What's Wrong with Spoiling You? [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 44

Completely unaware of the danger, Tan Yun bought over a dozen types of lingerie in one go at Cheng Xiaoai’s suggestion. Of course, she couldn’t possibly bring these back to the hospital. She said, “Xiaoai, I want to give my beauty a surprise. Since I just got here, why don’t you keep these for me? I’ll pick them up when we go back.”

 

Cheng Xiaoai thought it over—keeping them at her place would indeed be safer. “Fine. Honestly, what kind of expression do you think your beauty will have when she finds out you bought these things?”

 

“This?” Tan Yun imagined it in her mind—probably excitement!

 

The two took a taxi back to the hospital. When they pushed open the ward door, they saw Yun Bo sitting by the window reading a book, her figure swallowed by the darkness.

 

Cheng Xiaoai immediately sensed something was off. Who would sit by the window reading in the middle of the night?

 

But Tan Yun, with her clueless melon brain, couldn’t figure it out. She walked right up and explained, “The hospital was too stuffy, so we went out for a bit. It wasn’t long, just a little while.”

 

Her guilty conscience made her keep emphasizing “just a little while.”

 

Yun Bo closed the book in her hands and placed it on her lap. “Hmm,” she said. “Just a little while, huh? I only got back a little while ago too.”

 

Great. She’s learned to lie. Just great.

 

Cheng Xiaoai wasn’t as foolish. She quickly realized something was wrong. “Well, you two chat. I’ll head back to the hotel to pack up my things.”

 

Tan Yun, nervous from lying, grabbed her hand. “Xiaoai… um… I…”

 

Cheng Xiaoai shook her head. No one could be this dumb. She gave Tan Yun a sympathetic look. “You should stay at the hospital tonight—”

 

Before she could finish, the person by the window cut in. “Since your stomach seems better, let’s just check out.”

 

Tan Yun looked at the neatly folded blankets on the bed and felt another wave of emotion. Sniffling, she thought, “My beauty must be worried I’m not used to the hospital bed. So gentle… I love her so much…”

 

“Tan Yun…” Cheng Xiaoai’s eye twitched. She really didn’t know what to say. At this point, Tan Yun still hadn’t caught on.

 

Still in a daze, Tan Yun blinked her peach-blossom eyes. “You go ahead. We’ll head back soon.”

 

Yun Bo stood up, holding the book in her hand, and asked casually, “Did you forget to bring something back?”

 

“No?” Tan Yun had no idea what she meant, but Cheng Xiaoai, who had reached the door, stumbled and nearly fell. She turned back with an awkward smile. “It’s nothing, nothing.”

 

“Really nothing?” Yun Bo tilted her head and asked again, giving her a chance to correct herself.

 

Tan Yun clung to a sliver of hope. “No, we just went for a walk. Didn’t buy anything.”

 

“Is that so?” Yun Bo’s laughter carried a chilling breeze, making Tan Yun shiver from the other side of the bed.

 

Did my beauty find out?

 

Hesitantly, Tan Yun tested the waters. “Yun Bo, when did you get back today?”

 

Yun Bo tidied up the things on the table, repeating her earlier words. “Just a little while.”

 

Tan Yun sensed the danger in her tone and hurried to explain, “We really—”

 

“Let’s go back!” Yun Bo was angry, but there wasn’t much she could do about it, especially since Tan Yun wasn’t feeling well. Forcing a slight smile, she suppressed her irritation and asked, “Xiao Yun, have you heard the phrase ‘settling accounts after autumn’?”

 

“Yes, I have!” Tan Yun ruffled her hair and quickly admitted her mistake. “I was wrong.”

 

Yun Bo gave a satisfied hum. “What exactly were you wrong about?”

 

“I shouldn’t have gone out to play when I had a stomachache.” She spoke earnestly, lowering her head in a show of sincerity.

 

However, Yun Bo’s expression instantly turned cold. She let out another faint “Hmm,” her fingers curling one by one—clearly seething with anger.

 

Tan Yun racked her brain but couldn’t figure out why Yun Bo was so upset. Surely she hadn’t found out about the lingerie shopping spree?

 

Did the beauty not like those things?

 

But according to popular opinion, hardly anyone would dislike something like that.

 

“Alright, let’s go.” Yun Bo walked over, took her hand, and led her out of the hospital.

 

When they reached her black Bentley, Yun Bo pointed at the emblem and asked, “What kind of car is this?”

 

A sudden chill filled the air. Tan Yun rubbed her arms—was this the same car parked outside the “Uniform Temptation” store earlier?

 

She scrutinized it from every angle, unsure whether it matched or not, before hesitantly answering, “Probably a Volkswagen…”

 

“Volkswagen?” Yun Bo felt her blood pressure spike. She rephrased the question, “Which car emblems do you recognize?”

