After Amnesia, I Learn I'm a Scumbag Top?! - Chapter 10
Chapter 10
By the time Pei Ji finished talking with Qiao He, the sun had already set in the west. He stood before his own doorstep for a long time, unable to bring himself to go inside.
Qiao He’s words echoed in his mind again and again:
“Were you tricked into marrying someone?”
“Is he threatening you?”
“What kind of deal did he make with you?”
Just as Qiao He was about to cross the street, he suddenly turned back, rushed over, and urgently warned him, “Brother, you seemed a bit off earlier. Are you really familiar with your partner?”
Pei Ji neither nodded nor shook his head, appearing distracted.
Qiao He pulled him aside, leaned in close, and whispered worriedly, “You didn’t elope, did you?”
Pei Ji pressed his lips together. His relationship with Chu Tinghan was far too complicated to explain quickly, so he opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Qiao He froze, his mind racing with wild assumptions. “Sigh… Brother, I don’t blame you. After all, he’s rich and powerful—we can’t afford to offend him.”
Pei Ji’s expression froze, and he once again found Qiao He unreliable.
What kind of nonsense is this? Where did Qiao He’s mind wander off to?
Judging by Qiao He’s tone, he seemed to believe Pei Ji was forced to submit to someone powerful, living under his thumb.
Things aren’t nearly that stifling for me right now.
Objectively speaking, Chu Tinghan had treated him quite well.
Pei Ji slapped away the arm Chu Tinghan was about to drape over his shoulder, frowning. “I wasn’t tricked. Stop overthinking things.”
“That’s exactly what my cousin said back then,” Qiao He retorted, as if he’d caught a textbook case. “She was blinded by that scumbag’s sweet talk, convinced she’d marry him for life. But in the end, he left her battered and broken.”
Pei Ji had no retort, forced to listen to Qiao He’s endless lecturing.
“Bro, you’ve got zero relationship experience. Take it from someone who’s been there—always keep your guard up. Don’t believe everything they say. You can’t end up like my cousin. Otherwise, you’ll regret it when it’s too late…”
As his thoughts snapped back to reality, Pei Ji suddenly felt overwhelmed with unease.
He stood at the door, only a wall separating him from Chu Tinghan, yet his legs felt like they were cast in lead, unable to move an inch.
Could such a rare occurrence as a marriage scam really be happening to him?
Why would Chu Tinghan deceive him?
Chu Tinghan had neither wealth nor influence, and was a washed-up former idol who’d left the industry two years ago. Marrying him offered no benefits—in fact, he was more of a liability.
Why would someone like him go to such elaborate lengths just to trick him into marriage?
After wavering for so long, Pei Ji’s resolve suddenly hardened. He still couldn’t believe Chu Tinghan would deceive him.
“Little Pei, why aren’t you coming in? What are you standing at the door for?”
The voice from behind startled Pei Ji, snapping him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Aunt Zhang, back from grocery shopping, waving at him.
Pei Ji’s lips curved into a polite smile. “I was just about to go in. Let me help you with those groceries—they look heavy.”
Aunt Zhang waved him off. “No need, no need. Hurry inside. Director Chu has been waiting for you for ages.”
Pei Ji’s eyes widened in surprise. “He’s been waiting for me for ages?”
Aunt Zhang walked closer, gesturing with the groceries in her hands. “Yes, Director Chu came home early today and specifically instructed me to buy your favorite dishes.”
Pei Ji found it odd that Chu Tinghan, usually swamped with work, had time to come home early.
He nodded in acknowledgment and was about to open the door when it swung open on its own.
A cold, aloof man stood inside, his piercing gaze fixed intently on Pei Ji. “What’s all this chatting at the door? Why aren’t you coming in?”
Seeing that handsome face, Qiao He’s words involuntarily resurfaced in Pei Ji’s mind:
Marrying him for deception?
That possibility seemed utterly foreign to Pei Ji’s relationship with Chu Tinghan—at least, he couldn’t fathom any logical reason for it.
With Chu Tinghan’s impeccable credentials, he could easily marry anyone he wanted. Why would he cling to this long-withered tree that was Pei Ji?
Despite his efforts, Pei Ji couldn’t completely let his guard down. After changing his shoes, he hesitated to enter, instead standing still and covertly observing Chu Tinghan from the corner of his eye.
