After Being Scummed – Chapter 8
by Little PandaAaaaaaaaah! Don’t Call Me Fairy Sister!
The moment Zuo Jingyou walked in, Tongtong, sitting up in bed, turned all her attention to her.
Tongtong reached her arms out toward Zuo Jingyou, her voice soft and wheedling: “Mama, you’re back! I want Mama hugs!”
Zuo Jingyou hurried to the bedside and gathered her daughter into her arms, her heart aching. Tears glimmered in her eyes as she asked, infinitely gentle: “Tongtong, does it still hurt?”
Tongtong nestled against her and looked up, smiling as she shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. The doctor lady gave me a shot and bandaged me up. Don’t worry, Mama.”
Having soothed Zuo Jingyou, Tongtong lowered her eyes, her voice tinged with guilt. “I’m sorry, Mama. It’s because I was playing around that I fell. I’ll never do it again.”
Tongtong really was a wonderfully well-behaved child—comforting her mother one moment, apologizing the next. How could Zuo Jingyou possibly scold her? She held Tongtong close, leaned down, and pressed a gentle kiss to the uninjured part of her forehead. “I’m just glad you’re all right,” she murmured. “Mama is happy that you know what’s dangerous. I’m not angry with you.”
Zuo Jingyou reached out and ruffled the child’s hair, coaxing her softly, asking where else it hurt. Tongtong showed her every scrape and bandage, wheedling for puffs of air on each one. After Zuo Jingyou gently blew on them, Tongtong beamed. “Ah! Mama cast a happy spell on me! My boo-boos will heal in no time!”
The child’s bright laughter eased the knot in Zuo Jingyou’s chest. She stroked the soft hair at the back of Tongtong’s head and smiled tenderly. “Mm. Tongtong will be better in no time.”
Seeing that Zuo Jingyou had settled the child, Yang Yi, standing to one side, finally spoke up with a grin. “All right, good girl, Tongtong. Auntie Yang Yi brought you a present too—one that’ll make the pain fly away!”
“Ta-daaa!”
Yang Yi reached behind her back and produced a magic fairy Barbie doll, holding it out to Tongtong.
Tongtong took the present, her eyes wide with delight. “Wow! A magic fairy! She even has a magic wand!” Wenwen came rushing over, eyeing the gift with naked envy. “Wow, it’s so big! I want one too! I want one too!”
Yang Yi ruffled Wenwen’s dark hair, her face full of warmth. “I got one for Wenwen too. It’s in the car—you’ll see it when we head back.”
Wenwen threw her hands up and cheered, then egged Tongtong on to unwrap it.
With both children’s attention captured by the gifts, Zuo Jingyou gave Tongtong a tender glance, then looked up at Yin Bai. “Chairman Yin…”
Yin Bai stood at the foot of the bed, leaning on her cane, her gaze drifting restlessly around the room. Her mind was entirely occupied with how to make a graceful, not-too-awkward exit. This family was so warm and complete—she felt utterly superfluous.
So when Zuo Jingyou suddenly called out to her, it startled her badly enough that she nearly dropped her cane.
Yin Bai snapped back to attention, gripping her cane. She couldn’t help recalling how she’d been so full of grand, self-important theatrics—caught up in chuunibyou1 delusions—right in front of Zuo Jingyou. The memory was excruciating. But she’d always kept up appearances in public. No matter how agonizing the moment, she could slap on a mask of cold indifference and carry on as though nothing had happened.
She pressed her lips together and fixed her gaze on Zuo Jingyou, mustering her coldest tone. “Did you need something, Miss Zuo?”
Though they hadn’t interacted much, Zuo Jingyou could sense that Yin Bai was someone who cared deeply about her image. She offered a small smile, making no mention of what she’d just witnessed, and simply thanked her with genuine sincerity. “Aunt Xu told me you were the one who drove Tongtong here today. Thank you.”
Zuo Jingyou reached up to stroke her daughter’s hair, her eyes curving warmly as she looked at Yin Bai. “I had no idea you lived next door to my mother. In any case—thank you, for today.”
Yin Bai maintained her mask of indifference. “It was nothing. No need to thank me. We’re neighbors—it was the least I could do.”
She paused, glancing at Tongtong sitting up in the hospital bed. Biting her lower lip, she gathered her courage and said, “Since you’re here, Tongtong doesn’t need me to stay. I have other matters to attend to. I’ll be going.”
With that, Yin Bai leaned on her cane and made for the door as fast as her legs could carry her.
Zuo Jingyou called after her on instinct. “Wait—Chairman Yin… the medical bills you covered…”
Yin Bai didn’t even turn around. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t need to pay me back.”
Tongtong, hearing she was leaving, looked up at Yin Bai’s retreating back, puzzled. “Fairy Sister, are you going home?”
The moment Yin Bai heard “Fairy Sister,” her entire body seized up. That’s fine when it’s just us kids—but not in front of adults!
Yin Bai’s stride faltered. She turned back with her cane, forcing a smile. “Mm. I’m going home. Your mama’s here now—have fun with her.”
Tongtong gave a small “oh” and looked up at her, pitifully. “Can we still come play with you later?”
“Of course.” Yin Bai’s smile softened, and she meant it. “Once you’re better, you can come find me in the yard.”
Wenwen, draped over the edge of the bed, blurted out, “And then will you tell us stories?”
Yin Bai nodded. “Mm, I will—as long as you don’t make too much noise.”
Saying that many words in one go to people she barely knew was, for Yin Bai, genuinely difficult. She paused, trying to look a little less forbidding. “All right. I’m heading home. Goodbye.”
After her farewells, Yin Bai all but scrambled for the exit.
Tongtong and Wenwen watched her go, then raised their voices in perfect unison. “Goodbye, Fairy Sister!”
