all projects worth investing in for the next quarter. Yin Bai glanced over them briefly, compared the data, and left them to Jin Xiangyu to handle.
After looking over the main emails, Yin Bai finally opened the minor, miscellaneous proposals.
These submitted projects were actually quite intriguing. Some were written by university students, such as a “Stray Animal Sanctuary,” while others proposed things like “Transgender Public Restrooms.”
Although it was obvious at a glance that these were just testing the waters to see if they could land some funding, Yin Bai still picked out two of them to have Jin Xiangyu follow up on. For instance, with the “Stray Animal Sanctuary”—even though she wasn’t particularly fond of cats or dogs, she still felt it was worth doing.
Aside from these odd proposals, most of the submissions in her inbox were film scripts.
During her years with Xiao Nian, Yin Bai had invested in quite a few film projects. Profitable or not, they added up to dozens of movies. Though she’d cast a wide net, she still made a decent amount of money, which only served to make her reputation as a wealth-distributing child in the industry echo even louder.
Consequently, almost every single day, rookie directors and screenwriters would send submissions to her inbox, pouring their hearts out about their cinematic dreams, their creative journeys, or their long, obscure struggles, hoping Yin Bai would show some mercy and throw some money their way to help fulfill their dreams.
Yet, every time Yin Bai read their tear-soaked confessionals and felt ready to open her wallet, she would open their actual scripts or project proposals… only to immediately change her mind.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to give them money. But even if she had more money than sense, she couldn’t squander her inheritance like that. She sincerely wished these aspiring filmmakers would put as much sincerity, emotion, and brilliance into their actual scripts as they did into their tearful confessionals!
After spending the afternoon reading terrible scripts, Yin Bai felt the pain in her eyes growing worse.
Propping her cheek in one hand and holding the mouse in the other, she clicked open another project out of sheer boredom.
This project proposal, however, was remarkably well-made. It lacked the usual long-winded rants about how hard it was to chase a cinematic dream, presenting instead a very standard, professional layout.
The cast and crew list, project planning, and so forth…
Yin Bai skipped these introductory pages and jumped straight to the script at the back.
As she read, she found herself slowly drawn into the story.
The story bore a very simple title: 《The Female Teacher》. Set during the late Qing dynasty, the narrative revolved around the daughter of a high-ranking minister. At a time when the tide of the New Culture Movement clashed violently with decaying feudal traditions, this young woman—who had long been betrothed in an arranged marriage—managed to study in Japan with her mother’s support. Upon her return, restricted by the social climate of the era, she could only find work as a private tutor for the daughters of the nobility…
After reading the synopsis and carefully scanning through the script, Yin Bai suddenly felt a spark of interest. Works that highlighted female empowerment were relatively rare, not just in the domestic market, but even internationally. If polished properly, this could turn out to be an exceptional piece of work.
Yin Bai pursed her lips, scrolled back to the front of the proposal, and glanced at the crew list. She instantly froze.
—Director: Zuo Jingyou
—Screenwriter: Zuo Jingyou
Wait, Zuo Jingyou?
That Zuo Jingyou? The very same Zuo Jingyou who’d repeatedly caught her in her most embarrassing moments? Yin Bai was stunned. She thought to herself, No way, right? It couldn’t possibly be such a coincidence.
She knew Zuo Jingyou had gone to the directing department of the film academy to study this past year. So, was this truly her debut project as both writer and director?
Yin Bai knitted her brows. If it really was Zuo Jingyou, there was no reason for her to seek investment through this channel. Could it be… her husband’s family had gone bankrupt?
The author has something to say:
Oho, yes, Boss Yin, it’s indeed her!
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