Sensing his gaze, Chu Tinghan raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on his lips. He met Pei Ji’s slightly probing stare without flinching, as if everything were entirely under his control.
At that moment, Pei Ji suddenly felt he couldn’t afford to lower his guard too much, or he’d lose any chance of regaining the upper hand in this situation.
Seeing Pei Ji lingering at the doorway, Chu Tinghan asked casually, “What’s on your mind? Are you holding back because you have something to ask me?”
Pei Ji finally met his gaze, his voice low and resolute: “What are the conditions for seeing the child?”
Chu Tinghan froze, taken aback by this sudden return to the topic of the child. “I told you before: you need to make something of yourself.”
Pei Ji pressed further, “What’s the standard?”
Chu Tinghan frowned slightly, as if he didn’t understand the question.
When no answer came, Pei Ji’s gaze turned cold, but he persisted, his patience wearing thin. “Exactly what level of achievement qualifies as ‘making something of yourself’ in your eyes?”
The smile on Chu Tinghan’s face stiffened for a moment. Instead of answering, he casually changed the subject, asking, “Where did you go today? Did you meet anyone?”
Why won’t he answer?
Why does Chu Tinghan always evade or deflect any mention of the child?
Is he truly hiding something from me?
Pei Ji replied flatly, “I met an old friend.”
An old friend? Could Pei Ji’s sudden mention of the child again today mean he learned something from this friend?
At this thought, a flicker of panic crossed Chu Tinghan’s face, but he maintained his calm, composed smile. “What friend?”
Hearing him evade the topic again, Pei Ji felt an inexplicable surge of frustration. Even his usually mild temper frayed under Chu Tinghan’s persistent refusal to answer.
He could accept Chu Tinghan imposing conditions, but he couldn’t tolerate his vague responses and constant evasiveness.
What does “make something of yourself” even mean? What are the criteria? Why won’t he explain it clearly?
If Chu Tinghan gets to set the standard, does that mean if he never acknowledges Pei Ji or agrees to let him see the child, Pei Ji will never be allowed to see his own child in this lifetime?
Even if he had once been an irresponsible gold-digging loser, he was still the child’s other father and had custody rights. What right did Chu Tinghan have to keep him away?
As Pei Ji pondered this, his expression grew increasingly dark and chillingly cold.
Chu Tinghan had never seen Pei Ji wear such a cold and disgusted expression. He knew very well that Pei Ji was someone who appeared warm on the outside but was icy within. On the surface, he seemed gentle-natured, good-tempered, and easy to get along with, always smiling and pleasant. But these were merely outward appearances crafted by his excellent upbringing; his true self only showed leniency and indulgence to those closest to him.
Chu Tinghan realized he clearly didn’t belong to that inner circle. He could tell Pei Ji was already angry with him.
Chu Tinghan felt deeply uneasy, terrified that Pei Ji might storm out and never return.
In that moment, he suddenly realized he shouldn’t have taken advantage of Pei Ji’s vulnerable state, using a deception to satisfy his selfish desires. Though he seemed to be in control of the situation, he was equally trapped within his own carefully constructed game, unable to advance or retreat.
After a long silence, Chu Tinghan finally relented. “Do you really want to see the child that badly?”
Pei Ji remained silent, only glaring at him with his sharp, black eyes.
The answer was self-evident.
After a tense standoff, someone finally broke the silence.
“Fine…” Chu Tinghan said, his voice trembling uncontrollably as if all the strength had drained from his body. “I agree to let you see the child.”
Pei Ji’s expression softened slightly, but his tone remained cold: “Conditions? State them clearly.”
Chu Tinghan’s words caught in his throat, as if he dared not negotiate with Pei Ji any longer.
After a tense pause, Chu Tinghan finally regained his voice, forcing a stiff smile to mask his inner turmoil. “No conditions.”
Pei Ji raised an eyebrow at the unexpected answer.
Chu Tinghan took a half-step forward, lowering his gaze in a gesture of surrender. “But you need to give me time—and time for the child too. Please?”
This was the first time Pei Ji had ever seen a crack in Chu Tinghan’s usually impassive facade, and the first time he’d witnessed the aloof Director Chu bowing his head for anyone.