Yin Bai stumbled mid-step and nearly walked straight into the doorframe on her way out.
Aaaah! Don’t call me Fairy Sister in front of adults! I’m dying, I’m dying! How am I supposed to pass as a mature adult after that?!
Yin Bai gripped her cane and walked fast—tap, tap, tap—briskly leaving the ward behind.
Zuo Jingyou sat on the edge of the bed, staring after the direction she’d gone, slightly taken aback. This Chairman Yin… didn’t seem very used to dealing with people. She’d always assumed Yin Bai was simply cold and unapproachable, but seeing her now…
She got along wonderfully with children, but couldn’t quite handle adults. It felt a bit…
“Hey… Jingyou-jie, is it just me, or does Boss Yin seem kind of socially anxious?” Yang Yi glanced toward where Yin Bai had vanished, perfectly voicing what Zuo Jingyou had been thinking.
Yang Yi turned to her boss, a hint of gossip in her tone. “I’ve run into her a few times at industry events. Everyone says she’s notoriously cold and taciturn, but from what I just saw… she had plenty to say, didn’t she?”
Yang Yi’s left hand shot up as she exclaimed with infectious enthusiasm, “Believe in the power of love! Become a magic fairy!”
After her little performance, Yang Yi burst out laughing. “How can anyone be that adorable?” She sounded like a child herself, brimming with glee.
Zuo Jingyou laughed despite herself, shaking her head at her irrepressibly theatrical assistant. “All right. Didn’t I tell you not to gossip about people?”
“Find Chairman Yin’s assistant’s contact information and ask about the medical bills. We need to pay her back.”
Yang Yi flashed an OK sign, turned on her heel, and left the room to track down Yin Bai’s assistant.
Tongtong had taken a bad fall from the top of the wall. After Yang Yi left, Zuo Jingyou hesitated for a long while before finally taking her phone into the bathroom, unblocking He Zhiwen, and calling him.
The call barely connected before He Zhiwen picked up—almost instantly. His voice came through the line, heavy with exhaustion. “Thank God. Jingyou, you’re finally willing to talk to me.”
He didn’t wait for her to speak. The words tumbled out of him in a breathless rush: “Are you ready to work with me now? The rumors are getting worse by the day—they’re dragging all three of us down, you, me, and Lin Xiao. If you’d just come out and make a statement with me…”
Zuo Jingyou listened to his voice on the line, her mind momentarily adrift. Just half a year ago, they’d been the couple everyone envied—a fairy-tale pair. But just as He Zhiwen had once loved her, he had, in the blink of an eye, fallen in love with a man. He called that man his “muse,” and loved him with the same burning intensity.
This man was like fire—candid and relentless in his passion for art, for cinema, for love. Once, Zuo Jingyou had been convinced that this fire would be the warmth that wrapped around her forever.
She never imagined he would turn and walk away so decisively—leaving her burned, standing alone in the same spot, seared to ash and bone.
Zuo Jingyou drew a deep breath, forcing down the emotions rising in her chest. She leaned against the sink and spoke low. “I don’t want to discuss that right now…”
She paused, swallowed the tightness in her throat, then slowly exhaled. When she spoke again, her voice was steady. “Zhiwen… Tongtong… she’s been hurt. If you can, come see her.”
He Zhiwen’s alarm was immediate. “Tongtong’s hurt! How did she get hurt? Where is she injured? Where are you? I’m flying back right now!”
Zuo Jingyou paused before saying, “I’ll have my assistant send you the address. For now, don’t bring up our situation in front of the child. Just come back and comfort Tongtong. That’s all.”
“Everything else, we can discuss later.”
Zuo Jingyou hung up without ceremony and blocked He Zhiwen again.
Done. She leaned against the sink, staring at He Zhiwen’s name on her phone. Her mind was a mess of half-formed thoughts.
Ever since she’d discovered what happened, every single time she saw his name, she couldn’t stop asking herself: Why?
Why would the man who’d signed a marriage contract with her, who’d promised to love her for the rest of their lives, fall for someone else? How did it even start? What did he see in him? Where did she fall short compared to him? Had she done something wrong?
Question after question rose in her mind, leaving her frantic, restless, and bone-deep weary.
But everything would pass eventually… No matter how wretched the process, it would all pass in the end.
Zuo Jingyou raised a hand and pressed it flat against her forehead, jolting herself back to momentary clarity. Stop. It is what it is. More thinking won’t change anything.
There was nothing for it but to face things head-on.
Zuo Jingyou drew a deep breath, turned on the tap, and splashed her reddened eyes with cool water. It took a long moment before she could walk back out.
Seeing her daughter playing contentedly on the bed, Zuo Jingyou’s face softened into a warm smile. “Tongtong… Mama has good news!”
Tongtong looked up at her, a wide grin plastered across her face. “What good news, Mama?”
Zuo Jingyou smiled. “Your papa said he’s coming back to see you soon!”
Tongtong’s eyes lit up at the news. “Really? Really? I get to see Papa?”
“Mm. You’ll see him very soon.”
But soon, too, she wouldn’t be seeing him very often anymore.
The author has something to say:
Tongtong: Adults really are complicated creatures.
Leave me comments! The first fifty readers to leave a comment will receive a red packet2. Thanks for your support, mwah!
The next chapter should be an iconic scene, I think!
Footnotes
- A Japanese slang term for 'eighth-grader syndrome,' adopted into Chinese internet culture to describe dramatic, self-important adolescent fantasies of having special powers or a grand destiny.
- A traditional Chinese monetary gift given in red envelopes, here referring to virtual red packets that webnovel authors distribute to readers as rewards on serial-fiction platforms.
i can smell the beginning of a new love !
i can smell the beginning of a new love !