 

Whichever one you know, I’ll switch to that.

 

Tan Yun picked at her fingers, relieved.

 

At least she wasn’t being questioned about this afternoon.

 

Of course, she was too embarrassed to admit the brands she actually recognized.

 

As she hesitated, Yun Bo pressed, “If you don’t know, look it up online and memorize it.”

 

“I know the logos for Little Yellow Bike and Little White Bike…”

 

“Wait.” Yun Bo pulled out her phone to search for these so-called “car brands.” The moment the Baidu page loaded, her anger evaporated—she was utterly defeated.

 

“You remember shared bike logos pretty well,” Yun Bo remarked, a hint of jealousy in her voice. A Bentley, outshone by a few rental bicycles.

 

For a moment, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

 

Tan Yun promptly provided an explanation, “My bike kept breaking, so I had to rent them often…”

 

“Got it.” Yun Bo quickly grasped the issue—apparently, she hadn’t driven Tan Yun to work often enough for her to recognize the car.

 

She opened the car door, swallowing her frustration. “From now on, unless I’m away on business, I’ll drive you to work every morning.”

 

“Won’t that be too much trouble?” Tan Yun was thrilled but tried not to show it.

 

“No.” Yun Bo fastened her seatbelt, eyes fixed ahead. “What color’s your bra today?”

 

“Huh?” Tan Yun couldn’t believe her ears—the question was too abrupt.

 

Yun Bo repeated calmly while steering, “What color is the bra you’re wearing today?”

 

Tan Yun’s face flushed. Her mind raced before she answered, “Pink.”

 

Only then did Yun Bo relax—it was still the one she’d bought.

 

……

 

……

 

Since she was on her period these past few days, Yun Bo hadn’t teased her much.

 

After bathing together, the two lay side by side on the large bed. Yun Bo embraced her from behind, fingers still holding a piece of fruit.

 

She tugged at it for a while, but a hint of jealousy lingered in her heart. She asked, “Darling, who’s more important to you—me or Cheng Xiaoai?”

 

“Both are important,” Tan Yun buried her face in the blankets. “Why do you ask?”

 

“Both, huh?” Yun Bo couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. The question was indeed difficult to answer, and this response was within her expectations.

 

“Alright, it’s late. We should sleep.” She reached out to turn off the wall lamp, plunging the room into darkness, leaving only the sound of their intertwined breaths.

 

This answer clearly hadn’t satisfied her. Tan Yun gathered her thoughts and said, “I don’t know how to explain this properly. Xiaoai and I grew up together—our bond is like that of sisters.”

 

“I know.” That’s exactly why I’m jealous.

 

She hated her own cowardice. Though her heart was brimming with affection, her lips remained sealed.

 

Before the words “I like you too” could escape, she was met with a cold, unresponsive body.

 

“Yun Bo, you hold a different kind of importance in my heart…” Tan Yun pressed down on the hand that held the fruit. “I like…”

 

Yun Bo heard the first part, but the latter half was swallowed by the air.

 

As if God was playing a cruel joke, her ears went deaf, hearing nothing.

 

She imagined the little fox must be whispering sweet nothings.

 

Word by word, spoken with such tenderness.

 

“The moment I first saw you, I thought—what a beauty. I liked you so much. But all I could do was wake up a little earlier each day.”

 

Yun Bo caught only fragments, yet pieced them together into a coherent confession.

 

“Because I could never seem to find you.”

 

Tan Yun’s voice was neither too loud nor too soft, just enough for the two of them to hear clearly.

 

She carefully reminisced about those fleeting moments, guiding them both back to that time of small, shared sweetness.

 

“What I saw most were your hands—they always drew me in. And you, as if on purpose, only ever let me catch glimpses.” Tan Yun recalled the embarrassingly sentimental self-introduction letter she’d written. “But you… you never replied to my letters.”

 

“But you… you never replied.”

 

“But…”

 

“Yun Bo, Yun Bo, Yun Bo…”

 

“Yun Bo, Yun Bo, why won’t you reply to my letters?”

 

“Even if you don’t reply, I’ll keep writing to you every day.”

 

She still looked as she had at seventeen or eighteen, holding a round fan in her hand.

 

When it rained, she stood in the rain.

 

When it snowed, she stood in the snow.

 

A drawn-out, stifled cry of “Madame” escaped. The performer on stage bowed deeply, tilting their head to hide behind a sleeve—half concealed, half revealed.

 

After decades of performing, this was the first time they’d made a mistake.

 

The audience murmured—the performer must be getting old.

 

“Husband” had slipped out as “Madame.”

 

The performer bowed again, repeating, “Madame.”

 

Bitter and desolate.

 

Clutching the listener’s hand against their chest, the performer let their pounding heartbeat speak.

 

“Ah, her letters are written here.”