Pei Ji had never intended to provoke a confrontation. His relentless pressure had only been to confirm his suspicions. Now that he had achieved his goal, there was no need to push Chu Tinghan further.
Since Chu Tinghan had agreed to let him see the child, Pei Ji temporarily dismissed the absurd notion that had taken root in his mind.
He preferred to believe Chu Tinghan over Qiao He’s wild conjectures. There was no logical reason for this; it was simply an instinctive choice, a subconscious conviction that Chu Tinghan couldn’t possibly deceive him.
Pei Ji’s expression softened as he approached Chu Tinghan and took his hand, hoping to ease the tension. But the touch he felt was ice-cold; Chu Tinghan’s slender, elegant hand felt as though it had been immersed in freezing water, utterly devoid of warmth.
Pei Ji froze for a moment, momentarily at a loss.
He hadn’t intended things to escalate to this point. He couldn’t understand why a single remark from him had sent Chu Tinghan’s entire body into a chilling freeze.
Was my tone really that frightening?
Pei Ji asked, his voice laced with concern, “…Why is your hand so cold?”
As the warmth of Pei Ji’s palm grew more distinct against his skin, Chu Tinghan sluggishly returned to his senses, feeling Pei Ji’s body heat transfer to him. He lowered his gaze but remained silent. When he saw Pei Ji holding his hand, his first instinct was to grip back—but the next moment, Pei Ji released his hand.
Chu Tinghan turned to reclaim the connection, but Pei Ji moved too quickly, leaving him grasping only at air.
A sudden snapping sound echoed in his mind, and his heart lurched into frantic palpitations. His first instinct was to stop Pei Ji—he couldn’t let him leave.
But before Chu Tinghan could chase after him, Pei Ji unexpectedly returned with a cup of hot water, which he carefully handed to him. After Chu Tinghan took the cup, Pei Ji wrapped his own large, well-defined hand around Chu Tinghan’s, his voice gentle: “Feeling better now? Still cold?”
Chu Tinghan nodded slowly, a beat late. “Much better.”
Only then did Pei Ji relax, leading him to the sofa. “I… I was a bit frazzled today,” he said awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
Chu Tinghan held the cup without letting go, his gaze distant. “I know.”
Pei Ji spotted an apple on the table and instinctively reached for it to peel for Chu Tinghan. As his eyes swept across the table, he suddenly noticed an unfinished cup of tea near the edge.
“Did we have a guest over?” he asked casually.
Chu Tinghan replied almost instantly, “No.”
The too-swift denial felt like a cover-up.
Pei Ji paused mid-peel, that strange feeling resurfacing.
Was Chu Tinghan really hiding something from him?
Lost in thought, Pei Ji absently continued peeling, wondering if he should press the matter further.
Ding-dong! The doorbell rang suddenly, followed by frantic knocking.
Pei Ji vaguely heard someone outside the door calling out that they had dropped something at his house and wanted to retrieve it.
Why lie about having a guest when one is clearly here?
Why keep this from me?
The perfect, slender apple peel Pei Ji was slicing snapped midway with a snap.
He set the apple down, making to open the door.
“Don’t bother, I’ll get it,” Chu Tinghan said, rising before him and striding to the door.
Pei Ji watched as Chu Tinghan blocked the doorway, opening it only a sliver—just enough to fit half a person through—and engaged in a hushed conversation with the person outside.
Chu Tinghan’s behavior was too unnatural. Pei Ji quietly approached, determined to uncover the truth.
Why hide this person’s visit?
Could this person know some secret between us—a secret we can’t reveal?
Taking another step forward, Pei Ji caught a flash of white dart through the narrow crack.
For some reason, a sharp pain suddenly stabbed through his head, as if something was trying to break through the barriers of his memory.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed stray white hairs scattered on the carpet, identical to the ones he’d seen during dinner that day.
Back then, Chu Tinghan had dismissed them as Aunt Zhang’s gray hairs, and Pei Ji hadn’t given it a second thought.
But now he realized Chu Tinghan had either been mistaken—or had deliberately lied to him.
Pei Ji bent down, picked up a white hair, and examined it closely.
Compared to human hair, it felt more like the long fur shed by some small animal…